Winter Longing by Tricia Mills Page A

in PE. That solitary memory softened my attitude toward Jesse even more. Once again, I felt like Spencer was with me, guiding my actions, giving me that memory. If Jesse was making the effort to be nice to me, I should at least attempt to reciprocate.
    “So, um, is the hockey team ready for the season?”
    He seemed startled by the question. “I think so. Guess we better be. We have a scrimmage against Cold Creek on Saturday.”
    I shifted in my seat. “Good luck.”
    He wiped his hands on a napkin before tossing it on his tray. Then he fixed his eyes on me as he fiddled with his straw. “You should come.”
    It was sweet of him to ask, but I highly doubted I’d be up for any social outings anytime soon. He should know that. Still, something compelled me not to reject his suggestion entirely. “Maybe.”
    He nodded. There was that look of understanding again. The crazy idea that Jesse and I might become real friends startled me.
    Jesse placed his hand atop mine on the table. My whole body froze, and my breathing halted.
    “No pressure.” He gave my hand a little squeeze. “Well, I’ve got to run to the library.” He stood to his full height, a few inches over six feet, and grabbed his tray. “The scrimmage is at six if you decide to come.”
    I pried my gaze away from the scarred tabletop up to his eyes. “Okay.”
    After he walked away, I noticed a few people giving me curious stares. Let them look. Their guesses were as good as mine. Maybe Jesse was just a decent person, and I’d never made the effort to notice.
    For all his love of books, Spencer wasn’t a fan of Shakespeare. So his look of distaste wasn’t a surprise when he read the Shakespeare quote the two of us had been assigned to dissect in our ninth-grade English class. He handed it to me so I could read it.
    “My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
    My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
    The more I have, for both are infinite.”
    —Romeo and Juliet

CHAPTER 8
     
    By the end of the day, I was totally wrung out. All I wanted to do was go home, curl up in my bed, and sleep for twelve or fourteen hours straight. If I was sleeping, I didn’t have to think about Spencer’s absence, Jesse’s odd behavior, or Lindsay avoiding me. It was the perfect escape.
    I spotted Lindsay at her locker, hurriedly shoving books into her backpack. Was she trying to get away before I saw her? I’d been sharp with her, and worst of all, I hadn’t acknowledged her own pain about Spencer. Sometimes it felt as if I didn’t have control of my own body or the words and emotions that spilled out of my mouth. Still, she should understand that, right?
    “Linds? ”
    Her shoulders stiffened.
    Maybe because of the stress, my anger flared more violently than usual. But I bit down on it as much as I could. “Where were you at lunch today?”
    “Busy.”
    “Busy, where?”
    She spun toward me, her eyes piercing. “Why do you care?” she asked too loudly, drawing the attention of those around us. “You haven’t cared how I feel, or how anyone else feels, for the past week.”
    I staggered back. “That’s not fair! ” But a voice inside my head acknowledged the truth of Lindsay’s words. Still, I couldn’t force myself to agree out loud. How could anyone be hurting as much as I was?
    “It’s not fair I lost a best friend, either. It’s not fair that Mr. and Mrs. Isaacs lost their only child. It’s not fair that Sam’s wife lost her husband. None of it is fair!”
    She slammed her locker loud enough that it echoed over all the post-school noise in the halls. Then she headed for the door. I stood frozen in place, stunned, until she was halfway to the exit.
    “Lindsay, wait.” I hurried to her side, grabbing her arm. “Come on, let’s talk.”
    She jerked away from me. “I have to get to work.”
    “Work?”
    Lindsay ignored my question. I gripped her arm more firmly this time and pulled her to a stop. That’s when I saw the shine of tears in her