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shrugged and set the poker on the coffee table. My adrenaline rush was fading fast, and I was starting to feel pretty silly. “I was all alone at the house, and I just felt like coming. What are you doing here? I didn’t even know you were coming back.”
    Conrad was in California now. I hadn’t seen him since he’d transferred the year before. He had some scruff on his face, like he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.
    It looked soft, though, not prickly. He looked tan, too, 40 · jenny han
    which I thought was weird, seeing how it was winter, and then I remembered that he went to school in California, where it was always sunny.
    “My dad sent me a ticket at the last minute. It took us forever to land, because of the snow, so I got here late.
    Since Jere and my dad are still in New York, I figured I’d just come here.” He squinted at me.
    “What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.
    I tried to smooth down the back of my hair—it was all fuzzy from being slept on. Discreetly, I touched the corners of my mouth. Had I been drooling?
    “You have chocolate all over your face.”
    I wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand. “No, I don’t,” I lied. “It’s probably just dirt.”
    Amused, he raised his eyebrows at the near-empty can of chocolate-covered pretzels. “What, did you just put your whole head in it to save time?”
    “Shut it,” I said, but I couldn’t help smiling.
    The only light in the room was from the flickering TV. It was so surreal, being with him like this. A truly random twist of what felt like fate. I shivered and drew my blankets closer to me.
    Taking off his coat, he said, “Want me to start a fire?”
    Right away, I said, “Yes! I couldn’t get it going for some reason.”
    “It takes a special touch,” he said in his arrogant way. I knew by now it was only posturing.
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    It was all so familiar. We had been here before, just like this, only two Christmases ago. So much had happened since then. He had a whole new life now, and so did I.
    Still, in some ways, it was like no time or distance had passed between us. In some ways, it felt the same.
    Maybe he was thinking the same thing, because he said, “It might be too late for a fire. I think I’m just gonna go crash.” Abruptly, he stood up and headed for the staircase. Then he turned back and asked, “Are you sleeping down here?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”
    When he reached the staircase, Conrad stopped and then said, “Merry Christmas, Belly. It’s really good to see you.”
    “You too.”
    The next morning, right when I woke up, I had this funny feeling that he had already left. I don’t know why. I ran over to the stairs to check, and just as I was coming around the banister, I tripped over my pajama pants and fell flat on my back, banging my head along the way.
    I lay there with tears in my eyes, staring up at the ceiling. The pain was unreal. Then Conrad’s head popped up above me. “Are you okay?” he asked, his mouth full of food, cereal probably. He tried to help me sit up, but I waved him off.
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    “Leave me alone,” I mumbled, hoping that if I just blinked fast enough, my tears would dry up.
    “Are you hurt? Can you move?”
    “I thought you were gone,” I said.
    “Nope. Still here.” He knelt down beside me. “Just let me try and lift you up.”
    I shook my head no.
    Conrad got down on the floor next to me, and we both lay there on the wooden floor like we were about to start making snow angels. “How bad does it hurt, on a scale of one to ten? Does it feel like you pulled something?”
    “On a scale of one to ten … it hurts an eleven.”
    “You’re such a baby when it comes to pain,” he said, but he sounded worried.
    “I am not.” I was about to prove him right. Even I could hear how teary I sounded.
    “Hey, that fall you took was no joke. It was just like how animals slip and fall in