Page 104 of That's Not My Name

“Happy birthday, Lola,” Madison whispers.

My eyes sting again. I watch the flame, knowing exactly what her wish would be if she were here to make another one. It would be a grandiose wish that would cover everyone she loves, forever. So I make the wish for her.

A wish that everyone she loved would be okay.

The breeze blows out the tiny flame and I pretend it was her.

I’m not okay yet, but I’ll survive today. I’ll survive the days to come. Somehow.

Lola’s disappearance left me on the edge of a dark, horrifying cliff. Her death threw me over. But I don’t know what to do with this next part. I somehow have to live a life after Lola. I don’t have a choice.

I’m still here. She’d want me to make the most of it.

Madison’s mom calls for her again, and she sighs. “I’m sorry. We have to drive back. I have tryouts for softball camp in the morning, and we need to stop at the athletic store before it closes, or I’d stay longer—”

I wave her off. “You’ve done more than enough. More than you know.”

She smiles, and I walk her back across the parking lot. She squeezes my arm, like she did outside the cabin, and when I say, “Be careful, okay? I really need you to be okay,” I mean it with everything in me.

Madison’s smile is emotional. “I need you to be okay too.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She nods and climbs into the car with her mom. I wave as Ms. Perkins backs out.

I’m not the least bit surprised to find Autumn and Max parked a few spaces beyond her car. They look guilty, but I wave them over.The three of us sit side by side at the water, Lola’s jacket draped over Autumn’s legs, and we trade stories about her until the sun sinks below the trees. We celebrate the girl we’ll never stop missing. It’s dark when we head back to our cars. Max and Autumn laugh and hold hands on the way to the Liberty. I hang back by the top of the launch and watch them walk away together, imagining what Lola would say right now. Something about them being the cutest. How happy they are. How great our lives are going to be.

I look out at the water one last time. Lola’s cupcake sits on the ramp in the moonlight. The weight on my shoulders slips away a bit. Just enough to finally breathe.

“Happy Birthday, Lola,” I whisper.

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