The Night She Disappeared by April Henry

kicks off his own shoes and throws himself into the water. I realize he’s trying to save me.
    But it’s pretty clear Drew is not much of a swimmer. And the current is carrying both of us downstream.
    His head sinks lower, low enough that water goes over his lips. And Drew reacts like someone who’s just stuck his finger in a light socket. He’s rigid and fighting, all at once.
    Then his head goes completely under and he comes up gasping, hyperventilating, just plain freaking out. Little spots of sunshine are dancing on the water, and I realize Drew might die right here, right now. And it will be my fault.
    All I really want to do is curl up in a ball. I’m still so cold. Instead, I swim toward Drew. He keeps sputtering, lifting his head out of the water, looking for me. From my lifeguard training, I remember to approach him from behind, so he can’t climb on top of me in a panic and take me underwater. Only since he can’t see me, he is panicking even more.
    Once I get close to him, I yell, “Don’t grab on to me!”
    He manages to spin around, his expression a weird mixture of fear and relief.
    Then he goes underwater for the second time.
    I snag the back of his shirt and start pulling him in.
    By the time I reach the bank, my body is done. We lie next to each other, half in and half out of the water, panting. I want to pull myself completely onto the bank, but I can’t summon the energy.
    Drew levers himself up on his elbow. “What the hell were you trying to do?” he croaks out, but with each word his voice strengthens. “You almost killed me. Do you realize that? You almost killed me!”
    He shakes my shoulder, and then his hand slips and he’s on top of me. I’m crying and trying to hit him.
    He grabs my wrists and pins me down. I arch my back and try to buck him off. The old-penny taste of blood floods my mouth.
    His face contorts with fear and anger. “Are you crazy?”
    I start to sob, huge sobs that must have been stored up in my chest for the past three days.
    “Maybe I am. It was supposed to be me,” I choke out. “It was supposed to be me.”
    With a groan, Drew throws himself down on the rocks beside me. He looks different with his hair plastered to his skull. More vulnerable.
    “Maybe it was,” he says quietly, “but that’s not how it worked out. It’s not up to you to kill yourself to prove they made a mistake. Kayla wouldn’t want that.”
    My sobs slow down, get spaced further apart, and finally stop.
    “You know what the strangest thing is?” I whisper. “I feel like she’s alive. I’m not talking about her spirit. I’m talking about the real Kayla. It feels like she’s alive.”

The Fourth Day
     
    Drew
     
    GABIE IS CLEARLY a mess. Trying to kill herself, trying to kill me.
    I don’t know what to do or say. And then I start to laugh.
    She levers herself up on one elbow. “Why are you laughing?” Her eyes are narrowed. But one corner of her mouth crooks up like she wants to be let in on the joke. Her hair is tangled.
    “Because I’ve worked with you for what—more than a year?—and I would never have guessed in a million years you would act like that. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one?”
    Her head snaps back like I slapped her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Hey, don’t act all insulted. Everyone knows that your parents are these big-shot doctors. And that you’re always on the honor roll. I’ve seen you work, remember? You follow all of Pete’s rules. You weigh everything. You always use the pusher on the Hobart. You won’t let me turn the closed sign over even two minutes early. You’re the good girl.”
    “That’s just it.” Gabie heaves a shaky sigh. “I feel responsible. If Kayla hadn’t asked to trade with me, it would have been me in that car. Not her.” She turns to look at the water, lapping only inches from us. Her voice is so soft I have to strain to hear. “Me being thrown in the river.”
    “She’s the one who