"Will, honey, please remember to take the garbage out on Friday mornings, okay? I don't want my house to turn into a dump while we're away."

His mother's hands were on her slight hips, blue eyes trained on his face, the 2 in her left pupil shining silver-bright. Whip-smart and small in stature, with a heart the size of the moon, she meant business when it came to avoiding a mess.

"The garbage schedule's on the fridge, you sent me a text about it and put it on the bulletin board in my room. I'm pretty sure I've got this." He smirked at her, then turned back to playing with his phone.

"I'm going to miss your sarcastic face." Her expression softened. "If my manuscript weren't almost due, I wouldn't be away so long. I can't believe we only have two summers until you're off to college; where has the time gone?"

She sighed and wrapped her arms around her son's shoulders, squeezing him like her life depended on it. "I wish my rose beds could wait."

Shaking his head with a smile, Will patted his mother's arm. "It's only a few weeks, Mom, and you're barely half an hour away. Besides, you said your agent wants you to get these chapters done, right?"

Will's mom was the author of a popular garden series that had exceeded her publisher's expectations. Her latest volume was about wildflowers, so she'd planted a test garden at the family's cottage by the lake. She and Will's dad would stay there while she tended her plants and finished her book.

Will's father planted a soft kiss on the top of his wife's head and took her hand, pulling her into his arms. Will had inherited his dad's height and dark hair. "I hate to break it to you, Ellen, but Will's a big boy now, and our trip's probably the highlight of his summer. Some space at this age is healthy; you want him to be well adjusted, don't you?" He winked at Will.

Narrowing her eyes, Will's mom playfully swatted her husband away. "Save the psychology-speak for your students, Ben. I'm well aware Will's looking forward to these next few weeks." She raised an eyebrow and shot her son a stern look. "Just don't forget garbage day while we're gone."

While his parents squabbled over last minute odds and ends, Will ate a sandwich and let his attention stray. Through the open window, he smelled freshly mowed grass. The sound of faint laughter drifted into the kitchen, prompting him to crane his neck and peer outside. Some boys were playing catch in the neighbor's yard, and Will's eyes flicked toward the tallest of the three as he whooped for joy when his curveball whizzed past the catcher's glove. The boy wore his ball cap backward, and a mess of hair spilled out onto his forehead through the gap where the hat fastened. His Yankees jersey appeared well-loved, and his smile was contagious.

He looks like Alex.

Will inhaled sharply, and a piece of bread went down his throat the wrong way. Dropping his sandwich, his windpipe constricted as he gasped and coughed.
"Will, are you okay? Quick, Ben, get me some water." His mom rushed to pat him on the back, urging him to drink.

Will's fingers shook as he took the glass from her hand.

"Honey. What's wrong?"

Sighing, he pointed out the window and quickly looked away.

Will's mother followed his finger's path with her eyes. "Oh." Her voice was barely a whisper as she smoothed the dark hair off his forehead, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.

"I'm fine." The hurt never seemed to leave him completely, but at least it ached less than it did before. He was trying to learn how to live with an Alex-sized hole in his heart, but it didn't mean he liked it, and it didn't mean he'd accept it. Not really. Not ever. He closed his eyes for a second, just listening to the boys play.

His father looked out the window, spotted the kids and whistled low. "Wow. That little guy looks a lot like Alex did at that age, doesn't he? Remember how his mom used to hide his jersey so he'd wear something else from time to time?" Will's dad's smile was warm, and his 3 shimmered in the sunlight. "It's okay to remember him, son. That's the best way to honor your friendship." He placed his hand on Will's shoulder and squeezed.

"I know, Dad. Thanks." Pressing his lips together, Will bit the inside of his cheek. His mother's forehead creased with worry; her 2 was the color of an overcast sky. "You know what? We can leave tomorrow instead of today; it's no big deal. I don't want to go when you're upset."

Will sighed. "It's been over a year, Mom. I know how to deal now. You don't have to worry about me, okay? Seriously, I'd tell you if I needed you to stay." She looked at him for an extra beat and pursed her lips.

"He's right, Ellen. He knows how to reach us, and we'll call to check in tonight. He'll be fine; you'll see." Somehow, his father's gentle smile of encouragement did the trick.

His mom sighed. "Alright, we'll go; but if you need me just call. Please. I'll get in the car at any hour to drive back home if that's what you need. I promise."

"Thanks, Mom." Will reached out and folded her tiny frame into a hug; he didn't like her to worry. It was one of the reasons he didn't talk with her -- or his dad -- about the numbers.

As a child, he'd wondered if they could see them, too. After all, they stared back at him every time he looked someone in the eye. In his innocence, he'd asked his parents -- could they see the 5 that glowed back at him from the mirror? Could they see each other's silver 3 when they dipped their heads to speak? Could they see the 1 that floated, marshmallow-white in his grandpa's left pupil? But when he brought the numbers up, his parents just looked confused. Rewarded with strange looks, a smattering of questions he couldn't answer, and an early bedtime in exchange for his curiosity, Will stopped asking and moved on.

He couldn't escape their significance forever, though. Time passed, and he started to clue in as accidents and illness changed the course of life around him. Thanks to a rough fall from a tree, Will's sunny 5 turned into a 4; a ruptured appendix shifted his mother's 3 into a silvery 2, and his grandpa's 1 simply faded over time until they lost his gentle smile for good. Then came Alex's decline, the most painful lesson of all.

Alex. Will's brain conjured his best friend's face and his thumb rubbed worriedly against his index finger, over and over, at the memory.

No. Telling his parents would only make them worry -- about what he saw and why he saw it -- and Will didn't want to live under a microscope. All he wanted to do was pretend to be normal, even if that was something he'd never be.

"I'm going upstairs for a while. Let me know when you're ready to go." He counted backwards from ten as he climbed the stairs, practising the breathing exercise his dad taught him for times like this.

Reaching his room, Will found Toby sound asleep on the end of his bed. Sitting down beside him, he touched his warm golden fur and felt the tension in his shoulders start to dissolve. Opening his kind brown eyes, Toby sniffed Will's face, licked his cheek, and placed a gentle paw on his lap.

Toby had been Will's 13th birthday present; a companion for an only child and a lesson in growing responsibility. But, as it turned out, he took care of Will, too. Whenever he was upset or scared, Toby always seemed to sense he was needed.

Looking into his dog's eyes, Will saw unconditional love and nothing else. As it turned out, he couldn't read animals, so Toby made him feel normal for not seeing anything abnormal. And that may have been his greatest gift to Will.

"I saw somebody who reminded me of Alex when we were younger, Tobe," Will whispered into his fur. "Please tell me this will get easier. 'Cause it still kills to remember him; but at the same time, I'm afraid to forget."

Toby whined and moved closer to lean against Will's side, nudging his nose into Will's palm, snuffling a wet kiss against his skin.

"Thanks, boy. I don't know what I'd do without you. I just don't know."

They sat together until Will's mom called up to say it was time to go. With a jangle of his tags, Toby jumped off the bed and looked expectantly at Will before sauntering downstairs. At the front door, Will hugged his parents a little longer than usual, then helped them carry their suitcases out to the car.

***

With trunks and towel in hand, Will let himself in through the Archers' back gate. He found Josh in blue Hawaiian shorts and Ray Bans, lounging on a giant inflatable banana in the pool with a Sunny D perched in the cup holder. Will waved and walked toward the pool house. Turning the corner, he realized they weren't alone. Shelby and Skye lay draped on deck chairs, soaking up the late afternoon sun, one girl short and petite, the other long and lean. Shelby was glued to a copy of Gone Girl while Skye's face was buried in Victor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning.

"Hey Shel; Skye." He gave them a bro-nod, lifting his chin in the air.

"Well, if it isn't Will the Thrill." Shelby blew him a kiss without looking up from her book. Sarcasm was her language of love, and she happily doled out teasing affection for Will as often as she could.

"Heavy reading for a Saturday, huh Skye?" Frankl's work wasn't something most girls his age read by the side of a pool.

She turned her head to look his way, eyebrows raised in surprise, their dark arches peeking over the lenses of her shades. "You know this book?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, my dad's a psych professor. We've always had a copy at our house."

"And you've read it?"

He heard the doubt in her voice. "I have, actually... as punishment for mischief." Of course, that was a lie. The only reason Will read his dad's books was to try and figure out how to deal with a morbid ability he didn't understand. He hadn't found any answers yet, but it didn't stop him from trying. "What made you pick it up?"

She shrugged. "It just seemed interesting to me, I guess."

He looked at her a little closer. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"Not really," she countered. "I'm thinking about majoring in psych and there's only a year left before I graduate, so I figured I should get a head start."

Studying on vacation two summers before college? Will couldn't see through Skye's sunglasses, and it had been too dark the other night to tell, but he was still pretty confident she was a 5. In Will's experience, a select few made it to high school with their 5's intact. It took an impressive level of responsibility to maintain a number so high; after all, screw-ups, accidents and mistakes were a rite of teenage passage.

He looked at Skye again; her intelligence was intriguing, even if she did seem a little uptight. "To each their own." He shrugged, tipping his ball cap at the girls. Will put his things in the pool house, changed to his suit and made a beeline for the diving board.

"Ooh, I feel a belly flop coming on!" Josh called from his blow-up banana. "C'mon Brody, make me proud!"

Ignoring him, Will dove in. His senses dulled as the clear water swallowed sounds from the surface and surrounded him in its wet embrace. He closed his eyes as he swam and when his hand finally touched the shallow end wall, he popped back up, gasping for air.

"Show off!" Josh shouted. Grinning, Will ducked under water again and swam back to the deep end, grabbing Josh's giant floating fruit to capsize him. As they came up for air, Josh sputtered and wiped water from his eyes while Will cackled at his friend's expense. Warmth radiated from his chest, and the heavy feeling he'd been carrying since the morning started to melt away. Always a good sport, Josh simply smiled and punched Will's arm.

"Got room for two more?" Shelby called. She and Skye stood by the pool, towels in hand.

"There's always room for you, Shelby my love! You know my banana's big enough for both of us!" Wiggling his eyebrows, he flipped his lounge chair back over, climbed in and patted the vinyl seat.

"You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?" Shelby winked. "Alright lover, push over." Lowering herself into the water, she swam toward Josh and climbed up into the banana chair beside him.

Will felt his cheeks redden at their banter. He was acutely aware of Skye's presence, sitting on the pool's edge, long legs dangling in the water. Her toenails were painted a glossy black.

"So, Will, you said your dad's a psych professor? Where does he teach?" Her aviators were still perched on her nose and her voice was nonchalant.

"Dad works at NYU." Will wondered what her eyes looked like underneath her glasses. Swimming up beside her, he held onto the side of the pool. "He commutes a few days a week and lectures other classes online. Basically, he studies behaviors that motivate people's actions, emotions and thoughts. You know, he'd be proud I listened well enough to describe that in a simple sentence." Will smiled.

"Does he have a big collection of books at home?" Skye tilted her head to the side, twisting a stack of silver rings on her middle finger.

"Yeah, dad's got a study full of them. Mom keeps threatening to purge his collection, though. I think she's scared he'll be a hoarder by the time he's seventy. She wants him to start buying e-books but he's stubborn, so I don't really see that happening any time soon."

Skye looked down at her toes and wiggled them underwater. "I just wondered; do you think ... maybe he'd let me borrow a couple sometime? I mean, no pressure. I understand if he doesn't want to lend stuff to someone he doesn't know."

Will was surprised to hear shyness in her voice; she'd seemed so confident earlier. "Are you kidding? He'd be thrilled someone was taking an interest in his collection. He and mom are away at our cottage for a few weeks, but you can drop by anytime I'm home if you'd like to take a look." He cleared his throat; the invitation had just popped out of his mouth.

Her lips curled up at their corners. "Thanks. I just might take you up on that."

"Hey! Are you guys hungry?" Josh called over, cutting their conversation short. "My parents won't be home 'til ten and pizza's on me if you're interested."

Will grinned at Skye, then shouted back, "If it's on you, then yeah, I'm interested."

Josh shook his head. "Somehow, I knew you'd say that. Come on, Shelby, my love. Let's ditch this banana and get some real food!" Planting a quick kiss on his girlfriend's lips, Josh tipped their inflatable lounger over, and Shelby squealed as she hit the water.

Will grabbed his towel and wiped his face, finding himself watching Skye's gently curving figure as she slipped through the gate and turned toward the house. The sun was just starting to go down, the breeze was warm on his back, and the unmistakable smell of barbecue wafted through a neighbor's yard. Will breathed deep as he walked into the pool house to change. It had turned out to be a good day; the kind that helped him forget his regrets.

Inside, Josh and Shelby were sitting on the leather couch in the den watching TV. "Hey buddy, pizza will be here in thirty. I told them not a minute late or it's on them. Want some chips?" Josh pushed the bowl in Will's direction.

"Nah, I'm fine. I'm going to grab a drink. Be right back." Josh's house was like Will's second home, so he'd learned to help himself. Strolling into the kitchen, he spotted Skye, half-hidden by the stainless fridge door making a selection of her own.

"Hey, Skye, can you pass me a Coke?"

"Sure thing. Here you go." Standing up, she handed him a can. Sunglasses perched on her head, her eyes were wide, green and rimmed with thick lashes. It dawned on him that they were beautiful.

And another thing: he'd guessed wrong. Skye was a 1.

***