Page 80 of The Lodge

He laughs. “Ahhh, yeah, I should have known you meantlet’s stay inwhen you asked me to take you out on the slopes.”

“The weather’s pretty terrible for skiing,” I say, pointing to the lone cloud in the otherwise very blue sky. It’s hard to believe we could be buried in snow by this time tomorrow.

“Soterrible,” he agrees. “How about this: we’ll ski first, and then I’ll make you dinner at your place and we can watch the storm roll in.”

“That sounds amazing,” I say.

A date night at my place with Tyler sounds like exactly what I need. I can picture it perfectly: lights as dim as they can get—fireplace blazing—the smell of herbs and butter and garlic heating up on the stove—a big mug of hot cocoa—his body pressed up against mine, as close as we can get under a fluffy down blanket while the sky outside the panoramic window turns progressively more ominous—Lauren calling—

Lauren. Is calling. Right now.

I texted her yesterday to check in since I hadn’t heard anything after our last call. She insisted things were going okay—but quickly changed the subject when I asked how the conversation had gone with her presumptuous friend.

“So sorry, but I have to take this real quick,” I tell Tyler. “It’s my sister.”

I pick up. “Hello?”

“Okay, please don’t hate me,” Lauren says.

My stomach flips. “What happened?”

“So, I have been looking for a good chance to tell Veronica she can’t stay with me anymore, I swear, but she shuts me down literally every time I try to bring anything up—so I decided to try leaving the museum early again today, alone, and it worked. But it, um, kind of backfired.”

“Backfired how, exactly?”

“She came back to the apartment anyway. I didn’t answer the first time she knocked, or the second. But then she started banging on the door and calling my name, yelling for me to let her in, making this whole scene—and I didn’t want her to get us in trouble by being loud again—so I finally answered the door. Which, it turns out, was a mistake. She asked why I left work without her and why I didn’t come to the door sooner. I tried to be brave, Alix, I really did. I told her she couldn’t stay with me anymore, especially because she has a tendency to be loud and I’m afraid it might get you evicted, and—um—she didn’t take it very well.”

I close my eyes, bracing myself. “What did she do?”

“She got even louder. And, um—she kind of keyed your door. It now says ‘bitch’ on it in gigantic ugly letters.”

“What?”

“I’m so, so sorry—”

“Lauren. This isnotokay.”

“I know! I know. I tried to stop her, but I honestly think she would have scratchedmewith the key if I’d gotten any closer, and I just—I kind of froze. And then I left.”

“Where are you now?”

“Hiding in the corner at a Starbucks.”

“Did she leave, too?”

“I don’t know,” Lauren says. “I left first—I’m kind of afraid to go back.”

I let out a long exhale. This is a mess. At least Lauren’s in a safeplace right now. Everything else, though… I don’t even know where to start.

“She seemed sonicewhen I first met her,” Lauren says ruefully.

“Some people are like that,” I say, thinking of Blake: how charming he seemed on the surface, and how quickly that charm disappeared whenever anyone dared to question or challenge him.

“I don’t know if I can go back to the apartment, Alix. What am I supposed to do if she shows up again?”

“Maybe you can stay with Chloe for the night?” I suggest, knowing that’s far from ideal—and I would have to ask on Lauren’s behalf, since Chloe blocked her days ago.

“I wish I could come stay withyou. I think I made things weird with Chloe when I asked if Veronica could move in with her.”

---