“The question is,” Carly says as I collect my bag from under the seat, “are we tough enough to do this in January?”

I laugh. “I will if you will.” My cheeks are dry and hot, my eyelids heavy.

“If there isn’t ice,” Carly says, “I think we’ll have to.”

She hugs me before I get out of the car, and waits for me to unlock the front door, flashing her lights before she drives away.

I climb the stairs, avoiding the squeaky spots, and open the door to Adam’s apartment, pulling the handle up as I push in to keep it from creaking. I shed my clothes in the bathroom and wrap my hair in a towel so I won’t get Adam’s pillows wet.

He wakes up when I climb into bed. “You smell like a campfire,” he says.

“We had a campfire,” I say.

He wraps his arms around me, and he is so warm, and my eyes are so tired, and when I close them I can still picture the water lapping at the shore, and the way we were wild. Nothing about me feels wrong.

— Chapter 28 —

I have the day off, so I go to Wegmans to get food for Christmas. My ears are still waterlogged from the lake and ringing from the concert. It makes everything a little surreal.

There’s a list to follow. Adam and I planned meals for the whole weekend over breakfast.

“Sweet potatoes!” I shouted.

“Marshmallows or no marshmallows?” Adam asked.

“Duh,” I said, laughing.

Adam wrote marshmallows on the list. “How do you feel about cranberry sauce?”

“I could take it or leave it.”

“I like the kind that comes out shaped like the can.”

“Write it down!”

I grab all of it—every last thing we want. Adam never lets me pay for anything, but I’ve been saving for our feast. Adam promised Billy he’d help with the Christmas Eve rush at the tree farm, and his plan was to pick up groceries on the way home. I swiped the list from his messenger bag when he was in the shower and when I get home I’ll call him at Billy’s to say it’s already done.