Turning away from the awards, ribbons, and clippings, I picked up my old cell phone off the bed and slipped it into my pocket. I headed downstairs, finding Mom in the kitchen. Dad was still at the office. Some things never changed, including his late nights.

The whole lower floor smelled like apple pie and cinnamon—usually my favorite. Mom looked up from the magazine she was poring over as I dropped into the seat in front of her. “Are you still going out with Andrea tonight?”

Dropping my elbows on the table, I put my chin in my hands. “Yeah, she’s driving up from Frederick and picking me up in a little bit. We’re going to grab dinner.” And I had a feeling she’d be visiting Tanner later, who was home in Smithsburg, about ten minutes away.

“Good.” Mom winked. “I didn’t put enough chicken in the oven to feed you and your father.”

“Nice.”

She laughed softly as she flipped a page. “Has your lip been bothering you?”

“No. It’s fine.” And it practically was. Just a little mark was on it, near the corner, and my jaw didn’t hurt anymore. “I hope you’re not worrying about it.”

“Of course I’m worrying about it. What you went through?” She took a deep breath and closed the magazine. Looking up, she fixed dark eyes on me. “Honey, I—”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” I placed my hands on the kitchen table. “I’m fine. It’s over. In the past.”

“Until the case goes to court,” she reminded me gently.

“He might plead guilty, and then I won’t have to testify or anything.” And God, I really hoped that was the case. “Anyway, if I have to do it, I’ll do it.”

Mom didn’t say anything for a moment as she watched me. I sighed as I sat back, knowing she was about to say something I didn’t want to hear. She had that “Mom” look about her. “Honey,” she started, and my suspicions were confirmed. “I was talking to Mrs. Banks about what happened. You know, she’s the school counselor.”

Oh. Dear. God.

“And she suggested what I thought would be best,” she continued carefully. “I think you should talk to someone about what happened to you.”

“What?” My jaw hit my lap. “You’re kidding, right?”

Mom frowned. “Honey, you’re going to school to be a psychiatrist—”

“Psychologist,” I corrected.

Her frown deepened. “Anyway, you know how important it is for people to talk things out and not hold them in.”

I resisted my urge to roll my eyes. I did know how important that was. And while those moments with Zach had been the scariest in my life—and there were still moments where it haunted me—I didn’t need to talk about it and soak up a therapist’s time that could be better spent helping someone who needed it.

“Mom, I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’m okay. Really, I am. I promise.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Then why have you been moping around this house like someone kicked your puppy into the street?”

I made a face, but my stomach dropped. “That’s real nice, Mom.”

“You know what I mean.”

Tracing the grain in the wood of the tabletop, I shrugged.

“I haven’t been moping around.”

“Yes, you have.” She picked up her cup and stood, taking it over to the sink, where she washed it out before slipping it into the dishwasher. When she finished, she faced me and crossed her arms. “I have never seen you so listless and unhappy this close to Christmas before. So if it wasn’t what happened to you, then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just in a mood or something.”

Mom sighed. “Honey, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything. You’re not too old for that.”

“I know.” But what was bothering me was something I was so not talking to my mom about.

Her lips pursed. “Is it Kyler?”

Ah, there it was. That horrible sinking feeling expanded through me at the mention of his name. My entire body locked up, and a hollow feeling poured into my chest. It was like being punched and knocked down. Kyler. Kyler. Kyler. I’d tried not to think about him since I’d left Snowshoe. That was as easy and fun as playing Frogger on the interstate.

Kyler consumed my thoughts no matter what I did. And the worst part? Two out of the three nights I’d dreamt about him. God, it made me lamer than normal.

But I did know something I’d never really known before.

This was what a broken heart really felt like. Silly me, thinking I knew what it felt like every time I’d seen Kyler with a new chick. That had nothing on this.

I tucked my hair back and decided on, “Why do you think it has to do with Kyler?”

“Well, for starters, I’m not blind.”

My brows rose.

“Kyler hasn’t been here once since you got home. That boy practically lives in this house when you’re home from school. And not once has he stopped by, and that is like the sign of the apocalypse.”

I would’ve laughed at that, but it was true and it made my throat burn.

“I thought it was strange how you left without saying goodbye to him, but I chalked it up to the shock of everything that’d happened.” Mom walked over to the table and sat across from me. “And then there’s the fact that I’m pretty sure he hasn’t even called you.”

Wow. Thanks for reminding me. Not that I believed he’d call. I’d made things pretty clear in Snowshoe, but the fact that he hadn’t called stung like a hornet. And that was stupid, because I wasn’t ready to talk to him, but if I was being honest with myself—which sucked and who wanted to do that?—I knew what I really wanted.

Kyler to come begging and pleading for forgiveness—forgiveness I wasn’t even sure I could give.

“So I’m assuming something happened between you two,” Mom said.

“You know what they say about assuming things…”

Mom’s expression looked like she’d swallowed something sour. “Funny.”

A sigh shuttled through me. I didn’t know what to say or how to begin. What could I tell her? “Mom…”

My phone buzzed with a message from Andrea. She was outside. I flew from the table, relieved. “I got to go. Andrea’s here.”

“Sydney—”

“Mom, I’m okay. Everything is fine with Kyler.” I gave her a quick hug. “Really.”

I darted from the house before Mom could stop me, grabbing my jacket off the back of the couch. Nearly breaking my neck on the iced-over driveway, I joined Andrea in her toasty Honda.

“Hey, girl, hey…” Andrea chirped, studying me in the dim light like I was some kind of science experiment. “You don’t look too busted up.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks, I think.”

She tossed a red curl off her forehead. “I’m glad you don’t. Holy shit, girl, I still can’t believe it. You could’ve died! Or worse.”

I wondered what was worse than dying.

“Or you could’ve ended up on Dateline or something.” She shook her head as she slipped the gear into drive. “Maybe had an episode of Law and Order based on it.”

I laughed then. “You’re nuts.”

“But you love me,” she replied as she coasted into the street. “And I love you. So on a serious note, I want to drive to Snowshoe and stab that asshole in the eyeball.”

“Me, too.”

Andrea flashed me a quick grin. “Where to?”

Since there wasn’t a huge selection around here, I told her to hit Route 11 and head toward 81. “What are you in the mood to eat?”

“Hmm.” She tapped a gloved finger off her chin. “I’m in the mood for…meat.”

“Go figure.”

She smacked my arm. “Whatever.”

I listed our choices and we settled on Outback. The drive was a little slower than usual, with the shoulders of the highway still covered in snow and the wind tossing flurries everywhere.

As we got out of the car, she caught me in a squeeze-worthy hug. “Sorry,” she said, leaning back. “I was really upset when you told me what happened. I don’t know what I’d do…”

“It’s okay. Look, what happened was messed-up to the max, but I’m totally okay.”

She turned away quickly, and I swore she wiped under her eye, but I had to be seeing things, because I had never seen the girl cry. Not even during The Notebook, or those terrible Humane Society commercials that always made me tear up.