When I woke up, it was still a soft bluish pink in the room. I looked at the clock.

5:48.

I guess that’s what happens when you go to sleep before ten o’clock.

I tried closing my eyes again but it was pointless. I was wide awake. And starving. All right, Levy. Have to make the best of this situation. Start over. Try to be civil to Kathy. Or maybe just ignore her. But first, food.

I crept into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face, then dug through my duffel to find my favorite hoodie sweatshirt and grab my copy of The Catcher in the Rye. It was my favorite book. I had read it about twenty times, but I had finished the other book I bought in Florida and all I had from the airport were trashy magazines about women eating their way to being younger and celebrity couples splitting up. I crept downstairs.

There was already a fire going in the fireplace in the lobby, and there was classical music playing, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I wandered through to what I guessed was the dining room. There were about a dozen tables set, and floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the room. The sun was coming up over the snow-covered peaks, turning everything the most incredible color. It was somewhere between orange and pink and purple and it made the snow gleam.

Phil came out of a swinging door on the other side.

“Whoa! We’ve got an early riser! What can I do for you?”

There were bags under his eyes and the gristle of a new beard growing in, but he still gave a huge smile. His teeth were long and thin, just like the rest of him.

“Oh, I’m fine. I just couldn’t sleep,” I said.

“Well, let me set you up with a cup of coffee, huh? Breakfast will be coming up soon.”

I could hear Mom saying, “Don’t drink coffee. It’ll stunt your growth.”

But I loved the taste of it with just a little whole milk and sugar. Mmm. I was on vacation, right?

“Sure,” I said. “Is it okay to sit here?”

“Sure. Or go sit in front of the fire. I love doing that in the morning,” said Phil, and then he disappeared back through the door. I could hear plates clattering together and the sizzling of a grill. It smelled so good. There was definitely something sweet like muffins baking and maybe even bacon frying. I was so hungry I wanted to eat my shirt.

I went back to the fire and sat down in one of the maroon armchairs. There was a pile of outdoor magazines on the coffee table and a handmade flyer that said KARAOKE MONDAY! 8:30 IN THE LIVING ROOM! SING TO THE STARS! The last time I had done karaoke was in a booth at my cousin’s Bar Mitzvah. I thought I was awesome at the time, singing Madonna’s “Like a Prayer.” Really getting into it, too — belting it out and even dancing. At the end of the night the DJ gave me a tape of myself that said “Daniel’s Rockin’ Bar Mitzvah.” When I got the tape home and listened to it, I was so embarrassed that I swore I would never do it again. I guess that meant another early night for me. Levy the party animal.

I picked up one of the magazines and opened to “Thirty Hidden Treasures of Vermont.” Tried to dive into the pictures of mountains, lakes, and winding trails.

“Are you the one who wanted —” I recognized the voice before I even looked up. It was the guy from outside last night. He held a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, and his mouth was open like he was going to say something else, but he didn’t. He drew his eyebrows together above that long nose and almond-shaped eyes … and now I knew why he looked oddly familiar. He was the boy from those pictures in the study. Phil’s son — Ethan? Evan? He cleared his throat but still didn’t say anything. Then he leaned over and put the mug down on the coffee table.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Yeah, sure. Listen, I probably should’ve introduced myself last night. I’m Eric. I live here with my dad.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said dully.

But he still just stood there.

“And you are …?” he asked.

“Oh, Sam.”

“Hi, Sam. Are you reading that?” he asked, pointing to The Catcher in the Rye on the coffee table.

“Read it.”

“Oh, I love J. D. Salinger. Especially Franny and Zooey. Have you read that one, too?”

“Nope.”

Then I picked up my coffee cup and blew at the puffs of steam, mostly so I would have something to do. Eric took the hint and walked away. So much for starting over, Levy. I guess I’ve never been good about letting go of grudges. Maybe because I’m a Scorpio. My mom said the first time she fed me liverwurst I got so mad I didn’t talk to her for two days. I like to think of myself as principled.

I stirred my coffee. It was milky and sweet, just the way I liked it. And now I heard the swinging door open again, and I could see an older woman in the dining room, carrying a basket that looked like muffins and bagels, then a platter of steaming eggs and one of bacon. My mouth was salivating. It was like that experiment Mr. Keane told us about in Science class, with those dogs and the bell.

As soon as the lady was gone, I made a beeline for the food. Had to close my mouth so I wouldn’t drool all over the table while I piled up my plate with eggs and bacon, a warm carrot muffin with butter, and fresh, juicy cantaloupe. Then I plopped back down in front of the fire and started feasting.

Pretty soon an older couple came down the stairs in matching navy fleece sweatshirts. She had a white fluffy helmet of hair and two circles of rouge on her cheeks. He was bald and had tucked his fleece into his tan corduroys. So cute. I watched them go into the dining room. Another couple came down. They were younger and looked like they were Asian or maybe Hawaiian, both with beautiful black, silky hair. Hers was tied in a ponytail that trailed down her back. Sigh. I wished I could wear a ponytail. Then a little girl came down, leading what must have been her mom, who was still sleepy-eyed and walking kind of lopsided. Still no single males. Nobody even close to my age. So much for Phoebe’s research on West Lake.

A little while later, I heard Dad’s voice in the hall. I looked down at my empty plate, then quickly buried my head back in the magazine. I hadn’t really figured out what I was going to say yet about last night. I guess I should have rehearsed.

“And then we could see what Mount Seneca is like, if we have the energy for it,” Dad was saying. He stopped in front of my chair. “Sam!”

He and Kathy were standing over me now, hands intertwined. Dad was looking straight at me, but Kathy stared at the fire.

“How’d you sleep?” asked Dad.

“Good, good. You?”

“Like a rock.”

Silence. Come on, Levy. Say something nice. But I wasn’t exactly ready to give Kathy a big hug and tell her how happy I was that she was my new stepmom. And she still hadn’t even looked at me yet.

Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “Well, something smells good. You gonna join us this morning?” he asked.

“Already ate,” I said.

“Okeydoke.”

I picked up the magazine again. I didn’t want to see Dad’s face. I could already tell from his voice how disappointed he was.

An hour later I was towel-drying my hair when there was a knock on the door to my room.

“So, we were going to head over to Sugar Peak today,” said Dad, peeking in. “They have downhill, cross-country, and apparently some great instructors.”

“Yeah, I think I’m just gonna hang out here,” I said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m really into my book right now.” I could read Catcher again I guess.

Jeremy came into the doorway. “So, she’s staying here?” he scoffed. “Told you. What are you gonna do, Sam, play solitaire all day?”