Chapter 9

For the first time all evening, all

seasoneven, Ned laughs. “Me too.”

* * * *

With his pillow under his coat to keep it dry

and his toothbrush in his back pocket, Ned follows Bobby out into

the storm. Wind whips through the buildings in their complex,

sheering across the sidewalks, flinging ice into Ned’s eyes.

Pulling his hood close around his face, he struggles to get his key

into the lock on his door, bare fingers frigid with the wind and

ice. Just as he’s about to say fuck it—who’s going to steal

anything in weather like this? There’s no one else on campus

anyway—the key turns and he hears the lock click. “Damn,” he

mutters. The word is ripped from his throat and tossed away by the

wind.

Bobby waits a little ways off. As Ned

approaches, stepping cautiously on the thin sheet of ice that’s

formed over the sidewalk, Bobby shouts to be heard over the storm.

“Be careful. It’s slick.”

“I know—” Ned’s foot skids over the ice,