I started to spin and groaned when I was headed down backward, watching the little girl wave. I tried to kick my legs to spin the snowtube and ended up sideways. Jake and Declan must have been steering our big snowtube somehow, because I couldn’t figure out a way to shift around as the world whipped past at a speed that had me panicking. I hit a small mogul and caught air. I held my breath as the snowtube skipped out from under me, and I connected hard with the ground, rolling. I was already at the bottom, and I groaned and then laughed when I realized I wasn’t hurt, so much as shaken. I got to my knees. By the time I was planting one booted foot on the ground to stand, Jake and Declan were hurrying toward me across the field.
“I’m okay!”
Jake started to run. “Watch out!”
Something collided hard with my right side and bounced. I was sent sprawling onto my front again as I watched a teen boy on a tube skid off away from me.
“You okay?” Declan yelled. Jake reached me first and helped me get up on my knees again.
“That was rough.” Jake sounded hopping pissed.
“Good. I’m good,” I said.
Jake bared his teeth and snapped around in the direction the rider who’d hit me had shot off. He marched out into the field. It took me a minute to stand steady with Declan’s help, and once I was upright, I took stock. I was bruised, for sure, but I figured that was it.
“I’m okay. You should go call him off.” I nodded at where Jake was doing his best to loom over the boy using his snowtube as a shield. Jake’s raised voice carried to us, and while I couldn’t tell specifically what he was saying, it was clear he was mad.
“No, that was beyond dangerous. He hit you rather than roll off his tube. Fucking jerkwad.” Declan gave me a friendly side hug. “Let Jake go all guard dog. He doesn’t get the chance much.”
It was so nice that someone cared about me. As we watched Jake wave his hand at the kid, Declan began to snicker, and I joined him.
“Jake, I’m okay!” I called over, and he finally stepped away to rejoin us. We started up the hill together, Declan carrying my tube and the one they’d ridden down on.
Jake caught up with us, panting. “You ride with one of us for the rest of the time. Kids these days are degenerates.” He turned to shoot a narrow-eyed glare over his shoulder at the poor teen, who was resolutely not looking at us. I almost felt bad for him.
“Okay,” I said easily, and nodded as if I had made a good choice and hadn’t just been told what to do, which had Jake chuckling and Declan beaming at both of us.
The afternoon wore on, but we were having so much fun I didn’t care. The sun began to sink, and it was the time of year where it got dark early. I lost track of how many runs we made on the hill, but eventually we collapsed back at the picnic table again, and Jake poured out more hot chocolate. The thermos had been sitting around long enough that the drink was only lukewarm now.
Declan pulled a bottle of water out of the picnic basket and passed it around. “Drink this, too. You probably can’t tell, but you still sweat in the cold like this. Guys dehydrate at the rink if they don’t pay attention.”
Jake rolled his eyes but drank a few gulps of water, then passed the bottle to me. I took a long swallow, then chugged half the bottle as my thirst hit. They both laughed.
My phone vibrated in my jeans pocket, and I handed the bottle back to Declan. I did a little dance to unzip my coat and the snow pants. I missed the call, but my phone started vibrating again, and I finally pulled it out of my pocket with a triumphal “aha!” that had Jake snickering. Declan was too busy pushing the bottle of water toward him again.
Panicked because I’d taken so long—what if it’s my parents?—I answered without checking the screen. “Hello?”
“When are you going to come get the rest of your shit?” Miranda’s cold voice was like a bucket of ice water on my head.
“Are you okay, Logan?” Jake leaned over and touched my arm.
I nodded absently. “Uh, I took all of my stuff when I left. You kind of demanded it? I’m not sure what you’re talking about?”
Miranda sighed like I was stupid. “What about this terrible fucking couch of yours?”
I blinked around, confused, the way I usually was when she spoke to me these days. “You bought that.” I frowned. “Didn’t you?”
“Come get it,” she snapped.
My hand convulsed on the phone. We hadn’t spoken in a week and she was really calling to yell about a couch? “Am I in a doomsday timeline I don’t know about? If you don’t want it, donate it. What does it matter who it belongs to?” I made sure not to remind her it was hers again because that would only lead to all hell breaking loose. Irritation built up and my head throbbed with a budding migraine. I turned away from the guys, sitting with my back facing them as my face flushed warm with humiliation.
“I am not doing that. It’s yours, you’re trashing it.”
I hunched over to hide from a gust of frosty wind that snaked through my open gear. “Anything else?”
“I have all this other crap that was left in our lockbox.” Her tone was smug, and I froze.
“You mean my birth certificate and Grandad’s wedding ring?”
