Food options are limited. Very limited. No one has lived here since I departed for Scholenberg, but I finally find a packet of ramen and a bag of chips. Dinner of champions, right here. I make my meager meal and then raid the liquor cabinet. I drench a few ice cubes with a generous splash of gin and settle on the couch. The alcohol burns a harsh trail down my esophagus and settles in my stomach as I stare at the black screen of the television.

The buzzing of my phone distracts me from the fascinating task of studying a blank screen.

“Hey,” I answer, balancing the bowl of ramen on my knee as I tuck the phone between my ear and shoulder.

“You answered! It’s a miracle!” Hallie exclaims.

“Do you know what a miracle is? I answer all the time.”

“I’ve talked to you once in the past week.”

“Fine. Half the time,” I reply.

“You’re back at Lancaster?” Hallie asks.

“Mm-hmm,” I respond, taking a sip of soup.

“Did you unpack?” She sounds like a mom, and for once it doesn’t bother me. She cares, and maybe that’s something I should learn to cherish, not make fun of.

But I keep that thought to myself as I snort and answer, “Of course not.”

“Headed out to party instead?” she teases.

I glance down at my sad meal and damp tank top. “Hardly anyone is back yet, Hallie.” I don’t mention the fact that I was, in fact, invited to one.

“You could always come back home for a few days,” she suggests. “I haven’t seen you in months!”

“I’ll be back for the wedding,” I answer. “I’ve got an intense training schedule right now. It’s best I stay here and use Lancaster’s facility.”

Hallie sighs, and I know what she’s thinking. All Saylor cares about is soccer. “All right. Well, I’ll let you go. I’m sure you must be tired. It’s the middle of the night in Germany, right?”

“Right,” I confirm.

“Are you all right?” Hallie asks. “You sound weird.”

“I’m fine. Just… tired. Like you said.”

“Okay. Bye, sis,” Hallie says, and the phone clicks.

“Bye,” I whisper.

And then I sink deeper into the cushions and resume staring at the living room until I feel myself start to drift toward unconsciousness.

* * *

Cressida, Anne, and Emma all return to Lancaster on Saturday. Cressida arrives first, and I haul my butt off the couch to greet her, abandoning the mystery I was reading. That’s all I’ve done for the past six days: work out and lie on the couch.

Well, that and get wasted with the boys’ soccer team last night.

“Saylor!” she squeals, wrapping me up in a hug.

“Cress!” I squeeze her back.

She pulls back to study my face. “I swear, you get prettier every year. It’s so unfair.”