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even retreat to my room in peace when I got home.
    “The Kerrs invited us over for dinner,” Mom said when she stopped by my room on her way in from work.
    “I’m really tired.”
    She leaned against the doorway to my room. “I know it’s hard right now, but it’s good for you to get out of this room and talk to people.”
    “I was in school all day. I talked to people.”
    Mom watched me for a moment. “I heard you and Lindsay had a disagreement.”
    “We talked. We’re fine.” At least I hoped we were. But I didn’t want to go into details with my mom. It was between Lindsay and me.
    She watched me for a couple of moments. “Just remember, I’m here if you want to talk.”
    “I know.”
    I went to the Kerrs’ for dinner. It ended up being easier to just ride the tide than to try to get out of it. Easy, at least until I saw Jesse. It didn’t matter that he said I shouldn’t be embarrassed about what happened Saturday. I still was.
    “Hey,” he said when he came down the stairs. His dark hair, wet from a recent shower, hung to the tops of his shoulders.
    “Hey.” Despite our lunch conversation, I could barely meet his eyes. Now I understood more why Lindsay hated to have anyone see her raw, vulnerable side.
    All throughout the meal, I couldn’t shake the sense that the topics of conversation were being carefully chosen to avoid any hint of Spencer and the crash. It all felt so . . . wrong. Like it was way too soon to try to move beyond what had happened.
    I forced myself to stay in my dining room chair as Jesse helped his stepmom serve dessert. Carrot cake—Spencer’s favorite.
    “Excuse me,” I said, as I shoved my chair back and headed for the bathroom.
    I’d barely closed the door behind me before the first wave of nausea hit me. I wrapped my arms around my middle and sank onto the side of the tub.
    Someone knocked on the door. “Winter, honey, are you okay?” Mom asked.
    I forced my voice to sound upbeat. “Yeah, be out in a minute.”
    I propped my elbows on my knees and let my head drop into my upturned hands. A warm touch on my shoulder caused me to jerk upright, expecting to see that Mom had slipped quietly into the bathroom.
    But no one was there. A chill replaced the warmth of a moment before. I needed to go get some rest.
    Not wanting to arouse sympathy, I took several deep breaths and splashed cold water on my face. When I was finished, I opened the door quietly. I expected Mom to be standing outside waiting for me, but instead I heard her and Mrs. Kerr talking in the kitchen.
    As I passed the door to the garage, I noticed Jesse throwing darts. I could sneak out and go home, go back into the dining room to face the adults, or slip into the garage with Jesse. Though going home was ideal, I knew it would just cause my parents to worry.
    Jesse turned slightly at my entrance, and I dreaded the inevitable question.
    He held up a dart. “You play?”
    That wasn’t the question.
    “Pretty sure the last time I threw a dart was at the spring festival when I was about ten.”
    He shrugged. “It’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget.”
    “Yeah, but I wasn’t very good then.”
    He walked toward me and handed me a dart. “You can’t be that bad.”
    Hoping to get my mind off, well, everything, I took the dart, aimed, and threw. And missed the dartboard by a good foot.
    “So I was wrong. You are that bad.”
    If it wasn’t already so hard to just make it through a day without breaking to pieces, I probably would have laughed. I really was terrible.
    “Told you.”
    “Hold it like this.” He held up a dart, pointing it forward between his thumb and first two fingers.
    I tried to imitate his method and let another dart fly. This one came closer to the board but had less force. It stuck pitifully in the surrounding corkboard for a couple of seconds before falling out.
    Jesse struggled to hide a smile.
    “I think I’ll go home now.”
    He stepped toward me with his arm extended.