CHAPTER 3
Chevonne
I must have dozedoff for a while because I woke up shivering from a vivid dream. One of the kind you didn’t want to leave. I’d been in a long yellow dress, dancing on a stage to a full orchestra, looking into the deep blue eyes of Brevin Masterson, my high school crush and Beast to my Beauty in our school’s production of the musical.
I thought of Brevin often. Mostly because Tina reminded me every time we saw his name on a real estate sign how much of an asshole he’d been to stand me up on the only date we ever made. Though that still made me sad, I’d all but forgiven him. Tina, not so much.
As I emerged reluctantly from the spotlight and the stage and the handsome young man who’d held me in his arms, I realized my hands and feet were numb. I had a crick in my neck and the feeling that something was crawling down the back of it. Leaning forward, I slapped at my back only to find wetness—snow had made its way down the trunk of the tree somehow and meltedthrough my hoodie’s hood and down my back. Great. Now I was coldandwet.
I peered out as best I could from under my shelter. Everything looked dull in the fading afternoon light. My backpack, which I could barely glimpse under the new weight of the snow on the pine branches, was now just a lump amidst a drift. I rolled up onto my knees to crawl out and clear the snow off my pack and found I couldn’t do it. Where I thought only my feet were numb, my knees were too. I sat back down and rubbed my legs to get the circulation going again, not stopping until I felt an aching tingle. It was uncomfortable, but if someone went by and didn’t stop when they saw my backpack, I might never get back down the hill. God, I was pathetic.
Then I remembered the branch I’d found just for this purpose. Brain fog, I realized, was a thing and I was experiencing it. The idea that I should shuffle down the hill on my bum flashed through my mind again, but I wasn’t far gone enough yet to attempt something that stupid.
I wrapped my stiff fingers around the branch and found I could no longer lift it. Not that it was too heavy, exactly, but my coordination wasn’t there. After a minute of trying to force it, I gave up and sat back, defeated.
No, Chevonne, you can’t let yourself give up. That way lies death on the side of a hill.
“Just keep going, just keep going,” I murmured to myself and got up onto my knees, successfully this time. I crawled out on wobbly legs and arms to brush off my backpack. Outside my shelter, the carpet of snow was about eighteen inches deep, and it didn’t look like it was letting up. Realizing clearing the snow off would do no good—in fifteen minutes my bag would be completely buried again—I dug it out of the snow and plopped it back on top. I wondered if Ishouldcrawl down the hill. I took atentative shuffle past my backpack and my arms collapsed under me, landing me in the snow face first. It was so soft and fluffy.
I’ll just rest here for a bit …
I tried to take a deep breath to sigh and inhaled a wet, cold substance that thankfully alerted me I was about to drown in snow. Enough adrenaline shot through me to get me back above the surface. I had to get back into my shelter before the adrenaline wore off.
Just as I was turning to crawl under the tree, a movement down the trail caught my attention.
I opened my mouth to call out, but what if it was a wild animal? A wolf or a bear looking for shelter from the storm? I crawled back to my spot as quickly as I could, whether to claim it or just to have something solid at my back, I wasn’t sure. But I felt safer there, even knowing that if an animal came along, it would be able to sniff me out.
Looking up, I checked to see where the lowest branch was, to see if I could climb the tree. Especially when a large white animal came into view. Were there polar bears here? No, but maybe it was a wolf covered in snow.
I backed up and squished my body against the tree, trying to make myself as small as possible, and managed to pick up my branch. Maybe I could defend myself with it for a minute before the beast ate me. The animal came sniffing around the perimeter of my tree, and I stifled a sob. It wasn’t until it crawled underneath the branches that I realized I was safe.
“Princess!” I yelled, holding out my arms for a hug. “You came back.”
“So definitely not Cujo, then,” came a male voice.
Then a bearded face appeared at the entrance to my shelter. The man froze, staring at me before he said, “Chevonne? Is that you?”
CHAPTER 4
Brevin
It had beenyears since I last saw Chevonne, but to say I hadn’t thought of her since high school would be a gross understatement. I’d even looked her up on social media, but I hadn’t had the balls to reach out after the way I treated her. Considering how many times I kissed her on the stage in the school musical, I could have at least talked to her between performances. But I’d been too busy with my friends. Or those I thought were my friends, at least. I hadn’t kept in touch with any of them.
So my first impression that she wasn’t glad to see me was hardly a surprise. But as I crawled under the shelter of the tree, I realized there was much more going on.
“I’m hallucinating,” she said, squinting at me.
I took off my hat, but that didn’t seem to help. “Brevin. Masterson,” I said.
She squinted some more then shook her head. “You can’t be. I must be hallucinating.” She took off her gloves and reached for a branch, picked it up, and poked me with it. Then she lostinterest and turned back to the dog sitting patiently at her side, probably waiting to rescue her.
“Are you hurt?” I asked. It was then I noticed how much she was shivering.
“You’re still here.” Chevonne locked her gaze on my face and studied me for a moment. “How can it be you?”
“I live down the hill, on the lake. Your dog found me and guided me up here. Are you hurt?” I repeated.
“My ankle. I twisted it.” She wiggled her left leg.
