Sean came up and his skates sprayed me with ice shavings as he came to a stylish stop right in front of me. Conor, of course, was already there, and Bear was running in circles around me and barking, to attract even more attention.

Conor took one of my arms, while Sean took the other to help me to my feet. “Hey, Kirsten! You okay?” Sean asked.

“Oh, yeah. Fine,” I said as I brushed a little snow off my jeans.

“You’re okay? You sure?” Conor asked, touching my elbow.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I know they both talked to me for a few minutes after that, but the next five minutes were actually sort of a blur. More guys showed up to play, and I stood there watching the game for a while, but then I realized not only was I cold, my head was starting to hurt from where I’d whacked it on the ice, and I didn’t really care about hockey right now, or who won or lost the game.

As I was walking home, Conor pulled up beside me in that old pickup of his. “Kirsten? You want a ride?” he asked.

“I’m almost there,” I said.

“Well, actually…you’re not quite there. You’re a little off course. I’ve been looking all over for you for the past twenty minutes.”

“Oh.” No wonder Bear had been trying to drag me in the other direction. He knew the way back to Gretchen’s better than I did.

Conor got out of the truck and he was still in his hockey gear, all his pads. He had socks on but no shoes, and his goalie mask was sitting on the dashboard.

“Don’t you have to get back to the game?” I asked as he helped me into the passenger seat. Bear hopped onto my lap, which wasn’t exactly an easy fit. He weighs about eighty pounds. If my head wasn’t hurting, my legs would soon.

“No. I mean, the guys might think so, but it’s not that important to me right now. I’m kind of more worried about you,” Conor said.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“I don’t know if you are,” he said. “Anyway I have a history of ditching, so people pretty much expect it of me at this point.” He smiled as he pulled into our driveway.

Bear and I got out of the truck and I pulled the house keys out of my pocket. I unlocked the front door and walked into the house. Conor was following right behind me.

“So are you really feeling okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I have a headache, but…”

“I’m kind of worried you might have a concussion,” he said. “Maybe I should take you to the doctor.”

“What? Are you crazy?” I asked. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Well, I don’t want to leave you here alone,” he said.

“Gretchen’s around here somewhere. She hardly ever leaves. Unless I want to leave, and then she’s gone, history, see you,” I muttered.

“Gretchen!” Conor called around the house, and his deep voice startled me.

“Where is Gretchen?” I muttered. “Oh, yeah. Brett’s at a friend’s house, and Gretchen went out with her friends. She said she’d be back late. Ish.”

“Ish? Do you feel nauseous?” he asked. “Should I get you to the bathroom—grab a trashcan?”

“No. Late-ish, she said.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “Okay, well, why don’t you sit on the sofa. I’ll get you a glass of water.” He turned on the fireplace and went to the kitchen.

“So. Your name and date of birth are?” he asked as he returned.

“Come on, I’m not that out of it.” I watched the flames dance in the fake fireplace.

“Still. Just tell me,” Conor urged. “And drink some of this.” He handed me the water glass.

“Kirsten. And I’m a Virgo.” I took a sip of the ice cold water and shivered. “Couldn’t you bring me room-temp water at least? You make a terrible nurse.”

Conor frowned. “Okay. You seem coherent. You definitely seem like yourself. Are you sleepy at all?” Conor asked, crouching down in front of me.

I shook my head. “No.”

“You didn’t seem like you suffered a loss of consciousness…. Then again, you weren’t exactly sure where you were when I picked you up.” Conor gazed into my eyes. “But that happened the other night, too, when you were coming home after going sledding, and you didn’t hit your head then. Or did you?”

“Do you have to insult me while I’m sitting here feeling a major headache coming on?” I grabbed my purse, which I’d left on the sofa earlier that day. “Which reminds me, I have some ibuprofen in here.”

“Don’t take anything yet. Hold on. I’m trying to remember all the things I should check,” Conor said, tapping his fingers against my knees.

“Check?” I asked.

“For a concussion. Okay, a couple more things. Are you vomiting? No, you’re not. Okay, I have to check your pupils,” he said. “First I want to make sure they’re both dilated the same amount—the same width. Look at me.”

He was leaning close to me, staring into my eyes, when the front door flew open. We jumped back as Sean rushed in, panting and out of breath.

“I’m making sure she didn’t hit her head too hard. Ruling out a concussion,” Conor said.

“What are you, a doctor? You don’t know anything about that!” Sean said.

“Yes, I do,” Conor said. “Who do you think got a concussion once? Not you—me.”

Was it me, or was this competition a little insane, when it came down to arguing over who had the most skull fractures?

“You’re full of it.” Sean sat on the sofa beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. “How are you feeling?” He gave me a little squeeze. “You okay?”

Conor pulled the fleece throw over my legs.

“You can go now,” Sean said.

“I want to make sure she’s okay,” Conor said.

“I’ll look after her,” Sean said. He got up and followed Conor to the door. I could hear them arguing, but I was starting to get a headache, so I just leaned back against the pillows and relaxed. The door closed, and I assumed Conor was gone.

“How’s it going?” Sean asked.

I wasn’t sure if I was still seeing things. There was a hazy light. “Hey,” I said.

“You okay? Really?”

“Yeah, well. I should probably borrow Brett’s helmet next time I try to take Bear down to the rink.”

“Ouch.”

“But other than that, I’m fine.”

“Good.” He took off his hat and rubbed his head, making his hair do that cute static-y thing. “I kind of have some bad news for you, though. Something I forgot to tell you.”

“What. You can’t go skiing that weekend?” I sat up so quickly that I did actually feel dizzy for a moment or two.

“What weekend?”

“Sean!” I threw the fleece blanket toward him. “I told you a hundred times, Groundhog Day weekend—”

“I know, I know! Sorry. I just forgot for a second there.”

“You did check to see if you can come. Right?”

He nodded, handing the blanket back to me. “But I have to tell you I’m not completely sure yet. Because Coach keeps changing our schedule around, and we might have this game scheduled with a college JV team that day, but hopefully not. Anyway, the bad news I had to tell you is that…I’m not going to see you anymore—”

“What?” How much bad news did he expect me to take in one sitting?

“This week,” he finished the sentence. “I’m going away for four or five days, to North Dakota for a hockey camp thing and a tournament. We’re leaving tomorrow, actually.”

“Oh. Is that all?” I leaned back on the pillows with a contented sigh. He still wasn’t completely sure about the Groundhog Getaway, but what was more important, really? The fact he was here with me now, or the fact I could bring him to meet all my friends?

Wait a second. That was a tough call.

Sean smiled and snuggled close to me on the sofa. “So I’ll see you when I get back. It should be a couple days before the Snow Ball,” he said.

“Speaking of which. What should I wear?” I asked.

“You know that habit you have of not wearing enough clothes or layers? Go with that.” He grinned at me.

“Okay, but I’m not wearing the Snow White costume,” I replied.