Before I Fall

Izzy blows air out between her lips. “I wish nobody ever died,” she says.



I feel an ache in my throat, but I manage to smile. Two conflicting desires go through me at the same time, each as sharp as a razorblade: I want to see you grow up and Don’t ever change. I put my hand on the top of her head. “It would get pretty crowded, Fizz,” I say.



“I’d move into the ocean,” Izzy says matter-of-factly.



“I used to lie here like this all summer long,” I tell her. “I’d come up here and just stare at the sky.”



She rolls over on her back so she’s staring up as well. “Bet this view hasn’t changed much, has it?”



What she says is so simple I almost laugh. She’s right, of course. “No. This looks exactly the same.”



I suppose that’s the secret, if you’re ever wishing for things to go back to the way they were. You just have to look up.



THROUGH THE DARK



I check my phone when I get home: three new text messages. Lindsay, Elody, and Ally have each texted me the exact same thing: Cupid Day