She found herself stretched out on the neatly made bed in Calum’s dorm room back at Gosforth. For a long moment, she let herself imagine that she was back in the days when she and Cal would study together lying side by side on the narrow bed. They’d called it “studying” but, of course, it had been mostly goofing around and making out. Back in the days before the world had come crashing down. Reality sucks, Heather thought wanly. Especially when it’s so unreal. She groaned and rolled over, squinting in the dim light from the bedside lamp. Cal was sitting in the reading chair at the foot of his bed, staring at her. He held a glass of water in his hand and when he saw Heather open her eyes, he stood up and warily held it out to her. The look in his eyes said that he thought she might throw it in his face, but she just took it and said, “Thanks.” It was warm and she wondered how long he’d been sitting there holding it. She must have grimaced, because he said, “Sorry,” and reached out to touch the side of the glass, which turned suddenly frosty in her hand.
