“Shit. Dude, do you think she’s off using somewhere?”

“She isn’t into drugs.” Colin glares at Jay before looking down and flicking a leaf off his handlebar. The hills are silent, but the wind howls around them, catching the snow and spinning it before letting it fall back to the ground. “I think I need to tell you something.”

Jay kicks the snow from his boots and waits.

“So, Lucy . . . Man, I don’t even know how to say this.” Colin laughs at the absurdity of this and feels a wave of sympathy for Lucy in hindsight, for his reaction the night she told him the truth. But, God, he needs to tell someone. He’s not sure he can go another day shouldering the weight of her absence alone. “She’s dead,” he says simply, after all.

Jay’s legs buckle, and he catches the back of the bench before slipping. “What the hell? How are you just telling me—”

“No! Not like that. I mean, she’s always been dead, Jay. Well, not always. But at least as long as I’ve known her.”

Eyes narrowed, Jay’s expression pinches into irritation. “That’s not funny.”

Colin doesn’t answer; he only stares down at the slush as it seeps into the sides of his shoes. “You know she’s different.”

“Yeah, different. Like with the boots and badass take on the frumpy uniform and how she doesn’t look at anyone but you. Not dead.”

“I know it sounds crazy—”

“You think?” Long moments of silence stretch between them before Jay adds, “You’re serious about this.” Colin meets his eyes, gaze unwavering, and nods. “So she’s what? Like . . . a Walker?”

“Yeah, essentially.”

“But I’ve helped her with her coat. I’ve . . .” Jay trails off, blinking.

“We don’t understand everything. She met another ghost here at school, and he’s convinced they’re, like, guardian spirits or something.”

“Okay?” Jay scratches his neck, looking completely confused.

“So, just stay with me here, okay?”

Jay nods, and Colin breaks a brittle twig from the tree beside him, poking deep holes in the snow near his rear tire.

“When I fell into the lake that day, I think I had some sort of out-of-body experience. I was standing behind you, watching you freak out. Then, I don’t even know why, but I walked away, down the trail. Like, I wasn’t even worried or scared. Lucy was running down the trail, and I yelled for her to stop. She thought I got out of the lake somehow. I mean, she could see me, even though my body was with you, on the ice. And, Jay, I could feel her.” Colin can’t tell if Jay believes any of this because his face doesn’t register any reaction. But Colin pushes on. “Before I went in, and now . . . I can’t really touch her. I can, but it overwhelms her. And when she touches me, it’s never enough.” Colin can feel the heat in his cheeks; he and Jay don’t talk specifics. “Sorry, I know this is TMI, but I need to get it out.”

“It’s cool. I mean, I sort of owe you one. I’m pretty sure you were awake that one time Kelsey stayed over and—”

“I was,” Colin says, waving away the awkward memory. “Lucy’s touch makes me crazy because it’s always almost enough to feel good, but then it stops short.” Grabbing the back of his neck, he winces. “I mean, we can’t . . . like, no way could we be together like that. And it’s not even about that. It’s her and the way everything looked when I went in . . . Seriously, Jay, it was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jay blinks away, out toward the span of trees hiding the lake from their view. “This sounds crazy.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean, I’m legitimately worried that you have brain damage.”

“I don’t. I’m not crazy, Jay.”

Jay looks back at him then. Colin can tell when his best friend believes him because his face falls, and he looks defeated, as if insanity or brain damage would be a far easier solution. Colin laughs, because he’s had the same reaction.

“This is funny?” Jay asks, confusion bleeding into defensiveness.

“No, not even a little. It’s that I know exactly what you’re thinking. I wish I was crazy.”

“I don’t have a lot of experience with crazy people. I haven’t ruled it out yet.”

“Well, then, let me get everything out.” He pauses, glancing up at Jay before dropping his gaze to the stick he’s stabbed deep into the snow. “I think we could do it again.”

“Do what again?” Jay asks slowly, enunciating every syllable.

“Go into the lake.” Before Jay can get a word in, Colin barrels on. “I started researching hypothermia, and it takes a long time for the brain to shut down entirely. I mean, in between being cold and being dead, there’s a lot of room.”

“You are crazy.”

“No, Jay, listen. I understand it. Metabolism slows. The body shuts down to preserve energy. But the mind is still active, and in that time, I’m somehow able to be like her. Before Lucy disappeared, I promised I wouldn’t talk about it anymore, but staying out of the lake didn’t keep her here.”

Jay groans and rubs his face, and it’s at this moment that Colin knows his best friend is going to help him. “So we do this now, or when she gets back?”

“When she gets back. I don’t know if I can find her now. I don’t know where she is.”

“Are you sure about this? I mean, this isn’t riding on chains and boards over the quarry, Colin. The day you went into the lake was fucking scary. I thought you died.”

“I’m here and fine.” Colin tells him about Liz’s cousin, how he fell through the ice and stayed out for four hours. How he’s alive and walking around. He tells Jay about the forums, how the people there see hypothermia as the ultimate extreme sport. “You’re the only one I’d trust.”