Towering

coming, there was another shot, and he killed himself. And I knew all about it, but I did nothing.”
    The room felt so cold, and I started to shiver, shiver uncontrollably, worse than the day I fell in the lake. Rachel held me tight. She said, “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. You couldn’t have seen it coming.”
    “You don’t think so?”
    “No. I didn’t see it coming, even when you told me. To believe that would happen, you would have to be so negative. You would have to think people are evil. You’re not like that.”
    I shook my head. “In the days after that, I felt so many different things, sad, angry, guilty, but mostly just numb, like part of me was dead. But other times, I felt like I could just go over there, just go and change it, see Tyler and tell him to run, tell him to leave. A couple of times, I started out the door before I noticed the police tape, before I remembered the ambulances that had come for their bodies. And on the day of the funeral, I felt like if I just told someone, maybe I could fix it. I knew it wasn’t true, that nothing was going to bring Tyler back.
    “Still, I felt so guilty. I told a friend, this girl in my class, Megan. I told her how guilty I felt, like I could have prevented it.”
    “What did she say?” Rachel stroked my back.
    “Nothing. She didn’t say anything at all.” I remembered her stony face, then her back as she turned away. “I’m sure she hated me.”
    “I bet she didn’t,” Rachel said. “That would be so unfair. It wasn’t your fault.”
    “Do you really think so?”
    “Of course it wasn’t. You couldn’t have predicted the future. No one else even knows what they would have done. Everyone thinks they’d do the heroic thing, but you never really know.” She pulled away from me, angry and fierce. “The person whose fault it was is dead. It wasn’t your fault.”
    “I wish I could be sure.”
    “You should be sure.” She stroked my hair. “You’re a hero. You came out here, all this way to find me. Who else would do that?”
    “Lots of guys.”
    “I haven’t seen any of them.” She walked to the window and opened it. “Helloooooo! Are you out there? Hellooooo?”
    I laughed. “They must have fallen in the lake.”
    “Oh, I see.”
    “Okay, maybe not that many guys have the same kind of time on their hands as I do.” Though, in Slakkill, that probably wasn’t true.
    “So you just came to rescue me because you had time on your hands?” She glanced out the window again. “Maybe I should look for those guys.”
    “That didn’t come out right.”
    “Try again, then.” She closed the window, looking at me the whole time. Then, she walked toward me and put her arms around me.
    “You’re so incredible,” I said.
    She kissed me, my cheeks, my eyes. I kissed her back, stroking her hair, her hair, and for a moment, holding her, I forgot.
    She took my hand and led me to a little sofa in the corner, the type of sofa my grandfather would have called a settee. She placed her arms around my neck and pulled me down, down with her until I was on top of her, feeling her beneath me. I felt alive, alive for the first time since Tyler had died, not just pretending like with Astrid, just going through the motions. I felt that finally, there was something worth living for. She pulled me toward her, my mouth on her mouth, and I felt her heartbeat beneath me. I was alive.
    “I think . . . I love you, Rachel. I know it’s too soon. I’ve only met you twice. But you saved my life . . . twice.” I really felt like she’d saved my life today too, like I’d been dead, but now, I wasn’t.
    “I know,” she said. “I feel the same way. And you will save my life too. You will.”
    “Let me save it,” I told her. “Please come with me.”
    “Not now.” She kissed me again. “But soon. I love you. Soon.”

Wyatt
    I wondered about the car, the one that had followed me—whether it would still be there when I returned to Mrs. Greenwood’s house. Probably not. Probably, it hadn’t been about Rachel at all. After all, I hadn’t told anyone about Rachel. In fact, I hadn’t told the guys at the Red Fox I was staying with Mrs. Greenwood. I’d given them Astrid’s name.
    Astrid. I felt bad about not calling her. We’d only made out New Year’s Eve, which was practically required by law anyway. Still, I knew she’d really liked me. Or, at least, liked the fact that I was a guy she hadn’t known since