Up this high, the entire lake is in view. Bright green trees coat the landscape. Tiny people kayak down below, and Philip and I sit on the cliff's edge, eating ham sandwiches, fresh fruit, and chips.

And here we are again. Here I am, sitting casually on a cliff side, laughing at Philip's jokes, talking about our childhood – feeling blissfully confident.

And though I remember nothing of him, the details he gives of our childhood add to the sense of authenticity. He remembers the grape juice I spilled in my bedroom, that I changed the layout of my room and successfully hid the stain from my mother for a year. He remembers the names of my childhood toys, and my secret hiding spot in the barn.

I shake my head at him, and smile. "I can't figure out why I don't remember you."

He leans back onto his elbow. "Well, maybe you do. Maybe it's just buried in your subconscious, bubbling up here and there."

I smile. "I don't seem to be experiencing any bubbles."

"No?" he says. "Well, tell me this. What brought you to the lake?"

I blush a little, closing my eyes as I silently laugh. "You weren't calling."

"I mean before," he says. "In June."

I try not to react too suddenly, but my smile is lost. Do I really have to answer this question?

Philip tilts his head a little, and I feel a tug that says, It's okay. You're safe.

"Oh, come on," he says. "It can't be that hard of a question to answer."

But it is. How can I tell him about my suicidal preoccupation? He'll run. He'll run for the hills.

Philip sits back up, eyes wide. "Alison?"

Again, there is that pull, only this time it brings a warmth of safety. And there's a slight rippling of darkness in his irises. The moment I notice it, he averts his gaze, and my mind tells me it's nothing.

A cloud passes over the sun, dimming our surroundings. It seems appropriate. His question has put a damper on things.

Just tell me, my mind says as if he were the one speaking to me.

I set my sandwich down and hug my knees. My eyes land on the beach down below, on about where I entered the lake. I follow the path with my eyes and then peer up at the rocks where I'd first seen Philip watching me.

I breathe.

"I was going to kill myself," I say, and a chill sweeps over me.

His response is so quiet, it's almost inaudible. "What?"

I swallow. "I mean, I wasn't quite sure if I'd go through with it. I wasn't even sure that's what I wanted, but I've been depressed a very long time. Truth be told, I have no friends. My cousins barely tolerate me. My aunt is just aching to get rid of me."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Philip says.

And I look at him. "How would you know?"

He says nothing.

I turn my gaze back to the lake. "There was a part of me that thought entering the lake might cure me. I'd face my fears head on. Here's the lake I nearly died in. Maybe if I stood there long enough and nothing bad happened, the fear would go away."

A drop of rain lands on my arm, and I stare at it. There isn't the slightest hint of anxiety within me right now. I'm completely calm.

I look up at Philip. "Maybe it sort of has, though I don't think it's the lake."

But he turns his head toward the lake and rests his chin on his knee.

I rub the drop of rain off my arm and breathe in. I can't believe I just hinted at what I suspect.

"Suicide," Philip says. "It's not friendly. It offers no real solutions."

I blink several times. No one has ever said anything quite like that to me before.

He looks at me again, still resting his chin on his knee. "I'm sorry you've suffered so much. I wish . . ." But he doesn't finish, and my insides insist I tell him more.

"Well, it was sort of Mia's idea," I say.

"Mia." His voice sounds low and somber, quiet.

"She said to me one night," I start. "She asked me why I hadn't done it yet. I mean, I'd thought about it. Pills, knives – something that would allow me to doze off and never wake up. But Mia – she said, 'Just walk into that lake and get it over with.' And there was something poetic about it."

Thunder rumbles in the distance, and we turn our gaze to the hills. Dark clouds gather just over the horizon, past the west bluff.

And Philip says in a low voice, "We should get going before we get caught in a downpour."

We are silent most of the walk back. The sky continues to gray, and a light drizzle of rain wets our faces.

Philip seems deep in thought, but as we reach the Visitor's Center and the path that leads to the lynx mound and the campground, he turns toward me.

"Do you think you can find your way back from here?" he says.

I stop and turn around. "You're leaving?"

He hesitates. "I . . . I realized I have to be somewhere," he says and abruptly adds. "Soon."

"Oh," I say and frown.

And then he waits. We stand facing each other, the line of a parking space between us.

"So, you can find your way back okay?" he says.

I squint my eyes shut, trying to digest what's happening. I shouldn't have told him. I shouldn't have told him. Why did I tell him?

He touches my chin briefly. "Chin up, Alison. You'll be alright."

I look into his eyes and though he keeps staring at me, nothing happens. He looks sad, and my eyes well up a little.

"Well," he says. "Goodbye."

He doesn't wait for me to say anything. He just walks away.

"Wait," I say, and he stops and turns around.

"Dinner," I spit out. "My cousins wanted me to invite you to dinner. Can you make it?" Please say yes. Please say yes.

"You told them about me?"

"Well, yeah."

"Huh." He looks off to the side and seems to consider. "Well, that could complicate things."

"What?"

He looks at me, and a light breeze passes over us, playing with his hair and the ends of his shirt.

"You really want," he says. "I mean . . . Wow. You really want to see me again."

Emotions crash within me, but all I do is stare at him blankly.

He sighs and looks off to the side again. "Find some time alone," he says. "I'll be there, but don't mention me anymore to your cousins."

Now, I'm angry. "What am I supposed to do? Pretend you don't exist?"

He shakes his head and shrugs. "I suppose you can do what you want."

But I continue, "So, what? You're supposed to stay a secret? Is that why you disappeared yesterday?"

"Alison – "

"No! I want to know what's going on."

But there's a rumble of thunder in the distance. The rain starts to pour down hard on us. We run over to the Visitor's Center and shield ourselves with the overhanging roof.

In a moment, his arms are around me. I get a close up view of his shoulder, the white material sticking to his skin. And then he pulls away and looks into my eyes.

"I have to go now," he says.

And then he runs off into the rain which pours down so hard he disappears into a blur of colors.