The warm summer sun soaked into my pale winter skin. The last flood of the younger kids fled the building for the year. However, Leoni and I stood on the hill under the willow. We were in our spot, and I tried not to let myself think about how it might be for the last time.

“Eli?” she asked.

I looked over at her face. Her brown eyes shone. The sunlight streamed through her hair like a halo.

“Yeah?” I responded and shook away my thoughts. This moment I needed to live in.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Your dad’s the one making you move.”

“I know. I just don’t want to leave you.”

There wasn’t anything I might say to make it better. Instead, I let the statement drift away in the warm wind.

“I brought you something,” she said.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a Tupperware container with a single cupcake inside.

“Your birthday is soon. And since I won’t be here, I thought we could celebrate early?”

“I’d like that,” I told her.

She smiled-a bright, quick glimmer that cut through the heavy air between us.

The candle she brought looked green and had already been lit. The match she fought to ignite came from a half-empty box.

“Make a wish,” she said.

When I closed my eyes, I thought about what I wanted most. I pondered her tender smile, all the happy memories we experienced over the school year, and the minute we met last summer.

I wished for her to stay.

As the breath left my lips, blowing out the candle flame, the world seemed to shift around me. Colors began to swirl and blur, and spun the summer scene into something else.

Suddenly, everything stopped. The air grew colder and harsher, and when I opened my eyes, the warm sunlight was gone. The world turned grey.

We stood no longer under the willow tree. Instead, I stared at a concrete wall. We sat on a hard bench, Leoni’s knees pulled to her chest, her eyes glassy. Somehow, we had been transported somewhere else.

“Leoni?” I asked.

She looked almost startled, as if surprised I was there.

“Yeah?” She looked distant. The fluorescent lights made her eye bags sharp, and her hair looked frizzy.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

But her face scrunched at her own lie, and she choked back a sob. “No.”

I did the only thing I could. I put my arm around her shoulder and let her lean on me. Something had gone wrong here.

“I miss him. I just want my dad back.”

For a moment, my heart had stopped beating. I held her a little tighter.

“Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Of course,” I told her, on instinct. “I’ll always be here for you.”

A door further down the hallway opened, and two older people, dressed in all black, stepped out. In the woman’s hands was a cardboard box.

“All done, Leoni. We can head home now.”

Leoni frantically wiped away her tears, trying to seem composed. “Okay, Grandma.”

The woman looked between us for a second. “Is your boyfriend coming home with us?”

“Can he?”

“Of course, sweetheart. As long as it’s alright with his parents.”

My head spun. I had awoken in a weird dream, not knowing what to do about it. I couldn’t move my eyes away from the box in her grandma’s hands.

My eyes landed on a label. A label with her father’s name printed on it. Something in my brain clicked.

Seconds ago, Leoni and I were under our tree. We were saying goodbye, all because her dad wanted to move. Now, there was a box with his name on it. I had wished Leoni would stay, and now the only obstacle had been removed. Her father was dead.

“Eli?” Leoni asked.

I turned to her, the girl I loved. She looked like a new person. Her eyes seemed duller, shoulders slumped. The light that radiated from her seemed dull.

“Huh?”

“Would that be okay?”

“What?”

“If you came back to the house with us?”

“Oh, yeah, of course I’ll go with you.”

Her lips turned upwards into a half smile. But her eyes looked downward. Her hand was icy when she grabbed mine. My lungs didn’t clear when we stepped out of the stale air conditioning. As the summer sun burned, the black button-up shirt Leoni forced me to get for our last choir performance coiled around my neck like a snake.

“We’re kinda neighbors now,” Leoni said, a waver in her voice. “So we can hang out more this summer.”

The words stuck in my throat. Leoni kept hold of my hand even as we climbed into her grandparents’ car.

I watched her stare out the window as the trees passed by. I had a feeling she wasn’t really watching. Her eyes slid over colorful flowers and luscious greenery with no reaction.

By the time we reached her grandparents’ house, I knew what I had to do. I let her lead me to her room. She collapsed in her desk chair as soon as we were through the door.

“I can’t wrap my head around it. It doesn’t feel real.”

“I know what you mean.”

She turned her head away from me to look at a picture on her desk. It was her as a child with both her parents. She never talked about her mom. I didn’t ask because she got this faraway look when I did.

“I’m going to get some water. Do you want some?”

“Yeah,” she said.

I stepped out of the room and down the hallway. The kitchen was empty. I opened each drawer and searched around until I found what I was looking for.

This candle was blue, the last new one in the package. My hands shook, so it took a few tries to use the lighter.

I closed my eyes again, like I had on the hill. In my mind, I saw her as I remembered.

I wished for Leoni to be happy.

When I opened my eyes again, everything felt different. I was back underneath our willow. The summer wind tickled my winter-starved skin, and the distant sounds of kids walking home floated on the breeze. It seemed like I had been away for a lifetime, but the abandoned candle on the ground was still warm. Leoni had already left.

Editor: Lucy Cafiero