“Why are you going to the party with him, when you and I obviously have more in common, and have more fun together?” Conor finally turned away from the window to look at me. “Why don’t you go with me instead?”

I didn’t know what to say. He had a point. Lately whenever I spent time with Conor, I noticed that we had more to talk about, that we never struggled for things to say.

“I’m really flattered,” I said.

“Oh God. That’s the kiss of death,” Conor muttered. “Whenever someone says that, it means, I don’t actually think of you that way.”

“But I can’t…I can’t change things and go to the dance with you,” I said.

“I don’t get it. Why not?”

“Well, first of all, I’d have to break my date with Sean.”

“He’d get over it. Believe me.”

That wasn’t exactly a compliment. “See, uh, we made a deal. Sort of.” This was sounding pathetic; it wasn’t about the fact we had a deal. It was that I was sort of stunned by what Conor just said. Maybe I was more interested in him than Sean. Only what was I supposed to do about it now?

“A deal?” Conor sounded suspicious.

“It’s this big Groundhog Day weekend thing…with my friends—skiing and going to a cabin up north,” I said. “They made me get a date, they insisted I bring someone. I mean, they only want me to be happy and everything—it’s not like if I showed up alone, they wouldn’t let me in the door or something.” I laughed nervously. “So anyway, the day we went to Buck Hill, Sean asked me to the Snow Ball, and I said I’d go with him if he came on this long weekend trip with me—”

“Wait a second. You’re going away with him for a whole weekend? Are you serious?” Conor asked.

I nodded.

“I mean…are you that serious about Sean? I didn’t realize,” Conor said.

“Really?” I asked.

“Well, yeah. If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have been spending so much time with you.”

What did he mean by that? Did he think it was bad manners? Was it? And why hadn’t Sean told him that the two of us were going away? Was he planning to come, or wasn’t he? Wouldn’t he have had to ask permission from his parents, and wouldn’t Conor know about that?

Anyway, was I serious about Sean, like Conor said? Not really, I had to admit. I liked him, but did I see us going out, long-term? I hadn’t gotten that far yet.

“No—see…we are going away for the weekend, but it’s not…like that. I mean, it is like that, but it’s only a little trip,” I said.

Conor shook his head. He looked a little disgusted by me at that moment. “No, you can’t have it both ways. You’re either with him or you’re not. And since you’re going out with him, and then going away for the weekend, I’m thinking you’re with him. I don’t know why you’d want to be, but that’s your problem.” He stepped away from the minivan. “Look, can we go now?”

“Yeah, okay.” I started to walk around to the driver’s door. But instead of getting into the car, Conor followed me around it.

“So what was the plan, exactly?” he said as I opened the door. “You needed a guy for the weekend? Were you comparing us or something?”

“Conor. Please,” I said. “I didn’t have a—a plan. Things just happened.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Things don’t just happen,” he said.

“But they did!” I protested. “Sean and I just sort of…we kept running into each other. And he seemed to like me, and you…you didn’t. I mean, you mocked me half the time, and ignored me the other half.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Conor said. “I’ve been nice to you since day one, since the day you got here.”

I had to shake my head at that. “Wait a second. Wait a second,” I sputtered. “Are you talking about you? Nice to me since day one? Have you listened to yourself lately?”

“What,” Conor said. “What are you talking about, I’m nice.”

“Yeah, now you are. Maybe. But how about the time you called me stupid? No, wait, that was like five times. Maybe if you had been nice to me, like you claim, I wouldn’t even have looked at Sean.”

“Sure you would have,” Conor scoffed. “Every girl does.”

“Okay. Maybe I would have looked.” He had a point there. “But I definitely didn’t sense any interest coming from you.”

“Wh—what? Are you serious? How about when I made your coffee all those times? How about when I always made sure I bagged your groceries?”

I laughed. “But those are your jobs!” I pointed out.

He seemed a little stunned by that news. “Well, how about when I went along sledding that night, and to the mattress race to make sure you were safe with those guys?”

“You didn’t need to come along just to protect me. I can take care of myself!” I said.

“Fine. Then do it,” he said. “And have a really great time spending the weekend with Sean. I don’t know how you could, but—”

“Don’t be like that,” I said. “Okay?”

“Sorry. Apparently I am like that,” Conor said.

We stood there for a second, glaring at each other. “Look. Let’s go. I need to get Brett home, and you probably have to work somewhere—”

“I’ll get home by myself. Thanks but no thanks.” He started to walk away, across the parking lot.

“Conor!” I called after him. “Come on, you live practically next door. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Sorry, that’s just me being me,” he said as he threw up his hands and did his best helpless look.

I sighed. “Come on, please. I don’t know the way.”

“No kidding,” he muttered. “Don’t you think you should learn your way around if you’re going to be here for a few months?”

“I don’t know how long I’m going to be here,” I said. “Maybe not that long.”

“Fine. Get a map then,” Conor said.

“Conor. I promise, it’s the last favor I’ll ever ask you. Could you please show me the way?” I asked.

“All right. Whatever.” He reluctantly trudged back to the minivan and climbed into the passenger seat.

The whole way home, all Conor said to me was, “Right here. Go left. Left. Right.”

Fortunately for Brett, he slept right through it.

I couldn’t tell Conor that in many ways, I actually liked him more than Sean. That I liked the way that lately (at least until just now in the parking lot) he always looked after me, made sure I was doing okay. That he’d come off a little rude and standoffish at first, but that he’d grown on me. That I’d rushed into asking Sean and made a huge error in judgment because of my dumb timeline, because I needed to prove to everyone—including myself—that I could get a great guy.

Which was so superficial, when you got right down to it, that it could almost make me sick. Or else make me Gretchen. Here I was, set up to attend the big dance with Mr. Popular. The Gretchen in me was thrilled; the Kirsten in me would maybe rather take a rain check.

When we got home, I pulled over in front of Conor’s house. He jumped out and slammed the door behind him. “Yeah, it was nice hanging out with you, too!” I called after him as he ran up the walk to his front door.

Fortunately, the windows were closed so he couldn’t hear me.

When I carried the still-sleeping Brett into the house and put him in his crib, Gretchen was nowhere to be found. That was strange.

No more strange than what had just happened with Conor, but still strange.

I was tempted to call my friends right away and ask them what to do, but I had a feeling this was something I’d have to sort out for myself.

That night, I awoke with a start. Something was hitting my bedroom window. At first I thought it was probably sleet, from the sound of it. But after being awake for a minute, I realized it wasn’t sleet—it was rocks. Or pebbles.

Conor! I thought instantly. Maybe it was Conor coming to apologize.

Wait. Coming in the middle of the night didn’t seem like Conor’s style, exactly. Besides, he did sort of hate me right now. I didn’t see him as the kind of person who would smooth things over that quickly; he seemed like the type to hold a grudge for eternity.