“I didn’t undress,” he says.
Amanda has the gall to look disappointed. “Oh, good. I hear a lot of people do that when they’re hyperthermic.” “Hypo,” he mutters.
“I was getting there,” Lucy says, grinning up at him. “Just didn’t have enough time.”
Colin feigns shock, pressing his fingertips to his rounded lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Amanda working up to something. She fills with an inhale, pulling together irritation and outrage and trying to coat it in indifference. “You were there?”
Lucy nods mildly at Amanda and stretches to kiss his jaw. “See you later.”
He waves, cursing Lucy under his breath for leaving him alone with his ex-girlfriend, though he can’t exactly blame her for not wanting to stay. With perfect timing, Amanda’s roommate approaches, wearing a sympathetic smile.
“Hey, Colin,” she says. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” he answers, for the thousandth time today. But this time, he doesn’t mind as much. He’s always liked Liz. He owes her big-time for the damage control she managed after his breakup with Amanda “How are you?”
“Good,” she says simply. And right when Colin expects her to move on, she adds, “I had a cousin who fell through the ice. Up in Newfoundland.”
He nods, disappointed and already disengaged. He’s heard a variation of this story about half as many times today as he’s answered the obligatory “How are you?” What follows will be the predictable: You’re lucky you made it out alive. He was never the same again. She lost her left thumb, had permanent nerve damage in her face.
But he should have known Liz would break the mold. “He was unconscious on the ice for hours and lived.”
“What?” Amanda forgotten, he steps closer to Liz, surprising her so much she steps back into the wall.
“He fell in and managed to climb out, but it was four hours before he was found with no detectable pulse. At least, that’s what they guessed.”
“And he’s a vegetable?”
“No, that’s the weirdest part,” she says, smiling in a strange way that makes his skin hum. “He’s totally fine.”
By the end of the day, Colin is practically vibrating to talk to Lucy. It’s only when he sees her headed toward him and away from a mass of students walking to the trail, bundled up in holiday-themed scarves and hats, that he remembers tonight is the Winter Social.
“Where is everyone going?” Lucy asks once she reaches him, turning to watch the migration.
“The upperclassmen have this evil thing called Winter Social every year before the holiday. Everyone except us townies gets nostalgic and weepy over being separated for two whole weeks. The seniors decorate the overlook above the lake and—” “Our lake?”
He looks down at her and smiles at the possessive bite to her voice. “Yeah. But don’t worry. They don’t venture down to the lake itself. Nobody does,” he adds, hoping she hears the same in his. “They decorate the area on the hill above it and play horrible pop music, and everyone makes out with everyone else and then people start fighting because they’ve snuck in alcohol, so it turns into a giant drama.”
Lucy grins. “Sounds fun.”
“It’s a social at a boarding school. So, basically, you hang out with the same people, just half a mile away from where you usually hang out.”
Ignoring him, she says, “And it’s about time you took me on a date.”
“Trust me, Lucy. It’s not your thing.”
“How would you know?” Her grin turns seductive. “Being near the lake and kissing you sounds like my thing.”
He finds himself unable to argue with that reasoning.
A long path of battery-operated lights line the way to the overlook, and thousands more hang from every possible tree branch, illuminating the dozens of bodies that wave in swarms to the music blaring from four speakers flanking the area. The overlook is outlined with propped-up wreaths of holly, and everything in the surrounding area looks icy blue in the moonlight.
It’s hard to believe how close he is to where it happened, and Colin finds himself looking off into the distance, down the hill to the other side of the lake, where the ice opens up to the blackness below. There’s no way he’ll be able to see it from here, but he imagines the jagged hole surrounded by warning tape, the signs telling everyone to stay away. He wonders what it says about him that he’s not afraid, and rather than fear or dread at the memory of being plunged into the darkness, he feels longing and anticipation, the tease of adrenaline trickling through his veins.
Jay walks up beside them and stretches. “The lake looks so much smaller from up here.”
It feels like the world around them falls silent for a beat before Jay coughs, breaking the tension. Colin turns his attention back to the other students.
“Kiss me, Lucy. We’re under the mistletoe.” Jay makes exaggerated smooching sounds at her, pointing over his head to one of the many branches laden with plastic mistletoe.
Lucy pretends to stretch to kiss Jay’s face, but then runs away, feigning disgust. Colin watches, fascinated, as Jay chases her off down a small hill and she ducks behind a tree, laughing and shrieking when he tries to touch her. Colin has no idea how Jay would react if he felt Lucy’s skin against his, and even more, has no idea how she would react if he managed to actually grab her, but for the moment, she doesn’t seem concerned about it. It’s the first time Colin has ever seen Lucy act her age.
“Having fun?” he says when she returns. He can’t be imagining the pink flush to her cheeks, or the way she seems almost breathless with happiness. He can’t be imagining how substantial she feels when she presses against him, as if a solid girl is forming beneath the fog of her skin.