Alex: I’m so sorry about last night, I was wasted. Can you forgive me?
Michael: You don’t need to apologize.
Alex: No, seriously, I’m sorry. Can we just forget everything?
I watch the screen, waiting for his reply. Apprehension squeezes my gut as the little dots appear, then disappear, then appear again. After what feels like forever, his reply comes through.
Michael: Fine.
I exhale in relief. Thank God, I haven’t destroyed our friendship with my crazy antics.
Alex: Cool. Is it still okay to get a ride to the cabin tomorrow?
Michael: I’ll pick you up at 7 a.m.
True to his word, Michael pulls up outside the building at seven sharp in an old, beat-up 4x4 truck. He leaps out, taking the front steps two at a time.
“Hey!” I grin as he enters the lobby.
“Hey,” he says, not meeting my gaze. He grabs my bags, heading straight back out onto the street, and I feel my smile slip as I follow him out. Then he dumps my bags on the back seat and opens my door, not saying anything.
“Thanks,” I mumble, hopping in.
We don’t speak as we weave through the streets, out of the Village and up along the Hudson River towards the George Washington Bridge. When I sneak a glance at him, his line of sight is fixed on the road, his brow furrowed slightly. Something seems a bit off with him, but I’m not sure what. Well, it is early. Maybe he hasn’t had his coffee yet.
I twist in my seat to gaze back at the city as we cross the bridge. I see the Empire State Building and Chrysler Building silhouetted against the slate-gray sky, and a smile slides onto my lips. I still can’t believe I live in this city—the city I’d dreamed of for years, the city I’d seen in movies, that always felt more like a dream than a real place. And now, I call this city home.
With a happy sigh, I sit back and stare ahead through the windshield. “Thanks for letting me tag along,” I say after a while.
Michael grunts and I look at him with a frown. Jeez, what is going on with him today?
He glances at me and I smile, hoping it might somehow make him lighten up, but the V between his brows deepens and his gaze cuts back to the road.
Bloody hell, he’s in a bad mood. I haven’t seen this guy for a while. This is Starbucks Michael, Halloween Michael—the first Michael I knew. I wonder why he’s back all of a sudden?
“Um, is everything okay?”
He looks at me again and sighs. “Yeah. Fine.”
I study him for a second, then cross my arms and turn to stare out the window at the gloomy sky. Dark clouds are gathering fast, which seems to match Michael’s mood perfectly. This is going to be a long trip.
I don’t know how long I sleep for, but when I wake the first thing I notice is that everything is white. Like, everything.
Michael is leaning forward in his seat, squinting his eyes to make out the road as we inch along.
I sit up, taking in the frosty surroundings. “It’s snowing,” I say in wonder.
Michael grunts. “Yes.”
“Are we nearly there?”
“Yes.”
I can barely see five feet out the window. I glance at Michael, worried. “Are you okay? Can you see?”
“Enough.”
“It’s a lot of snow,” I murmur, snuggling into my seat. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. I’ve never been in so much snow and don’t know the first thing about it. I can’t even build a fire. I’ll probably freeze to death in his cabin and Michael will have to tell people how pathetic I was. I shiver at the thought.
“I thought it would pass,” he says, concentrating on the road. “But it seems to be getting worse.”
“Should we be driving in this?”
“You want to sleep in the car?” he snaps. “We’ll freeze to death.”
I shrink down in my seat. “Sorry.”
He glances at me, softening a little. “I hate driving in this weather. We’re nearly there.”
I try to figure out where we are, but I can hardly see anything beyond the white. Eventually, we pull up a driveway and through the frosty haze I can just make out a log cabin.
“Okay, stay here.”
“You want me to freeze to death?” I joke, but Michael doesn’t laugh.
“I’m going to clear some of the snow so we can get in.” He jumps out of the car and I see him battling with a shovel to clear the path to the doorway. After a few minutes he comes back to the car and grabs my bags, then comes back to grab some groceries we stopped for on the way. Finally, he opens my door and tells me to follow him. I step out into the snowy wonderland, my breath coming out in a cloud around me. It’s like a scene from a fairy tale: snow-flakes falling in front of a log cabin surrounded by trees.
Wow.
“Alex! Get in here!”
I walk carefully, my boots sinking into the snow as I make my way up the path. Michael closes the door behind me and I peel my coat off, taking in my surroundings. It’s a typical log cabin, with the big round log walls, high peaked ceilings, stone fireplace, and a big, worn sofa with two armchairs. To the right is a small kitchen with wooden cabinetry and simple wooden bench tops. Several doors lead off the living room.
“Okay, I’ll show you around and explain everything before I head off.”
I turn to Michael, concerned. “You’re going back out again, into that?” I gesture to the window and the white abyss beyond.
He shrugs, slipping his hands into his jeans pockets. “I said you could have the place to yourself.”
“You also said you hate driving in this weather.”
He stares at
