John sighed, grabbing his pillow and smothering it over his face. “First class was all they had left,” he said, his voice muffled into the pillow. “So yeah, I used Mom and Dad’s credit card. And Heath Carter is not that bad. At least we know he’s STD free.”

That pissed me off to no end. I slugged John on his leg. As hard as I could, too.

“Ouch,” he said, yanking the pillow away from his face. “What was that for?”

“You like to act like you’re not as close-minded as everyone else we know from Mom and Dad’s world. But you know what?” I harshly whispered at him. “You’re still one of ‘them’—still just as judgmental and entitled and conceited as ever. On the outside you don’t look like you belong, but on the inside you fit right in with the rest of them. A sheep in a wolf’s clothing—that’s what you are.”

“That’s bullshit.” He said the words, but his voice hardly sounded convincing anymore. I’d struck a chord. A big one. Everything in life John did was a testament against his old life. His hair, his piercing, his tattoos—all were meant as a big ‘fuck you’ to the world we’d come from. I could tell it bothered him immensely that I was questioning his whole identity.

“Then give Rhett a chance,” I pleaded. “People change. You changed—or at least I used to think so. Is it so hard to believe that he might have changed too? The only thing you have against him is his promiscuous past. Other than that, what else do you even know about him? Nothing. I think it’s safe to say I know his character a little better than you. And he has a good character. And if you’re saying that he can’t change his manwhore ways…then you’re saying I’m not worth changing for. Is that what you’re saying, John?”

“Jesus, Sydney,” my brother groaned, pushing the button to sit his seat back in the upright position. “You should be a fucking lawyer. Fine. I will give him a chance.”

“A real chance?”

“Yes.”

“And you won’t try to set me up with Heath Carter?” This shiver ran up my spine. Seriously, Heath Carter was about the last guy on earth I’d ever consider.

“I won’t set you up with Heath Carter,” he repeated. “Now can you apologize for calling me one of them? I am not one of them. That was harsh.”

“Sorry,” I told him. “You’re not one of them…most days.”

John laughed and I knew we were fine. We were brother and sister—we’d perfected the ability to fight and make-up many years ago. I also knew John would give Rhett something of a chance now. He wasn’t the type to back out on his word. But the problem was…I’d said a couple things to Rhett I shouldn’t have said before leaving him in that hotel room. My whole ‘how can I love someone that my brother hates so much’ statement had been a bitchy thing to say and it was already haunting me. What if I’d screwed everything up in one awful moment of doubt? Now I had to wait five more hours until we landed and until I could try to contact him.

I reclined my seat, though there was no chance in hell I’d be getting any sleep on this flight.

* * *

It was snowing in New York. The heavens had opened up and they were spitting white stuff at me. The heaviest article of clothing I had was my black sweater, which I currently wore. I hadn’t brought anything more than this because I hadn’t ever planned on being here.

“You want my coat?” John offered, as we stepped outside into the freezing cold.

“No,” I snapped, my teeth clattering together. “Just hurry and get us a cab—please.”

There was a line of them waiting to pick up passengers. So I didn’t have to brave the cold for very long. My cell phone had about five percent battery life left, meaning a phone call to Rhett would have to wait. As I followed John into the cab, I decided to send him a quick text. My phone had enough battery for that much.

Me: I made it to New York. I know it’s early on the West Coast, but can I call you soon?

No response.

Fifty minutes later and one hell of an expensive taxi ride across town, I still hadn’t heard back from Rhett. John and I made it to my parent’s Manhattan apartment. After hugs and greetings and some half-assed version of the truth about our sudden arrival at eight thirty in the morning was exchanged with my parents, I slipped away to my room. Immediately, I dug my phone charger out of my bag and had my phone plugged in.

Pacing around my room for a minute, I then tried to call Rhett. I’d always had his number. Noah gave it to me months ago ‘just in case I ever needed to reach him for anything.’ At that time, I’d never thought I’d use it. Now I needed it. I also needed him to answer. I was feeling pretty damn desperate at the moment. And then…

No freaking answer.

“Leave a message,” was all his voicemail said. It was weird hearing his voice like this—it made me feel even more disconnected from him somehow.

“Hey,” I said awkwardly into the phone. “Um, I can’t get ahold of you.” Well, duh, obviously since I was talking to his voicemail. “Um, call me back when you can. Oh, and your voicemail sucks. You should probably record a new one. Oh, and this is Sydney…in case you were wondering.”

I hung up the phone. It was possible he wasn’t awake yet. It was also possible the group had gone out to do more touristy Los Angeles stuff today. Or maybe they were spending more time with Ben. I had no clue. I left my phone on the plug and then headed out my room to join my family.

The next couple days were a struggle. Rhett never called me back. He never texted either. To add to my helplessness feeling, it ended up snowing twenty-some inches in New York. It took the snow plows two days to even start digging the streets out. Not that I had anywhere to go, but being stuck indoors wasn’t on the top of my to-do list for this holiday. Thanksgiving was tomorrow. Afraid of more snow hitting, the Carters had come over one night early.

Mom’s main worry was the caterers and her fear that they might cancel tomorrow. “I can’t cook. We’ll have to order Chinese,” she said, laughing with Mrs. Carter over her fifth glass of Pinot Noir of the day. Her solution to the snow was to drink. An acceptable solution, even I’ll admit that, but I feared what this might mean for dinner tomorrow.

John groaned. It seemed he had the same fear. He’d been in his pajamas for the past two days. For as much as he pushed me to come here with him, he looked about as miserable as I felt. “Sydney—put on your snowsuit, we’re going out.”

“What?” I glanced at the window. All I could see was white and then more white. “Are you insane?”

“No. There’s a small market store less than a block away. I think just in case the caterers don’t show tomorrow, then we’ll need to go get a few things. They probably won’t have any whole turkeys for sale…but maybe some turkey breasts or something.”

“Yikes.” Chinese sounded better than that. “Fine. I’ve got nothing else better to do.”

So John and I bundled up from head to toe in all of our parent’s old skiing gear. We each had a full body snowsuit on, goggles, hats, boots, gloves, scarves—the works. Heath, who turned out of be relatively normal just as John had described, although still not someone I would ever consider dating, decided to come with us. After he was properly dressed too, the three of us rode the elevator down to the lobby. Then we waddled out into the cold. The snow was so high, it took the three of us almost a half hour to walk one block down the street. By the time we walked into the market store, I was sweating like it was summer, somewhere underneath layer after layer.

“We can only bring back what we can carry. So what sort of things do you want to eat tomorrow?” John asked us.

“Pumpkin Pie,” Heath said, rubbing his belly. “I could live on Pumpkin Pie.”

“O…kay,” John replied, shooting me a look. “And you Sydney?”

At that moment my phone rang. It was only my mom. She wanted us to get more wine from the store. “There goes my arm space,” I muttered, hanging up. “I guess I’m in charge of wine. The lushes back at the house are demanding it.”