“You did? What—what did you say?”
“I told them you were my friend, and that I wanted to tell you the truth about me. That I wanted to tell you what I’ve been keeping secret, who I am in real life.”
“And?” I was breathless.
“And they said that I can’t. That it’s too dangerous.”
He sighed and turned to me. His eyes were a striking blue. I wanted, more than ever, to know if that was their actual color.
“I knew they’d say no, but I wanted to try. I owed it to you to make sure. I want to tell you everything . . . I needed them to remind me why I can’t. Not yet.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, knowing I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding my disappointment.
“But, Lois, I promise you that someday I will. You’ll be the first person I tell.”
I kicked at the ground with my bare foot, and then started to move forward again. “It seems like you’re making an awful lot of assumptions.”
He caught up with me. “You mean that you’ll still be here, waiting to find out. I shouldn’t assume that. But . . . we are friends, aren’t we, Lois?”
“Yes, we are.” I faced him again. “I meant you’re assuming I won’t figure your secret out on my own first.”
He smiled at me. “Want to go help your friends rebuild?”
“Sure,” I said, and offered him my hand. He took it.
And we walked into the violently beautiful sunset together.