Lake Thirteen by Greg Herren

her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine,” I said, wishing she would just go away and leave me alone. I wanted to ask her to leave, to walk away, but I knew she would think it was weird, and that would make her only want to stay there all the more.
    She’d always been my favorite when we were younger, and when she’d morphed from the girl with the braids who hung on my every word and whose face always lit up with joy whenever she saw me to the bored teenaged girl fascinated by makeup, clothes, and the latest teen idol, I’d been more than a little sad. Every summer I hoped she’d be excited to see me, the way she’d been when we were younger, but this year, like the past four or five, she’d just nodded at me after my parents hugged her and went back to playing with her phone, twirling a lock of her hair around her index finger.
    So, of course, now that I wanted to be left alone, she couldn’t catch a clue.
    I heard her gasp. “He was so young!”
    Go away, I thought, closing my eyes and willing her to go join the others.
    I sensed her kneel down beside me. “Oh my God, he has the same birthday as you…he was the same age as you.” She inhaled sharply. “That’s just weird. ”
    I resisted the urge to tell her to go away, to leave me alone the way she had for the last five years. We aren’t friends anymore, you’ve made that clear, I wanted to say, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
    The cold got worse on my back, it was like—it was almost like someone had opened a freezer door directly behind me, and all that foggy cold air was brushing against my back. All the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up again—I could see the goose bumps rising on my forearms, and the back of my head was cold.
    “Oh my God, look at your arms.” Rachel grabbed hold of my left arm, and her hand felt warm and damp on my skin. “Goose bumps! And you’re freezing!” There was a catch in her voice I recognized as fear. I turned my head to look at her, and in the faint light where we were kneeling, I could see her face had drained of color.
    She’s really afraid, I thought in wonder, so why aren’t I?
    The only thing I’d felt was the sadness, and I realized as the cold on my back was getting more intense that the sadness was starting to fade away…it was still there, I was aware of it, but there was something more there…
    But I couldn’t experience whatever it was as long as she was there.
    I had to make her leave.
    And as soon as I thought it, a sound from the far end of the cemetery startled us both.
    Rachel stood up. “I better go see what they’re doing. If Carson kills himself I’ll get the blame.” She smiled hesitantly down at me. “Maybe you should go wait for us in the car.”
    “I’ll be fine.” Just go already! I stood up to reassure her, and she looked up into my eyes quizzically, touching my arms again.
    “It’s so weird, how cold your arms are.” She shook her head again, like she was trying to figure it out for a moment before giving it up.
    I watched her go, and the sadness began to turn to elation.
    Yes! I exulted, joy and excitement rushing through me quickly, electricity that made the tips of my fingers and toes tingle—
    —and just as quickly, it was gone.
    The others were coming back up the road now, talking excitedly amongst themselves in low voices. Carson grinned. “You should have come down with us, bud! It was exciting!” He pushed his glasses back up his nose as he reached out and grabbed my arms. “Rachel said you had an experience up here, though.” Carson’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head sideways as he peered at me. “Your arms are cold…” He looked down at the headstone. “Interesting. Do you still feel the cold?”
    “Not as much,” I admitted, and it was true. It was like that freezer door behind me had been closed.
    And as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I felt it again—a horribly sad coldness