Snowed In
wasn’t.”
    50
    “That doesn’t sound like you.”
    “I wasn’t awake yet.”
    It was a lame excuse. I knew it. Mom knew it.
    “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to apologize,” she said, moving away from the counter.
    That’s what worried me. Seeing him again, trying to figure out what to say. I never had a problem figuring out what to say to guys. This was so weird, so unlike me. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it had killed off some brain cells.
    “I noticed it snowing last night. I guess I need to shovel the snow off the walk.” Mom gave me another wry grin. “No. Josh already did it. See? Nice guy.”
    Totally nice guy. Maybe too nice.
    My instincts were sending out some sort of warning.
    Too bad it was sending it out in a secret code that I couldn’t decipher.
    Shortly after lunch our stuff arrived on a wagon with runners. A burly guy who didn’t even bother wearing a jacket carted all the boxes into the house.
    In my bedroom two hours later, I had half a dozen boxes opened, trying to figure out where to put things so they looked right . But nothing really 51
    looked right here yet.
    I didn’t want to duplicate my room back in Texas, but I wanted to feel like this room was truly mine. It was just so different from what I’d had before, though. As much as I loved it, I wanted some of my former life to fit. As much as I’d wanted this adventure, I hadn’t expected to miss the familiar so much.
    And it didn’t make the unpacking go any quicker because I kept staring off into space and thinking about Josh Wynter. Maybe I could convince him that he’d met my evil twin or something.
    “Hiya!”
    I jerked back to the present. I was on the bed arranging various stuffed animals I’d collected over the years. Nathalie stood in the doorway, two girls beside her.
    “Your mom said we could come on up,” she said.
    “Oh, great. I was just”—I slid off the bed—
    “trying to figure out where to put things.”
    “These are my best friends.” Nathalie left it at that, like maybe they were nameless, or she couldn’t remember their names.
    “I’m Shanna,” one girl said. Her hair—the color of the charcoal briquettes my dad used in his 52
    grill back home—hung thick and straight past her shoulders. “And this is Corey.”
    I couldn’t tell much about Corey. Her hair was all stuffed beneath her knitted red cap, but based on her fair features I thought she was probably blond. Then again, maybe she had dark hair and was only sun-deprived. I wasn’t familiar enough with this world yet to make assumptions.
    “I told them all about you,” Nathalie said.
    “Like what, exactly?”
    “Oh, you know, like you’re from Texas, but you don’t have a drawl. You’re my new best friend—”
    I was? That was a nice thing to say.
    “—and that you have the most totally awesome bedroom. And of course, they wanted to see it, so here we are!”
    “Yeah,” Shanna said. “Nathalie said maybe we could have a sleepover sometime.”
    “That’d be great.” And I realized I actually thought it would be.
    “Oh, and I told them that you don’t have a boyfriend.”
    “The island is not the place to be if you don’t have a boyfriend,” Corey said.
    “Do you have boyfriends?” I asked.
    “Oh, yeah,” Corey said.
    53
    I didn’t want to have to explain my stance on not getting serious yet, so I just said, “Well, I am going out with a guy—“
    “Yeah, I heard,” Corey said. “My brother.”
    “Chase is your brother?”
    “Yeah.” She walked to the rounded window and looked out. “I can see only a small portion of the lake from my room because of the row of houses in front of us. I have to turn my head at an awkward angle and cross my eyes to see between the houses.”
    “Sorry ’bout that,” I said, figuring I was living in the row of houses in front of her.
    “She’s just messing with you,” Shanna said.
    “So she can see the lake?” I asked.
    “No, but she doesn’t care about a view. I

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