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clad shoulders, gently pushing him away.
    He let go of my neck, wiped his cheeks with his palms as he rested back on his heels. With damp eyes, he stared at the blue-green water, appearing to still be somewhere else. The right side of his face pulled tight every few seconds, and I noticed the fingers on his right hand twitching like they had the day he was stung.
    “Did you take your pills?” I asked, fairly certain they helped control his muscle spasms.
    His jaw clenched as he turned towards me. “Fuck you, you’re not my mother.”
    I held up my hands as I unfolded myself from the flat rock. “Suit yourself. I was just asking.” Obviously he had recovered from whatever had sent him over the edge. I turned to leave. “If you’re going to kill yourself, give me fifteen minutes head start so I don’t hear you scream.” I was pushing the huckleberry bushes back when he responded.
    “Don’t.”
    I looked at him over my shoulder. He was frowning, and sucking on his lip ring.
    “Don’t what? Pass judgment on you? I just found you practically comatose, cutting yourself—”
    He shook his head, halting my rant. “Don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone.” He looked down at his twitching hand, then reached inside his coat, and pulled out his pills.
    Something about the way he was slumped over with that confused, dejected look across his face made him appear incredibly vulnerable. I supposed the fact he had been clinging to me, a virtual stranger, crying recklessly, added to his vulnerability. I watched him wrestle with the pill bottle another second, then sighed and headed back over. Even though you couldn’t see anything amiss when he was drawing, he seemed to have trouble gripping and turning the cap.
    I reached for the bottle, and he glared at me as he jerked it away. I yanked the bottle out of his hands, pushing the cap down while turning it.
    “How in the world do you get this open on your own?” I handed the opened bottle back.
    He laughed ruefully. “When I get bad, I usually don’t.” He swallowed the pills down.
    “Why don’t you flip the cap over?”
    I received a moronic look for that suggestion. “Why didn’t I think of that? Because, Einstein, if some kid got a hold of them...” Dropping the bottle back into his inside pocket, Zane rearranged himself until he was sitting cross-legged, his elbows on his knees, facing the creek.
    I sat down next to him, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “No.”
    I gave him a sideways glance. He kept staring at the creek. “Why do you want me here then?”
    He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know...maybe to keep me from doing something crazy.” He let out a derogatory laugh.
    I turned my head the same direction as his, and watched the gnat clouds shifting as one over the water. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. Losing your family all in one fell swoop would probably mess anyone up. Maybe he was suicidal, maybe he was barely holding on to this side of sanity, but I was in awe over the fact he functioned as much as he did.
    Zane lit a cigarette and smoked while appearing to be quietly contemplating. Possibly about what had just happened, or maybe he was thinking about his family, or the accident. Even though I was curious about what had set him off, I let him be. It wasn’t my place to ask such things. I mean, I barely knew the guy.
    After he finished his smoke, I said, “I think I should take you home. My dad will be looki—”
    “I wasn’t ready to leave.” Zane pulled his lips between his teeth, and then glanced at me as if he had suddenly realized I was still here. A fringe of hair tangled with his lashes, and my fingers itched to push it out of the way. “I wanted to stay in Chicago. I wasn’t ready to leave Fairhaven, but they moved me out here anyway. They took me, knowing I wasn’t ready.”
    “What’s Fairhaven?”
    He turned back to the water. “I miss the skyline, the hustle of