Everything was different after that day. While Summer and I drove 200 miles away so nobody would know she got an abortion, Marissa lay dying in a hospital in Orange County. Summer had slept at my house the night of the accident and we left for the clinic before the sun rose. Neil had called Summer repeatedly that day, but she didn't answer. She thought he just wanted to know where she was and she didn't want to lie to him, nor could she tell him what we were doing.

So we'd been killing our baby the morning Marissa died, and Summer never forgave herself. Or me.

She'd spent the summer months in silence or in tears, camping out at my house because Julie's fits and sobs filled hers, and Summer just couldn't deal.

Summer and Ryan became quite a pair. He would only talk to Summer about the whole Marissa-is-dead debacle, and she picked up some great brooding techniques from Ryan. The three of us settled into a quiet routine, playing video games or watching TV all day. Sometimes I would drag them to the beach or the pier or the Bait Shop, just to get them out of the house. But Summer said everything reminded her of Marissa and though Ryan never said it, I knew he agreed.

Sometimes the two of them would disappear into the pool house for awhile, I was never invited. But Summer would come up to my room after those talks and curl herself into my arms and cry. She would cry for Marissa, the best friend that she'd lost. She would cry for the baby we didn't have, cry for the relationship we both were holding onto by our fingertips.

Somehow, Summer had decided that it was her fault Marissa had died, that she lost her best friend as punishment for having the abortion. I tried to tell her no, she was wrong. I tried to tell her we made the right choice and Marissa's death was a horrible accident, but Summer said there were no accidents. She didn't believe in them anymore. There was a reason Marissa was dead, and it all came down to Summer.

The night before she left for Providence, I could feel my heart breaking. Sure I would be out there in a few months, and we would see each other in between...but Summer was broken and delicate and I didn't want to leave her alone. I sat on her bed while she was packing. In avoiding her house she'd put it off for too long and was now well behind.

"Do you think I should bring these?" She asked, holding up a pair of heeled purple sandals.

"I don't know, will you wear them?"

"They're Dior," she said, like that answered everything.

"Is that a yes?"

She sighed and threw them unceremoniously into the box she was working on. Then she sealed it with tape and uncapped her Sharpie, carefully labeling it "Shoes-CAREFUL".

"Sum your shoes aren't exactly fragile."

"There's thousands of dollars of shoes in here Cohen. And there's no price on sentimental value."

She was trying so hard to be cheerful, trying so hard to be light and playful and casual. But her eyes were dark and her laugh was fake.

"Come lay down with me," I said, patting the bed beside me.

She shook her head, flipping through the hangers in her closet. "I have to pack."

"Just for a minute?" I pressed. "You leave tomorrow morning and then I won't see you for months."

She turned around with a sad smile and walked over to the bed. "Thanks for the guilt trip, jerk."

"They're my forte." We lay down and she rested her head on my chest and draped her arm over my stomach, settling back into familiar positions.

"I love you," I murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I love you a lot."

"You too."

"And I'm gonna miss you so much."

"You too," she sighed.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked.

"What do you mean, Cohen?" She asked, tipping her head up to look at me. "Nothing's wrong."

"This isn't how it's supposed to be, Summer. It's your last night, it's supposed to be all 'I'll miss you, I don't want to leave you, I love you' and lots and lots of sex."

"I'm sorry," she said. She sat up and straddled me, a playful smile on her face. "Lots and lots of sex?" She asked, sliding her hand under my shirt.

"And lots," I affirmed.

"Cohen, I'll miss you so much, I don't ever want to leave you, and I love you more than anything. Let's do it."

"Hi," I said groggily, answering the three am phone call without moving my head from the pillow. I'd been at Brown for weeks, and I was irritated that Seth still hadn't figured out that I was in a different time zone.

"Sorry, you're sleeping aren't you?" Seth said. "I'm sorry Summer, I forgot about the time difference."

"Yeah," I sighed, rolling over and closing my eyes. I was bone-tired and had an early morning class, but I didn't want to make him feel bad. "It's fine though, what do you need?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," he said. "We didn't talk all day and then you were supposed to call me before bed, I guess you forgot?"

"Yeah, I did. I'm sorry Cohen, I was at a study session and it went way late and when I got back to my room I just crashed."

"That's okay," he said. He was quiet for a few seconds. "So, um, how was your day?"

"Fine. Busy."

"That's it? That's all I get? I've been waiting to talk to you all day, Summer. And we barely spoke yesterday because you were so busy. I just want to know what's going on with you all the way across the country."

I rolled my eyes, sitting up a little bit so I wouldn't fall asleep while I was on the phone with Seth. "Well, today, my roommate and I went out to breakfast to study for our micro quiz and the waiter hit on her, and then he took her out to a party tonight and she texted me a few hours ago to say she's spending the night."

"Wow. What a ho."

"Yeah." The waiter had actually been hitting on both of us, but there was no reason for Seth to know that. It would hurt his feelings.

"What else? How'd the quiz go?"

"It went okay," I said. "Cohen, honestly, I'm happy to talk to you but I don't want to talk about school. It'll put me to sleep. How was your day?"

"Good. I went to see Ryan at school and hung out with him for the day."

"How's he doing? I haven't talked to him in awhile."

"Better, I think," Seth said. "He likes his classes." He paused, silent for another few seconds. "He misses her a lot still. He keeps a picture of her next to his bed. He thinks about her a lot."

I hated when Seth talked about her, when he talked about Marissa. I hated for him to bring her up, because I hated to think about her. It made my stomach twist and my vision blur. "Oh," I said.

"There's this girl, Lucy, and she totally has a thing for him, but he barely gives her the time of day. She's really cute too-"

"Scuse me?" I cut in, sensing a perfect opportunity to sidetrack Seth. "She's cute?"

"Sure," he said, his voice uneasy. "Cute like a puppy or something."

"And I'm what?"

"Gorgeous. Sexy. Incredibly hot. Do I need to keep going, or have I redeemed myself?"

"Fine." I yawned. "Well stop looking at other girls while I'm not there to slap you for it, okay?"

"Sorry babe," he said. "Anyway he's just totally not into it. I'm a little worried about him."

"Seth I have to go," I said. "Can we talk tomorrow? Please? I'm just really tired."

He sighed. "Okay. Goodnight Sum. I love you."

"Love you." I snapped shut my phone and rolled to my side. He always wanted me to talk. And talking for him somehow always turned into talking about Marissa, or about the almost baby. He wouldn't let me forget.