It was a beautiful day, I guess—pale blue sky and almost no wind. Up the street, heat waves dripped at the pace of an icicle. The triple-digit air was dry at my nostrils, and though I had only been outside for a second, I was uncomfortable. Inside my brain I wondered if I should turn backwards and search for an expression on his face. But my head refused to turn.

I kept my face forward and acted like I was watching my step. Wouldn’t want to crush the fire ants that I’m so allergic to. Wouldn’t want to hurt God’s creatures. Wouldn’t want to catch my toe on the wooden plank rising from its coffin in the sidewalk. I was wearing sandals, and my toes were tangerine.

I tried the car door, wishing for resistance. “Hey, open the door,” I’d say, finally breaking the silent afternoon. Maybe he wouldn’t hear, so I’d have to get rude. “HEY! Can you unlock—?”

But the car door swung open, without even catching onto the curb. I moved obediently into the backseat.

Around us, the disarray of items suggested loudness. Gatorade bottles tossed aside, having quenched the thirst of a sweaty teenager. Grocery bags stuffed under seats, abandoned for their more valuable contents. A T-shirt thrown off with an “I’ll just change here, make sure nobody’s looking!” and flattened by various bottoms into a makeshift seat cover.

And now the same objects seemed to shake and shimmer before me, screaming in silent anger. “Say something!” they gaped wordlessly. “What is wrong with you?” “What are you waiting for?” The stains on the cup holder coughed to life and then choked again to death with zero volume. Still I kept my lips pressed together, my exterior forever stone, unable to even twitch from my homeostasis. Only the tips of my ears felt hot.

Had you been in the car with us, you probably would have sighed at the AC blowing through the vent. Adjusted the fans, maybe, to blow even harder into your face. But besides the temperature, everything in the car was already too cool for my taste.

I looked at him now, at the back of that prickly head. I thought about that head lowering slightly to give me a hug, and a little about that head depriving itself from sleep to listen to me on the phone. Finally, I considered what that head even meant to me.

I saw that our car was flying through the streets, that every tree passed looked the same, and that our friendship was now fading, withering into nothing but sun and air.