I squint at them, feeling a wave of homesickness roll over me. In the darkness, the houses look warm and bright. One bears an evergreen tree wrapped in glittering white lights. Another has tiny glimmers illuminating each window. Electric candles, if I had to guess.

Someone is in those houses tonight. I might be able to get there, running across the field. I could hide in the trees behind the restrooms. Wait for the others to leave and then sprint across the field. Knock on doors until one opens. And then hope that someone has mercy on the strange, bedraggled girl showing up at their house after dark on Christmas Eve.

I shake myself. I am not pounding on a stranger’s door over a case of the heebie-jeebies.

I head for the building and use the bathroom quickly, surprised that both Harper and Kayla are still in their stalls when I’m at the sink washing my hands. I move fast, rinsing off the pink soap with water so cold it burns my fingers. With the water off, there is nothing but the buzz of the yellow-tinged light over the sink. My breath steams in front of my face.

Footsteps shuffle in one of the stalls. Someone sniffs.

Crying?

Maybe I should ask, but I don’t. Something in me keeps me from saying a word.

Outside the restroom, a wide, flannel-covered chest looms into view. I stop short with a gasp, thinking instantly of the man in the baseball cap. But it’s Josh. Just Josh.

He leans on one crutch, his jaw tense. Almost angry.

“Sorry,” I say. “You scared me.”

He doesn’t answer and he won’t look at me. He looks lost in his own mind. Or maybe like he’s working out a tough math problem. Maybe we’re all getting a little nerved out.

The bathroom door bangs behind me, and I turn to see Harper walking toward us. It seems to startle Josh into moving, too. He shuffles toward the bathroom with his squeaky, stilted guy-on-crutches gait—clink, thump, clink, thump.

Harper’s eyes stay on the sidewalk, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

Everyone is acting weird. And maybe this isn’t just the heebie-jeebies. Maybe I need to pay attention. My eyes dart to the houses again, the yellow lights flickering in rectangle windows.

It’s not that far.

The thought twists thin roots into my mind. The field isn’t that large. I could run through the snow. The only one here is Harper, and my gut tells me she wouldn’t chase me. Not in that skirt. She’d call after me and wait for the others. I walk faster without really deciding to do so, and then I’m at the end of the sidewalk. In the parking lot. At the SUV. And walking right past it.

“Where are you going?” Harper asks when I’m near the rear bumper.

“I…”