“Sorry they brought you back, Jer.” My words kind of mushed all together, I was so relaxed and sleepy now.

“Whatever. I was done. Just get some rest,” he said.

The rest of the afternoon I spent in and out of sleep. I think I started to drink my hot chocolate about four different times, but I never made it very far. Each time I woke up, there was a fresh cup there. Dad and Kathy camped out on one of the other couches reading, and every once in a while when I woke up, one of them was hovering over me, just watching. At some point, Dad came into view with his cell phone in his hand.

“Hey, chicken, can you talk?” he asked, handing me the phone.

“Hello?”

“Mom!” It was so good to hear her voice.

“Oh honey, are you okay?”

“Mom, don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“That’s what your father said, but I just wanted to hear it from you.”

“I am, Mom. I am.”

“You know he called me first thing. It was so nice of him. And I was thinking I hadn’t talked to you in a while but I didn’t want to bug you on your honeymoon — I mean, their honeymoon, but … ah, I miss you, Sam,” she said quietly now.

“Yeah, Mom. I miss you, too.” She sounded so lonely.

“Okay,” said Mom, back to her cheerful patter. “It’s just a few days. I’ll see you soon. You get some rest now, you hear?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“I’m serious. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.” That’s what Mom always says when she wants you to do something right away, like wash the dishes or take out the garbage. It’s from the game Monopoly.

“Got it,” I said, smiling.

“I love you, chicken.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

I handed the phone back to Dad.

“I guess I should’ve asked you before I called her, but I knew she would want to know. Sorry, kiddo,” he said.

“No, I’m glad you did. It was good to hear her voice.”

“Yeah, yeah, it was,” said Dad. And I realized how lucky I was that they were still friends. That they really did try to keep us a family somehow.

Just then, Eric came in with another cup of cocoa.

“Hey!” he said. “I didn’t know you were up. You look a lot better.”

“Doesn’t she?” said Dad.

Then they both just stood there, looking at me. So I said, “What did I miss?”

“Nothin’,” said Eric. “Oh, actually, you got a phone message.”

“Huh?”

“Let me see if I got this right.” He cleared his throat, then started again in a sugary singsong: “Please tell Sam that it was tote hilare hangin’ out with her and I hope she gets better soon. And we have to stay in touch. I think it’d be super-fun to be PPs because nobody does that anymore. Okay, toodles!”

Dad gave him a small round of applause.

“Wait — PPs?” I asked.

“Pen pals?” Eric shrugged. “She gave me her address, too.”

“Right.”

And now I saw that the lamp next to me was on, and the room had softened into a bluish gray. There were a bunch of guests from the inn crowded into the lobby, and some heading into the dining room, too.

“Hey, is it happy hour already?” I asked, sitting up.

“Yeah, but I don’t suggest that you drink right now,” Dad said, smiling.

“Thanks, Dad. No, I meant, sorry I’m still in the middle of everything.”

“No worries,” said Eric.

“Oh, yay! You’re up!” Kathy came in then, with two cocktails in her hands. She handed one to Dad. Her cheeks were really flushed, and she looked like she was swaying a little.

“To Sam!” she said, raising her glass. And then her eyes got big and watery. “We’re really, really grateful that you’re okay,” she said. Her voice was trembling. She looked down quickly.

“Hey, thanks,” I said. I looked down, too.

But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eric slip out of the room.

My favorite moment of any movie is when everything goes dark, just before the first image, and the music begins. It’s only a breath — less than a second, but it always sends shivers up my spine.

After dinner, Phil and Eric had rearranged the living room for Classic Movie Night. They put the couches in a semicircle and pulled out a big screen. The first one was going to be Hitchcock’s North by Northwest. The second one was going to be something about snow. I was planning on being asleep by then, anyway. Everyone settled into their spots. It seemed like it was mostly couples except for me — Dad and Kathy, Dara and Stevie D., a couple of other twosomes I’d seen at breakfast. Jeremy was upstairs watching some heavyweight fight. And then there was me, tucked into a corner of one of the armchairs. That was okay. I wasn’t in the mood for cuddling, except for maybe a couch pillow. But just as I was sinking back, letting my eyes grow heavy again, I felt a vibrating in my sweatshirt pocket. My cell phone. I must’ve looked like a frog, jumping in my seat. The couple next to me jumped, too.

The caller ID said PHEEBS. Should I take it? I didn’t know what I had to say to her. I didn’t really want to tell her about my concussion or the Drew saga and I certainly didn’t want to hear about how important our friendship was.

The call went to voice mail, and I saw that I had eight missed calls. All from her. The phone started vibrating again. I could just see her waiting on the other end, twisting a red curl around her finger. Ugh. What was there to talk about?

C’mon, Levy. She was your best friend just a few days ago.

Weren’t near-death experiences supposed to make you more humble and forgiving? What about clunks on the head? Before I could think about it too much, I wrapped a blanket around myself, put on my slippers, and crept toward the back of the room.

“You okay?” whispered Dad. Kathy was asleep on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. Just getting some air,” I whispered back.

I made it outside just as she was calling a third time.

“Hey, Phoebe.”

“Sam! Wow! I didn’t think that I would get you! I just — I just was trying in case — wow. I didn’t know if you would pick up. Or if you wanted to talk or — am I interrupting you?” She was breathing so loud it felt like a tornado in my ear.

“No.”

“It’s really good to hear your voice! How are you? How’s everything?”

“Good.” Maybe I wasn’t ready to have this conversation after all. I still felt so angry.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothin’.”

“You go skiing?”

“Yup.”

“Was it cold?”

“Yup.”

“How cold?”

This was stupid.

“Listen, Phoebe. I really don’t feel like talking to you but I picked up because I thought I should, but unless you have anything to say — no, actually I don’t want to hear anything you have to say right now, so why are you calling?” My head was throbbing now and my jaw felt stiff and sore.

“I just wanted to know how you were, Sam. I mean, I don’t want to talk about this stuff until you get home. I mean, it’s over. But the point is, how are you?”

“Fine,” I said blandly.

“But, really, I know things were hard with Kathy and then you said things were weird with Drew last time, and I just wanted to know what was up.” She really was trying. I had to give her credit for that.

“Well, Kathy is still Kathy, and Drew and I broke up.”

“You did? Why? What happened?!”

“Listen, Phoebe, I don’t know if I feel comfortable talking to you about this right now. I mean, we wanted different things. He only reads magazines. He said I talked too much. He really just wanted to get down my pants.”

Then there was a few minutes of us just listening to each other breathe.

Until Phoebe said, “I’m sorry, Sam. I really am.”