The drive was painfully awkward, on a level that jumping out of a moving vehicle seemed like a viable option. We hit a traffic snarl halfway there that added another hour and half to our trip, and then we hit a snow squall. After our little argument, Kyler had turned up the radio, leaving it on the hard rock station the whole way. Yep. He wasn’t in a better mood.

Sometimes I don’t even know how we’re friends.

Ouch.

This wasn’t the first time Kyler and I had bitched each other out, but usually we weren’t stuck in a car together immediately afterward. I couldn’t even lick my wounds in private.

About an hour out from Snowshoe, we stopped at a gas station to fill up. As he headed into the store to grab munchies, I checked in with Andrea.

“Where you guys at?” I asked, staring at my uneven thumbnail.

Andrea’s voice was muffled and then, “We’re stuck outside of Frederick. We hit this huge-ass snowstorm. It’s totally snowing us down. Ha. Did you get that—hey! Shut up, Tanner. It was funny. Tell him it was funny, Sydney.”

“It was funny,” I replied. “Back to the snow—is it a part of the nor’easter? Has it changed paths?”

“Looks like it.” She paused. “We might have to pull over soon and wait it out, so we’re going to be late.”

Late? More time alone with Kyler. Great. I wanted to bang my head off the dashboard.

“What’s going on with you?” Andrea asked. “It’s the start of winter break, our senior year, and you sound like someone ran over your cat and then laid it on your bed.”

Ew. I made a face. I had such weird friends. “I don’t know. Kyler and I kind of got into an argument earlier, so it hasn’t been a fun ride.”

Andrea laughed. “You guys argue all the time.”

“This was different.”

There was a pause and then her voice was real low. “Was that girl with him when you went over to his place this morning?”

I cringed, knowing Tanner and whoever else was in the car could most definitely hear the conversation.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “He’s such a sleazeball sometimes. You—”

“It’s all right, Andrea.” I peeked out the window. “Hey, he’s heading back. Call me when you guys know when you’re getting closer. Be careful.”

“You, too.”

Kyler hopped in, shaking the fine dusting of snow out of his hair. Then he reached into his plastic bag and pulled out a ginger ale—my favorite—and handed it over.

“Thank you,” I said.

He grumbled something incoherent.