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They were the last ones back to the house and there was no more hot water. Isabella shivered in the lukewarm spray and told herself the weekend was almost over. Everyone was tired from skiing, and wore sweatpants and pajamas. Isabella came downstairs in jeans and a sweater and felt like an idiot.

They played old college drinking games, and Jocelyn claimed Isabella for her flip-cup team. Isabella was relieved. Skiing was not her thing, but flip cup she was good at. She didn’t even mind that Jocelyn hugged her every time they won. She figured that Jocelyn was trying to make it up to Isabella for sleeping with Harrison. It was sort of nice, in a weird, messed-up way.

Isabella got drunk and happy. These people weren’t all that bad. She dragged Harrison to the middle of the room and danced with him. She was fun! Harrison’s friends would know that now. She made everyone do tequila shots and tried to suggest body shots, but Harrison shut that idea down.

“Time for bed, little lady,” he said, and picked her up over his shoulder. He smacked her behind, and the last thing she remembered was Harrison dropping her on the couch because they were laughing too hard.

The next morning, Isabella woke up with a headache and waited for Harrison to climb down the bunk bed ladder, but he kept sleeping. The other couple in the room got up and got dressed, and Isabella faced the wall and pretended to sleep until they were gone. She lay in her bunk and listened to the sounds of everyone else in the house as they started their day. She heard pots being clanked around, smelled coffee. She heard the television being switched on and cheers for some game.

“Harrison, are you awake?” she whispered to the top bunk.

Isabella could hear half snores coming from above. This wasn’t like Harrison to sleep so late. She slid out of her bunk and peered up at him. He was sleeping on his side with his mouth wide open. He looked like a little boy.

“Harrison,” she said, and poked him on the shoulder. He made a gurgling sound and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but didn’t wake up.

What was she doing here? She had been wondering it all weekend, but now she just wanted to cry. She thought of all the places she could be, with people she knew. Instead she was in a house of strangers. Pieces of the night before came back to her and with each flash, Isabella was more and more mortified. She couldn’t face these people. Harrison probably didn’t even like her anymore.

She climbed up the ladder and sat in the bunk at the edge of Harrison’s feet. She willed him to wake up for seven minutes. Then she lay next to him so that she was closer to the wall. She put her head on his pillow and stared at him. When he finally opened his eyes a few minutes later, he let out a startled scream.

“Isabella, what the hell?” He half sat up and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. When he had calmed himself, he lay back down and crossed his arm over his eyes.

“My head,” he said, “hurts like a motherfucker.”

Isabella laughed. She’d never heard him talk like that. He uncovered his face and smiled at her. “Oh, you like that? You think that’s funny? You can’t be feeling too great yourself, Little Miss Tequila.”

“Don’t say that word,” Isabella warned. The only thing worse than being in a house full of strangers was throwing up in a house full of strangers.

Harrison smiled and closed his eyes again. “I don’t think I can go skiing today,” he said.

“Oh, thank God,” Isabella said. She was so sore from yesterday that it hurt to talk. “Maybe we can go get lunch in town?”

“Isabella, I don’t think I can move right now.”

Harrison never called her Iz or Izzy. It was always Isabella. It was always formal. It made her think of Ben and the way that he would sing to her in the mornings, “Izzy, Isabella,” kissing her stomach until she woke up. Thinking of Ben made her lonely, which wasn’t what she’d expected. She hated Ben. But she knew him, at least. She wouldn’t have to be polite with him if he were here right now.