I’m bored. If it wasn’t for your dumb idea of sneaking out to that overnight party, we wouldn’t be in this mess.

I glare at Lucas from the foot of my bed, arms crossed over my oversized sweater, legs tucked under the thick duvet. Snow taps against the window like it’s mocking us. Grounded for two weeks. No phones, no car, no nothing. Just this room, the crackling fireplace Dad insisted on lighting before he and Mom left for their “trust-building” dinner, and my stupid stepbrother ...