Summer could not imagine a better day. Who cared if it was dead of winter? Who cared that it couldn’t get above forty degrees and hadn’t since the beginning of December? The sun shone. The air smelled crisp and full of pine. The afternoons crackled from fireplaces.

She enjoyed the outdoors like no other day previous as she made her way from Lufkin to Nacogdoches in a series of hitched rides, crossed creeks, and worn-out soles of her shoes. Her plan was to visit each and every townie who’d remained behind for the Christmas holidays. She was bound and determined to smoke out the entire world in contrition for infecting her friends with her crazy behavior of late.

First, she stopped to visit Matt and Kathy, who opened the door rather reluctantly. Katie peeked through the inch allowed between door and frame, eyes just below the chain, still in place.

“Are you alone?” she asked.

Summer nodded.

“Scovak isn’t with you?” called Matt from behind a part in the blinds.

Summer shook her head. Kathy carefully unlatched the chain and opened the door a touch wider. Summer threw a tight embrace around her, then Matt, after which she proudly unfolded a thick bag of dank bud.

“Let’s hit this shit,” she said. She packed a bowl and passed it to the right. She couldn’t help but reckon, sure, they were smiling, but those smiles were skin deep. They had ulterior motives—an agenda—but she couldn’t concentrate on that. She needed to relax. She reached for a second Xanax from the pocket of her favorite corduroys.

“I drove him to the bus stop,” she told them. “I bought him a ticket. Honestly, I didn’t care where that bus went, so long as it was away from here. He fell to his knees and said he was sorry and would I please, please take him back. I’ve done some pretty hard shit in my time, let me tell you—you don’t crisscross the country three times following one of the greatest bands on the planet Earth and not find yourself in a sticky situation or two—but this was the hardest thing I ever done in my life, man.”

“It had to be done,” said Matt.

“He wasn’t right for you,” said Kathy.

Summer smiled and slipped into Kathy’s arms. After a moment, Matt joined them and she felt all the warmth in the world. Love. She felt the waters recede and the universe kneel. Maybe that last pill would do the trick. Maybe she wouldn’t need another for the rest of the day. She could do without. All she had to do was not think about…

Before Jack took him to Houston, a strut had settled into Scovak’s step. He walked through the trailer like a jailhouse rooster. He’d gotten his way. He was going to meet the big dogs. Once again, Jack had cowered to him.

She’d avoided him all that day. Scovak could read minds. Like that time he asked if she was hungry and she said no, but he knew she was so he bought three extra tacos and said if she didn’t eat them, then he’d feed them to the fox who came around out back. He’d known she was lying then and he’d know if he looked in her eyes, so she steered clear.

Except when it was finally time for them to leave and she ran to him, collapsed at his knees, and held onto his ankles for dear life.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded. “Don’t go to Houston.”

“Summer…” Jack stomped his feet at the door.

“I don’t feel so good, Scovie,” she said in her saddest voice. “Why don’t you let Jack go all by himself?”

“I told you, Jazz,” said Scovak, “this is our big chance. This is our shot at the big time. We don’t want to fuck it up, so you need me in there.”

“But—”

Scovak pulled a bagful of blues and yellows and pinks from the pocket of his jeans. He held it shy of her nose.

“I thought you said you didn’t have no—”

“What if I left these with you?” he asked her. “You can hold on to them while me and buddy-ro ride down to Houston. I’ll be back before you know it.”

She’d surprised herself with how fast her hands grabbed that bag. The shame was immediate, but soon deferred. When she returned from fetching a glass of water, both men were gone. No kiss goodbye, no see you later, nothing.

That was the last time she’d seen him.

Summer couldn’t handle thinking about that day or anything else for that matter, so she popped another pill from her pocket. She told again the story of the bus stop and this time, added a little more melodrama. She told it again down at Banita Creek with Mike D and Phillip as they skipped rocks across the glass-topped, chilly waters.

“And he looked me in the eye and told me he loved me and wanted one more chance to make it all better. Said he’d be different and I was the best thing that ever happened to him. You know what I said to him?”

“What did you say?” asked Mike D, passing the joint back to her.

“I told him, ‘See ya never.’” She laughed to herself and waved off the weed. “He thought I was joking at first, but he still had that look on his face when the bus left town. I saw him through the window and you could tell that he got the picture.”

“That’s cold,” said Phillip.

“See ya never,” she repeated, but this time more reverent.

“You could get that put on a t-shirt.”

“He was holding me back,” she said. The boys looked nonplussed, so she added, “I never ever told anybody this in the whole world, so you have to keep it to yourself. You promise?”

Phillip nodded. Mike D shrugged.

“No, you have to promise,” said Summer. She held out her hand, little finger crooked. “Pinkie swear.” They did, so Summer said, “He used to hit me. Call me a whore and stuff like that.”

“Dirty mother—” Mike D’s face contorted as if he’d just smelled something rotten.

“I’d like to get my hands on him,” said Phillip.

“Well, he’s gone now.”

And he was. She had never said such a thing to him. See ya never. Instead, she’d said it to the closed door, long after he’d gone. She said it to the empty bed. She said it to his clothes, which she promptly carried to the woods and burned. She said it to the black onyx pipe he’d stolen from an old friend he’d had. To his cigarette lighter. To all the outdoors, by which she stood at the end of the switchback and screamed it to high heaven.

See ya never.

And if Scovak had any moments of realization, he had them in front of somebody else.

It bothered her, not knowing how it went down. Over and over she told Jack she didn’t want to know, but it was a lie. She wanted to know every detail, every word he’d said, but more than that, she wanted Jack to think her noble and stoic, and didn’t care to appear bloodthirsty or morbid.

But still, she wanted to know.

When first Jack returned, she kept waiting for Scovak to appear in the doorway behind him. To come loping in with tales of insane action and extreme machismo. But all that followed Jack into the Light House trailer was empty space and lots of it. Jack said nothing, instead squeezing into his back bedroom with his damned backpack. He left open the door behind him, as if he wanted her to follow.

“Do I need to say anything?” he had asked her when she entered the room. His back was to her and he wouldn’t turn to face her. “Is there anything you need to hear?”

She thought a long moment. She licked her lips. She tried to sound tough and collected and with it.

“Was it quick?” she asked.

“It didn’t happen while I was there.” Still, Jack did not turn around. “They took him somewhere else. They told him there was something they wanted to discuss privately. You should have seen his eyes light up. The look he cut me… At least they let him go out thinking he was on top.”

“Who was they?”

“You don’t want to know,” said Jack.

She took his word for it. Jack was the smartest person she knew.

See ya never.

She could shake him from her head. She’d shaken Jasmine Atterbury and Stormy Allen and New Orleans and Christy Halifax and Charlottesville and Autumn Sanford. She’d shaken lifetimes. Hell, it wasn’t the first time she’d shaken Scovak and probably wouldn’t be her last.

She took another pill.

And another when she went to see Sammy. She told him all about See ya never and the bus stop and how she couldn’t believe it was finally over.

And when Sammy said maybe she’d been a little rough on Alan Scovak, she thought she might topple over from laughter.

“If you think Scovie didn’t have it coming,” she said, “then you haven’t heard me tell of that one time he raped me.”

“What?”

“I never told you about that?”

“No, man.”

“Yeah. I mean, I been raped so many times that I guess it started to make sense. Lucky thing: mostly I haven’t been awake for it. I just wake up and realize my britches are nowhere to be found. You’d think at least they’d put them back on, in case it got cold overnight.”

“Summer…”

“So when Scovak did it, I actually thought it was kind of sweet. He’d gotten real mad, you know. I don’t remember what did it, or if it was even something I did. He could get real heated. Anyway, he comes into the trailer and for all I know, he’s going to burn it down. He grabs me by the arm and drags me into the kitchen. He bent me over the dinner table and I swear it was like he grew another three hands, or he had help. Next thing I know he’s going at it and I’d taken a couple pills and the room had already gone spinny, so I got sick. I got sick all over the table and this made him angrier so he went harder and I couldn’t tell him to stop or else I’d choke on my own vomit. Isn’t that the saddest thing you ever heard?”

She couldn’t remember what Sammy had to say about that, but it couldn’t have been near as sympathetic as Ellie and her brother and the two boys they’d gone to meet who deep cleaned the dorm rooms during holiday break. They’d smoked some sweet bud, but that wasn’t doing the trick. Summer reached into the pocket of her dirty corduroys, only to find it empty. She turned it out and looked some more. She fell to her knees.

“We’re going to need some more drugs,” she said aloud.

“I know a guy who has a lot of that Old-School Ex,” said Carlos.

“I think we’re plenty fucked up,” said Crunch.

“Where did he come from?”

“I don’t think you understand,” she told him. “I’ve had a really bad weekend. Hell, I’ve had a really bad month.”

“It’s all about to get better,” said Crunch.

She cupped his face with her hand. “When you say it, I believe it. You know why? Because you’re real. You’re a real person.”

Crunch laughed nervously. “You know, I think we’d better call Jack.”

“No,” she said. Her eyes grew big as dinner plates and her face went just as white. “Please don’t call him. Jack will have you killed.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious. You don’t know Jack. Sometimes, I don’t even know Jack.”

“Summer, what are you talking about?”

And they were at Denny’s. There was more than a handful of them, all crammed into the booth in the back, and a too-skinny waitress stood over them. She had blonde hair, like Lindsay, and maybe it was Lindsay, but there was just no way. No way at all, especially since she said in a louder-than-necessary voice that she was calling the police. That this behavior was unacceptable. Summer thought to remind her that she’d seen Lindsay behave in ways that were completely unacceptable and the last person she should call is the police, but she couldn’t say a word because she was laughing too hard.

The bartender at the club refused to serve them, so Summer climbed on top of the bar and kicked over his stack of bar napkins. She upturned his tip jar and shouted, “Make it rain! Make it rain!” until she found herself in the backseat of a car.

“Where are we going?”

“I know where we can get a drink,” said Sammy.

“I loved him,” said Summer, from the floorboard. “I loved the shit out of him. Did I tell you what the last thing I ever said to him was?”

Outside, there was a fire. About eight or nine people sat around it, some staring into the flames, but most staring at Summer. She danced in a circle. She would never tire. She would never give out. She would have danced all night had she not stopped for a split second to look at the fire. She looked at it for over an hour.

When suddenly the flames parted and out walked Jack, unscathed. Choirs of angels. He put a hand to her forehead and all her blood drained to her feet.

“She’s been like this for a while,” said Crunch. “She’s been talking some pretty crazy shit.”

“What did she take?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know.” Crunch looked anywhere but at her. “She said she got a hold of some acid, but that ain’t no acid I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you,” said Jack. He dismissed Crunch with the wave of his hand, then suddenly they were alone. Jack, in all his majesty, bent down low to her and lay both hands on her shoulders. “Summer? Are you okay?”

“I’ve never been better,” she said. “I mean, it was a lance that needed to be boiled. You and me both know it.”

“What do you say we head for home?”

“I don’t want to go there tonight,” she said. She crossed her arms. “I don’t ever want to go there again.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“You said we could go north,” she said. “Somewhere like Wyoming or Montana.”

“Not now,” said Jack. “You know that thing we’ve worked for? We’re finally there. Maybe you just need to take a little break. You’ve earned it.”

“A break?”

“Give your brain time to catch up with the rest of you.”

All around them, the others shuffled like zombies. The fire flickered and popped. She wanted so badly to wash her hands.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she said.

“You need to sleep, Summer,” said Jack. “You’ll feel better in the morning. You always do. Come on, let’s go.”

She leaned over and chucked up her insides. She stood. She doubled over and chucked some more. She saw stars. When her vision cleared, they were in the woods beside the house. Jack held aside her hair while she sicked up what remained.

“You’ve been so good to me,” she panted. “You always have.”

“Crunch is bringing some water.”

“It’s been you and me,” she said. “You always make the tough decisions. I’m glad you are able to do it, because I would never have the stomach for it.”

She laughed as if she’d heard an incredibly funny joke.

“Do you think you can make it to the car?” Jack asked.

“I’ve made some tough decisions too,” she said. “But I can’t handle it as smoothly as you can.”

“This is hardly the—”

She said, “I know you liked Lindsay, but do you think any of this would have happened if I had let you two stay together?”

“I don’t want to talk about her,” he said. He gripped his side and winced. “Besides, you didn’t do nothing. She went crazy. They always go crazy.”

“I mean it, Jack,” she said. “After I done it, I felt like shit. I felt like shit for a long, long time. I couldn’t look at you for days. All laid up and bandaged… If it hadn’t been for Luther, I don’t—”

“Did what, Summer?”

“I want you to know, I felt horrible. It was stupid, but there was—”

“Summer, what did you do?”

Summer looked at him like he was something curious on sale in an antique store.

“I put bath salts in your weed,” she said. “I dosed the both of you with PCP or whatever the hell those people put in those things, I don’t know.” She swallowed and steadied herself with a hand to the ground. “Jack, I don’t feel so good.”

He said nothing she could hear.

“But it’s you and me, which is the way it’s supposed to be,” she said. “Not Scovak. Not Lindsay. Not that redhead back in New Orleans. Remember her? Definitely not her.”

Jack stood. He took her by the arm and yanked her to her feet.

“Hey! Be careful.”

Along came Crunch, holding a keg cup. “Did you still want the water?”

“Fuck off,” growled Jack. He dragged Summer around the side of the house and through the front yard where his car was parked on the street. “Get in.”

She climbed into the seat and when next she opened her eyes, she thought she might be in the Walmart parking lot, then the next time, she found Jack had stuck her with a syringe.

“Jack, wait… What’s that? Wait…”

The world blurred past the windshield, the side window, the back window, the entire car. Everything raced by so fast and they sat on the other end of town, just past Butt Street. She’d been there before. It wasn’t a good part of town, so they should be on the lookout for trouble, but Jack had her, and Jack would protect her, but in the meantime, Jack rolled down the window and tossed out the needle and rolled it back up, which was a good thing because it was cold as a motherfucker out there—real cold—and all the Christmas lights up on the houses, on the streets and all the Santas and reindeer hung from the streetlights downtown. When did they suddenly get downtown? It was getting brighter and even brighter still.

“Where are we going?”

“Shhh,” said Jack.

“Jack…”

“We’re going to ride a roller coaster. You like roller coasters, don’t you?”

She did like roller coasters. She didn’t know if she said it out loud, but suddenly things were white. Bright white. Troublesome bright and white. All around her, white, and she fell into sobs. She held tight to the passenger door handle.

“Jack, where are we?”

“Come, Summer.”

It was so bright. Jack could read her mind, so she didn’t bother to speak aloud. Jack could do anything. One day, back in New Orleans, she saw him fly. He flew and flew and after she told him what she had seen, he denied it up and down. Every once in a while, she would remind him. She would look at him and say, “I saw it. You can deny it all you want but I saw it,” and he would shake his head and say she was crazy. All the time, she was crazy. But she saw him do it, and when he said he didn’t, he got that look like when he’s pulling someone’s leg. That smile on his face, and she knew that he knew that she knew that…

“Where are we, Jackie?”

“Do you know what she took?”

“I have no idea.” Jack shook his head. “This is how I found her.”

“Ma’am? Can you tell us what you’ve taken? What are you on?”

Summer smiled. “I’m on everything. Everything in the whole world.”

Bright light. Dark. Bright light. Dark.

“I’m going to handcuff her to the wheelchair.”

“Is that necessary?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Sir, what is your name?”

Jack wiped his brow with the sleeve of his jacket.

“Sir, we’re going to need you to fill out some paperwork.”

“Jack? Is this a hospital?”

“I don’t know who she is talking to,” said Jack. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“Wheel her in here. We’ll get the doctor to administer some—”

“Jack? Did you take me to a fucking hospital?”

“Ma’am, we’re going to need you to calm down.”

“Jack? Jack, is this a fucking hospital? What are you doing to me? Why are you doing this?”

“Sir, we’re going to need you to step away. Please go to the front desk and fill out the paperwork with the duty nurse.”

“Jack! Don’t you dare—”

“Ma’am, I’m not going to ask you again.”

“Roll up her sleeve.”

Cold hands. Warm hands. Hands burning hell-fire hot.

“My god, she’s filthy.”

“Jack! Jack, you can’t do this to me. I’m sorry, Jack. Jack, I’m so—”

“Summer?”

“She’s having a reaction.”

“Hold her down.”

Hands. Arms. Bright lights. Dark.

“Call Dr. Feltner. Stat.”

“Summer. Look at me.”

“She’s going into cardiac arrest.”

“Bring the crash cart. Goddamn junkie.”

“Jack! Jack!”

The lights got bright and wide. They got brighter. Wider.

“Summer. I want you to look at me.”

“Open her shirt. Do it now.”

“Summer. Take a deep breath and look at me.”

“Who are you?”

“You don’t recognize me?”

“I don’t. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. But you are beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Both Summer’s hands went to her own face. To her cheeks.

“I want you to come with me, Summer.”

“But I don’t know you.”

Yes you do.

“She’s crashing. Everyone clear!”

“What is your name?” she asked.

You know what my name is.

“Clear!”

“Luther?”

He smiled. “Take my hand, Summer.”

“Luther, I’ve missed you.”

“Come.”

And he took her by the hand and led her into the light which blinded them both.