Snowed In

“So… what do we do until then?”

The other three of us laughed as we spoke the same words, all at the same time:

“We SLEEP!”

Forty-Seven

MORGAN

I didn’t get much sleep, through no fault of anyone but myself. I was just too wound up. Too preoccupied with my own thoughts, as a thousand different possibilities ran through my brain.

We were leaving this place tomorrow, and there was a good chance we weren’t coming back. For better or for worse, we were betting all our chips on a single shaky horse:

My radio.

You could be the hero tomorrow, Morgan. For once.

The idea thrilled me. I was almost certain using the radio tower as an antenna would work. It would amplify the signal a hundred times over, casting it from the very top of the structure.

You could be the one to get us all killed, too.

That part was grim… but no less grim than wasting away in the old hotel. Already I could see differences in the way we looked, even the way we moved and carried ourselves. Where at first the guys had boundless energy, they were dragging a little now. Taking slower steps wherever they went. Yawning a lot.

No, this was the way to go. We’d leave the hotel. We’d get rescued. And then…

Yeah, Morgan. What then?

I sighed miserably into my sleeping bag. Honestly I was no closer to making a choice than I was before. Sometimes I was sure I wanted Shane, strong and gorgeous and confident. Other times, I could envision myself enjoying a very happy, very geeky relationship with Jeremy.

As for Boone, well, my body wanted him most of all. Badly. So badly it was constantly arguing with my mind… which if I were being one-hundred percent honest, wanted him too.

Maybe you don’t have to choose…

“Hey…”

I turned over, and Jeremy was staring at me. He looked bright and beautiful and wholly awake.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when we get back?” he asked.

“Brush my teeth,” I giggled.

“Yeah, me too.”

We shared a quiet, secret laugh together. The kind you could only have at midnight, when everyone else was sleeping.

“You still worried that we’re all going to ditch you once we get out of this place?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I’m more worried I’ll be forced to make a choice,” I admitted. “And disappoint someone.”

He smiled and snuggled in closer to me. We were face to face now. Staring at each other like a couple of teenagers at some sleepover.

“I don’t want to disappoint someone,” I said frankly. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Then don’t.”