The Shuddering

head.
    “Don’t,” she’d whispered. “What if she sees you?”
    Jane had nearly rolled her eyes at the suggestion. So what? she thought. Let her see. Jane wasn’t the one making a ton of noise in the middle of the night, waking everyone up. But Lauren was right. If Jane had been caught eavesdropping, it would have caused even more drama. And yet, long after the argument had subsided, nearly an hour after Lauren had fallen asleep, Jane remained wide awake, contemplating tiptoeing down the hall and pressing her ear to the very last door. She imagined sneaking downstairs to find Sawyer sitting in a dark living room, staring out the large picture window that overlooked the mountains and trees. He’d turn to look at her when he heard her approach, they’d stare at each other for a long while—breathless, silent—and then his face would brighten like the moon lighting up the night.
    But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t will herself to feel good about the anger she’d heard from down the hall. Lauren would have reprimanded her for being so “nice,” so “fair,” but Jane couldn’t help it. Nobody liked being in the middle of an argument, especially not when it was on display for everyone tohear. She was sure Sawyer was miserable, embarrassed, uncomfortable, and there was nothing about that that made her happy. Her incessant thoughts had afforded her a little over three hours of sleep, but the host wasn’t allowed to sleep in. She had breakfast to make; she was sure the boys would be itching to go back up the mountain.
    Sitting up, she grabbed her discarded socks off the floor and pulled them onto her feet. She shivered against the cold, rubbing her arms as she made her way toward the window for her first look at the world. She paused to pull a sweater over her head, her fingers snagging in the tangles of her slept-in hair, and then she blinked at the view. There wasn’t a speck of green as far as the eye could see. It had snowed overnight, and it had snowed hard.
    A childlike thrill speared her heart as she rushed across the carpet to the bedroom door, opening it quietly despite her excitement, not wanting to wake her friend. She took the stairs two by two, skidded to a stop in the hall, and marched into the kitchen without a thought to her appearance. Despite her love for the summer, a fresh coat of snow always left her excited. And she pictured her and Ryan building a giant snowman on the porch just outside the kitchen door.
    Her wide smile faltered before it altogether disappeared as she rounded the corner. Sawyer stood at that very door, his back to her, looking out onto fresh powder. He held a steaming mug between his hands, and there were a couple of backpacks at his feet. It looked like he was contemplating an exit despite still being in his pajamas, just out of bed, his hair a mess. He eventually turned to offer her a tired smile. A moment later he looked away.
    “Remember the winter break when we got stuck up here?” he asked. “Your dad was so pissed.”
    Jane frowned at his tone. She could hear it in his voice; something was wrong. Stepping across the kitchen to the coffeemaker,she poured herself a cup. The coat of snow on the deck’s railing was at least six inches thick. She looked back to him and his bags.
    “Something happen?” she asked. She hated the way his shoulders slouched. They had had a great time the day before, and now he was standing there, wounded, looking out onto the landscape, apparently yearning for escape.
    “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I guess you could say that.”
    “What?” Jane asked, her question almost a whisper.
    Sawyer shook his head. “I fucked up.” He shrugged, took another drink. “Nothing new.”
    She pressed her lips into a tight line, trying to refrain from a full-fledged interrogation, but it was hard. Her curiosity had kept her up half the night, and now it was back with a vengeance, but there was more to it than that. The bags at his feet turned her stomach. She didn’t care what April did, but Sawyer couldn’t leave. This was their last visit up here, none of them sure when they’d be able to get together again next. After this, the cabin would be gone forever. After this, Ryan would pack his own bags and offer her his usual salute and toothy ready-for-adventure grin before giving her a hug and walking into an airport terminal. Her heart quickened at the idea of it—losing this final opportunity to be together, losing her