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like you’d just gone to bed five minutes ago.
    This is exactly how I woke up on Sunday morning.
    That and there was the sound of metal scraping against ice and concrete. The sun was beaming through my bedroom window, so I glanced at my clock radio, it was quarter to eight. I stretched and climbed out of bed and then stretched again for good measure. The shoveling was loud enough to make me think for half a second that Mom had already gone outside to get a start on things, so I shuffled to my window and gazed down at our driveway to see that it had been scraped clean right down to the cement.
    God love him, it was Marcus.
    And Mom wanted me to dump a guy who volunteers to shovel your driveway after a serious blast of snow? Maybe she’d reconsider at the prospect of free household labour.
    He waved a gloved hand at me and I raised my hand to wave back when I realized that Marcus had just seen me at my absolute, one hundred-percent worst. I snatched the drapes closed, then checked in my mirror and recoiled in horror at what I’d just exposed poor Marcus to. God, his eyes were probably bleeding thanks to me. I threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and then raced downstairs, all the while buttoning up my jeans. When I got to the front door I skidded to a halt as Mom handed me my winter coat.
    â€œDon’t you dare take Marcus near that boy who was attacked,” she warned. “Say your good mornings and be done with it. You have work to do.”
    I slipped my feet into my boots and threw on my coat. “Ugh, you didn’t even stick your head out the door to thank him? What the hell is wrong with you, Mom?”
    She made a big show of rolling her eyes. “Marcus volunteered and shoveling the driveway is your job.”
    I slipped into my gloves and snorted, “Fine. I’ll talk to Mike on my own. But first Marcus and I will head over to McD’s so I can at least fill him in.”
    I didn’t give Mom any time to respond and I stepped outside into the cold. “Come on, Marcus,” I said firmly as I tucked my rat’s nest of hair underneath my toque. “You shoveled so now I’ll buy you breakfast.”
    â€œYeah, but I gotta do the sidewalk to the back of the house,” he said, leaning on the shovel.
    â€œI’ll do it later,” I said. “I need to get moving. Lots to do today.”
    He placed the shovel against the garage door and followed me up the driveway. I’d been out of bed for less than ten minutes, my boyfriend had seen me with bed head, bed face and in my pyjamas no less.
    He caught up to me and slipped his gloved hand in mine. “The look on your face tells me that what happened to Mike Olsen is pretty big.”
    I nodded as I ploughed through a snowdrift. “Huge… Look, we need to talk about stuff. Serious stuff. Let’s head to McD’s – my treat.”

 
    CHAPTER 6
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    We went into McDonald’s near the Southland C-Train station and I handed Marcus a twenty dollar bill. I asked him to order me the biggest coffee they had on the menu along with an Egg McMuffin, and I didn’t care that it was probably dripping in grease. He returned a few minutes later carrying a tray, his face a mask of worry.
    â€œHere we go. Nothing beats fast food on a Sunday morning,” he said trying to lighten things up a bit.
    â€œOur encounter with Mike Olsen is part of something very big and very bad,” I finally said as I flipped open the lid on my coffee. I took a tentative sip.
    He nodded. “And what about the serious talk we’re supposed to have? Am I in trouble? Because you should know that it’s totally bad karma to rip into a person who just voluntarily shoveled your driveway after a big-ass dump of snow.”
    I shook my head. “No, but this is a dangerous new world I’ve entered into – from the moment I slapped on this copper band.”
    He arched an eyebrow. “I see. And