Page 32 of Acting Merry
“Yeah,” I say with effort.
“Ice is hard,” he grunts as he gets up, then helps me.
“That it is,” I confirm, rubbing my elbow.
We walk with a little less energy and a lot more caution to the car. The snow that had nearly melted from the driveway earlier has turned into a rink of black ice, and only by a dozen small miracles and gripping onto each other for dear life do we make it to the car without ending up on our already bruised backsides again.
We both put a hand on the shiver-inducing metal of the car for stability, breathing harder than anyone should after taking shuffle-steps for the last three minutes.
We stare at each other for a few seconds likewe made it, but the followup thought for both of us is the same: how will it be to drive on this invisible death-sheet?
“Quick question,” Cole says with forced nonchalance. “On a scale from one to ten, how prepared would you say you are to die tonight?”
I hang my head and laugh wryly, my breath puffing out like thick smoke in the frigid air. I close my eyes for a second, then lift my gaze to his again. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Um”—his mouth turns down at the corners—“no.” He grabs the side mirror with one hand to stabilize himself, then stretches out his foot and grazes it along the driveway. It glides like Cinderella and Prince Charming on the ballroom floor. Weightless. “Okay, it’s a little bad. If the roads are like this, we may as well ignore the steering wheel and brakes.”
“That sounds kind of exciting, though, right?”
“Totally,” he says. “I mean, how many people get to choose the way they die?”
“And how many of them won a major gingerbread house competition just beforehand?”
He points at me likegreat point.
And then we look at each other.
His brows pull together, his eyes gleaming with apology. “Hate to break it to you, Reese’s Pieces, but we’re staying the night.” He says it like he’s delivering the news that Santa’s not real.
“I know.”
It’s the only logical option.
I’m also a whole lot less broken up about it than I should be.
eight
Reese
“Cole,”I say, my teeth chattering. “Tonight was already asking a lot of you after the whole Bree situation, and now…”
He smiles. “And now you’re forever indebted to me. But we’re still well within the limits of my two-date policy.”
“I would never dare violate the policy.”
“The fines are astronomical.”
I look over at the cabin and let out a sigh that’s stifled by my non-functioning lungs. Am I ready to go back in there? To spend more time in the presence of Megan and Brady? Granted, if we leave in the morning, most of that time everyone will be sleeping, but still… this wasn’t the plan.
“Of course,” I say with another shudder of cold, “this isall dependent upon whether we can make it back to the porch without dying.”
“Challenge accepted.” He puts out his arm like he’s Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I take it much more willingly than Elizabeth Bennet.
With enough time and care, we manage the return journey with our pride and bones intact. We make a good team.
A good fake team, at least.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing his arm before Cole opens the door.
