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For him. He wasn’t convinced it didn’t sound so bad for Shira. He turned away, feeling the temperature drop. “Sure. Okay.” A beat when she could have said something. Anything.

But she didn’t. So he continued, “We should finish up. I bet the kids are waiting.” And he set off without checking to see if she’d follow.

Sure enough, the kids swarmed him as soon as he set foot over the strings of light marking the boundary. “Did you like it?” the oldest one asked, breathless, eyes sparkling.

Leo forced a smile. “Sure did,” he said. “We were really impressed with how you repurposed all the Christmas light-up figures. Right?” He glanced over his shoulder. Shira wasn’t there. Without meaning to, he reached back for her, like he could somehow sweep her into being. The space where she should be was cold and empty.

“Right,” she said, and he felt like an idiot because she was just on his other side. “Really smart.”

The kid positively vibrated with delight. “Can you believe we looked for light-up Maccabees and King Antiochus and couldn’t find any?” Leo shook his head, bemused. “I mean, we found some online, but they were really expensive, and Mom and Dad said we had to work with what was on clearance at the dollar store, so those were our options.”

“Well, you did a great job,” said Leo. He reached for his wallet and peeled off a twenty, then hesitated. Would Shira think he was cheap?

Who the fuck cares if Shira thinks you’re cheap? He handed over the twenty. Shira followed up with a twenty of her own. The kids cheered. “We’re rich!” Their parents waved from the porch as if apologizing as Leo and Shira cleared out.

Back in the car, Leo turned on his headlights, which drowned out the scene before him. He was careful to check his rear mirror and windows about a thousand times to avoid running over an errant kid before pulling onto the lightless street.

Shira was the first to speak once they’d made it back to the main road and Leo was waiting to turn right. “Will you still come to the party tomorrow night?”

Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything less appealing. Going over to Shira’s house, to the party he always used to go to with his dad, having to awkwardly accept all the neighbors’ condolences for his dad and deflect all the neighbors’ questions about Emily, while putting on a happy face for Shira and dealing with the surge of complicated feelings in his gut every time he circled around to face a photo of her on the wall or on a table, which, in the Levinson house, was literally everywhere? It sounded awful.

So he took the easy way out. “I wish I could, but I can’t,” he said, eyes on the road, the yellow line streaking into the distance. “My aunt is having a little gathering.”

“Oh.”

Leo slowed at the sight of two eyes gleaming like coins on the side of the road. He caught the brief swish of a tail before whatever it was turned and vanished into the dark woods. “Yeah.”

Quiet fell over the car again, but this wasn’t the comfortable silence of two old friends happy to exist in each other’s company. It was thick, uncomfortable, like an itchy wool sweater you were forced to wear even though it wasn’t even that cold out.

Shira was the first to break it again. “I hope this doesn’t make things too weird,” she said. “I wish I could take it back. The kiss.”

“Don’t say that,” Leo said, then immediately felt awkward because that made it sound like he was happy it had happened. He fumbled, trying to recover. “I’m serious that my aunt is having a thing. Otherwise I would go.” Otherwise he would have to think of a better excuse, he meant. But, here in the dark, glancing over at Shira, it was hard to know what year they were in. The darkness softened everything, reducing her face to a flash of cheek here or a gleam of eye there, and she could’ve been twelve, lying on his floor bemoaning the starters in the new Pokémon expansion; or she could’ve been fourteen, crying that he was moving away; or she could’ve been twenty-two, back in his life and the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Or she could’ve been thirty, older and surer and still new and uncertain, because weren’t they all new and uncertain no matter how old they were? What would she be like at thirty? What would he be like at thirty? Thirty was getting closer and closer, which felt wild and a little mean. “Spending time on regrets is pointless. You can’t go back in time.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said quietly.

He continued, “If my kissing you five years ago didn’t ruin our friendship, this won’t ruin our friendship, either. We’re even. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said. “I just…once your dad’s house sells, you’ll have no reason to be in the neighborhood anymore.”

“We’ll text each other,” he said. “Okay?”

She didn’t respond, just turned to look out the window. It was fine. She didn’t need to respond. He knew exactly what was going through her head: We said we’d text each other the first time you moved.

But this time would be different, he vowed. This time, he’d actually lost her, and he knew what it was like to be Shira Levinson–less. And that wasn’t a world he wanted to live in.

Texts between Leo David and Shira Levinson, June:

Leo: Happy birthday!

Shira: Thanks!

Leo:…

Shira:…

From Shira Levinson’s email inbox, September:

Dear Shira, Your lease application for 105 Glenbrook Ave, Unit 501, in Philadelphia, PA has been approved! Please find enclosed the amended document, whose term begins on January 1st. You can pick up the keys within a week of your lease’s start date at the management office, whose address is…