Gretchen scrambled to the edge and looked over. But all she saw was a deep blackness. And the only noise was the crashing of the waves on the rocks below.
Will came to with a sudden jerk, a spasm in his neck. “Ow.”
“Shh.”
Finger to the lips. Green eyes. Long dark hair spilling forward, brushing his chest lightly.
“Where-?” Will looked around. He heard the soft crash of the sea as he struggled to sit upright. All of his limbs seemed to be in working order, but his mind-that was another matter.
“You fell,” Asia told him.
Will looked at her, wondering dimly what she was doing there. “I know.” Yes, he remembered.
Will remembered exactly what happened.
From his second-story window, he had seen a figure in white slipping through the darkness. It was Gretchen. Although the night was dark, Will could see her clearly, as if she were illuminated with her own inner fire. Ghostlike, Gretchen made her way through the trees and headed toward the bluff.
“Damn,” Will cursed under his breath, and yanked on his jeans. He shoved his feet into his sneakers and raced out the back door without tying the laces. The screen door banged behind him as he loped toward the willows.
For a moment he couldn’t see her. Then-there, between the trunks-a flash of white. “Gretchen!” he shouted, plunging into the darkness after her.
Twice before he’d caught her sleepwalking. Once, when they were seven years old, Will had seen her on the porch, and he snuck out of the house to join her. Her eyes were open, and she spoke to him. But it was in a strange voice, with words he didn’t understand. It took him a while to realize that she wasn’t awake, and then he was frightened. He’d heard that you could kill someone if you woke them while they were sleepwalking, and he was still young enough to believe it. He didn’t dare shout for help, and he didn’t dare to leave her. So they sat there for over two hours, until Will’s father went to check on him and realized that he wasn’t in bed. He found Will and Gretchen on Gretchen’s porch swing. Gretchen had fallen fully asleep, her head in a wide-eyed Will’s lap.
The next time was four years later. Will had heard a noise downstairs, so he grabbed his baseball bat and crept into the kitchen. There was Gretchen. She was bathed in the warm light of the fridge as she stood before its open door, staring blankly at the bags of turnips, the wilting greens, the chicken thighs, the iced tea, the half-empty jar of mayonnaise, the bottle of chocolate syrup. Will took her hand and gently closed the fridge. Then he led her out the door, down the steps. His feet were slippery with dew as he led her across the lawn to her house, where a frantic Johnny had just realized she was missing.
These were Will’s thoughts as he stumbled after Gretchen in the dark. He was afraid that she might hurt herself. If she reached the bluff, she could fall…
He doubled his pace. A branch whipped across his cheek, a rock found its way into his shoe, but he didn’t stop.
In a moment he was beyond the trees and could see her, moving quickly across the wide sweep of grass that led to the bluff. The distant roar of the ocean grew nearer, more dangerous.
She paused for a moment, looked up at the gibbous moon with her unseeing eyes.
“Gretchen!”
She darted forward, her long legs racing toward the precipice. Will’s breath was thick and heavy in his throat. The long muscles in his thighs burned as he tore up the incline. She was five steps from the edge. Three.
Two.
“Gretchen!” Will shouted, reaching for her. A fistful of fabric, and he yanked her back. She raked her nails across his face and let out an unearthly scream. She hit at his throat, choking him. He struggled for breath, but he wouldn’t let go.
Gretchen gave a sudden, violent kick. Will cried out as he fell to his knees. “Wake up!” he cried as she kicked again.
His knee slipped as blows rained down on him-he was shocked at her strength. His leg skidded over the edge of the bluff, his foot straining for purchase against gravel and rock. Will reached for the ground with his hands, but he grasped only earth. He reached for her leg, but one last, terrible kick sent him reeling backward. “Gretchen!” he cried as his fingers struggled to keep their grip on the gravel.
He couldn’t see the waves below, but he could hear them. He knew the rocks well. Mountainous boulders of slick red granite. Jagged as shark teeth, and as unforgiving.
His arms ached with strain as he struggled to pull himself upward. But the ground crumbled beneath his fingers, and in a sickening plunge, he fell back into thin air. A searing flash against the back of his head, and then even the stars went black…
And now, green eyes. Asia. Her face was clear in the light of the fattening moon.
“What are-? How did you-?” He sat up, then stood uncertainly, testing the pain in his body. He squeezed his eyes shut. Aches. Soreness. But nothing broken. He could feel a knot forming-he must have hit the back of his head when he went over the edge. But he wasn’t at the foot of the rocks. He was on the sand at the base of the bluff, a hundred feet away. It was as if a breeze had blown in and carried him to safety. He opened his eyes. “What happened?”
No answer.
He turned, and found himself alone. Asia had simply disappeared.
Will fought the feeling of unreality that was creeping over him like an army of ants.
“Will!” someone shrieked. “Will!”
It was Gretchen’s voice.
“Here!” he called.
“Will? Will?” A figure in white tore down the bluff. “Oh my God!” In a moment, Gretchen reached him, wrapped him in a hug. “Oh my God.” She sobbed against his bare chest, and suddenly Will’s teeth began to chatter in the cold night air. He was shivering, desperately cold, but relief made his joints feel fluid and loose.
“It’s okay.” Will patted her hair awkwardly.
“I’m okay.”
“I thought you were-” “I’m not.”
“But you-” She looked back at the bluff. Put a hand to her forehead. “I was dreaming.”
“I know.”
“What happened?” Will shook his head. “No clue.”
“But you were up there.” She gestured toward the bluff. Then her face crumpled in confusion. “Weren’t you?”
“I think so.”
Gretchen slipped her slender fingers into his, intertwining them like bean vines. “Are we both going crazy?” she whispered.
Will couldn’t quite make himself say no. “I don’t know,” he said instead.
“Great,” Will said bitterly as they neared his house. It was lit up, as if they had turned every light on in the place so they could look for him in the shadows-behind the couch, in the corners of the closet. His mother was probably tearing the house apart to try to find him. He could practically hear her wearing the floorboards smooth with her pacing.
“I’ll go in with you,” Gretchen offered.
“You don’t have to,” Will told her.
Gretchen squeezed his hand as if she couldn’t let it go, and Will realized that she was still shaking. The trembling had passed through his body like an earthquake, leaving him exhausted and dazed. He imagined the rubble of fallen buildings, windows shattered, bricks and rocks and scattered papers blowing down a deserted street. That was how he felt: wasted.
Gretchen, on the other hand, looked down at him with wide eyes, pupils dilated. Her hand felt hot-she was almost burning him with the intensity of her grip-and Will realized that she was frightened. Terrified. For her, the earthquake was still happening.
“Come on,” he said.
