Connor was interrupted from his attempt at a nap when the bedroom door opened, making light flash in his eyes. He squeezed them closed tightly, rolling over so he was facing the wall in hopes whoever woke him would get the hint and go away. The person shook his shoulder. He groaned and turned his head, cracking his eyes open.

    Zoe stood in front of the bed, arms pulled back slightly. 'Get up,' she said, 'we're doing the ski trip a week early.'

    'And nobody told me this, why?' Connor signed lazily, hoping Zoe was able to understand.

    'You would've found any excuse to stay home and you haven't been there in years. And i don't want to hear dad yelling.' Zoe pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 'So hurry up and pack, we're leaving in two hours.' She took a few steps so she was standing in the doorway. 'Please try not to fight anyone.' She left and closed the door behind her.

    Connor sighed and buried his face into his pillow, hoping it would suffocate him or at least make him pass out so he could get a few more minutes of sleep. But then Larry would come in and for some reason, Connor wanted to listen to Zoe's advice. So, he rolled out of bed. Literally.

    He hissed when he landed. He lifted his right wrist and moved it a little. Dull pain shot through it. He might not be able to get out of the trip, but maybe he could use a slightly sprained wrist to get out of actually skiing.

    He pushed himself off the dirty floor. He looked at the small rug he stood on and wedged his toes between the thick, woven wool. He should vacuum it soon. But that was a job for another day.

    He dragged his tired self over to his dresser. He dug through the pile of unfolded and wrinkly shirts until he found one he liked. It was a Set It Off shirt. He used to listen to them when he was in eighth grade.

    He slipped it on and didn't bother searching for pants as he was wearing the ones from yesterday. As long as there wasn't a noticeable stain, he didn't care if they were clean or not. Then again, even if there was a stain, he still wouldn't care.

    He took out two more random shirts and threw them on his bed, knowing very well that the chances of changing his clothes over the weekend were low. He threw one pair of jeans over there too. He closed the dresser and made his way over to the closet. He dragged out a small suitcase from the far back and let it trail behind him as he walked over to his bed.

    He quickly packed the shirts and jeans. He walked over to his small bookshelf and kneeled down, searching for a specific book. He spotted The Little Price and pulled it out. He ran his fingers across the slightly torn cover.

    He stood up and made his way over to his bed. He put the book on top of the clothes, along with his phone charger. He zipped up the suitcase and rolled it over to his door. He let it rest against the wall next to it and walked out of his room.

    He was not looking forward to a two hour drive with his family.

When they got to the Harrises large cabin, Connor's mood changed drastically. His face turned into a scowl whereas he had a somewhat peaceful expression during the drive. Which was probably due to the fact that he was sleeping the entire time and didn't have to see his parents bicker.

    Cynthia and Larry entered the cabin first. Then Zoe, then Connor. Connor made a beeline for the old staircase when someone latched onto his arm. He immediately thought it was Evan before remembering where he was.

    He turned to face the person and pulled his arm away. Cynthia had a pleading expression etched on her face. Connor sighed and moved with them into the large sitting room. The Harrises sat on one of the couches by the wall across the room.

    Mr. and Mrs. Harris—he had forgotten their names—sat next to each other. Their two oldest children sat on the arms of the couch, on their phones. Lily, the youngest, was sitting on the floor. Connor gave a small smile towards her. She was the only human he liked in the cabin. She didn't care whether or not he wore black all the time or if he locked himself in his shared room or if she had accidentally spotted his scars and asked what happened.

    Mrs. Harris stood up and made her way over to the Murphy's. She hugged Cynthia, then Larry, then Zoe, and she stopped in front of Connor. She raised her arms expectantly, and frowned when Connor wouldn't do the same. Larry nudged Connor's shoulder.

    He raised his arms slightly and the woman wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close. Connor tensed at the contact and resisted the urge to push her off.

    Mr. Harris walked up and clapped Larry on the back as he spoke. Seeing everyone distracted, Connor decided to slip upstairs. Despite the last time he had been there was three years ago, he remember the layout of the place almost exactly. He remembered that he roomed with the Harrises son and Zoe roomed with the daughters.

    He walked down the short hall and faced the door on the right of him. He turned the knob and pushed open the door. The room was like how he remembered it; bunk bed pressed against the wall across from the only window, a single bean bag chair next to the only outlet, and of course scattered clothes. How there were already clothes when it hasn't even been a day, Connor had no idea.

    He noticed the bottom bunk was already claimed by a tiny backpack and pillow, so Connor threw his suitcase onto the top one.

Ah Saturday. The day that now usually consists of Connor sitting with Evan on Evan's couch while watching some random show Evan chose. But that wasn't the case. A Saturday in a cabin meant Larry would force everyone into the car and follow the Harrises to the nearby ski lodge. And since Connor hadn't gone in so long, there was no way he was able to skip it.

    He felt ridiculous in his winter gear. No snow pants, but the jacket was huge on him. Larry had gotten it a few years ago, saying that he would fill it with all the muscles he would develop from sports. Connor wanted to laugh at his stupidity.

    Zoe, on the other hand, looked good. With her pair of ugg boots and her pink jacket and pink earmuffs and white hat. She had a small cup of hot chocolate from the lodge and she sipped it slowly as she waited for the Sandra, the older Harris daughter.

    Zoe could pull off her winter outfit, whereas Connor looked like he was a little kid trying on his father's clothes.

    The two siblings walked next to each other while Sandra walked ahead of them. It was more like Zoe tried to keep up with Connor's long strides while attempting to keep her drink from spilling onto the snow.

    Connor slowed down so he lagged a bit behind her. Not completely behind, but far enough so he could send glares at the few boys that would glance her way without her seeing. He may be an ass to her 24/7, but he doesn't want her to grow up too fast and get her heart broken because some douche couldn't keep it in his pants and forced her into something or if he cheated on her.

    He cared, he really did. He just didn't know how to show it. And he regrets that.

    Zoe threw her now empty cup into a nearby trash can and held her ski poles in front of her.

    They sat next to each other in the ski lift. Zoe held her ski poles with her knees. 'I'm glad you came with, Connor,' she said.

    'Why?' Connor asked. 'I thought you would've liked a break from having me around.'

    Zoe frowned. 'Sure, you're a pain sometimes, but I want to spend time with you. Like we used to.'

    They were silent for a while. Connor looked at his knees. 'I want to ask Larry for speech therapy,' he said suddenly. Zoe looked at him. 'So I can properly talk to him. Maybe that would stop the fighting.'

    Zoe patted her brother's arm, a small smile spread across her face. 'I'll be there if you need help.' Connor nodded and they got closer to the top of the hill. 'Race you to the bottom?'

    Connor nodded again and Zoe jumped out of her seat. Connor followed shortly after. He wasn't one for skiing to say the least, but if there's one thing he liked, it was beating his sister at small challenges.

    He was rusty from years of no practice, so he nearly wiped out every so often. Zoe was far ahead of him, steering passed other skiers and being propelled by smaller hills, making her get farther. Connor used his poles to push himself forward.

    The cold wind was blowing his hair back, making his eyes dry, getting in his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

    He passed some of the younger kids and they watched him in awe. He spotted Zoe at the bottom of the hill, waving at him. He waved back.

    It took him a moment to realize that maybe he was going to fast and that Zoe was warning him about the rock in his path. He realized that too late and didn't have time to steer completely around it. The edge of his ski caught on it and it sent him flying.

    He landed in a large pile of snow. He popped his head out and saw Zoe running towards him. Well, running as well as you can while wearing skis.

    'Are you okay?' she signed frantically. 'Are you hurt? Can you walk?'

    Connor blinked. Then he cracked a small smile. He chuckled a few times before breaking out into a full laugh. Zoe stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open. She probably thought that he was in so much pain that he was delirious.

    But then she laughed too. She reached over and pulled him out of the pile. He brushed the snow off his pants and picked up his ski poles.

    'You should laugh more often,' Zoe said, looking hopeful, 'it's good.'

    Connor frowned and the happy mood was gone. 'Why laugh if there's nothing to laugh about?'

    'Connor, I-' Connor turned away from her and began walking towards the lodge.

It was Sunday and Connor wanted to go home. They leave tomorrow, he'd have to suffer one more day. He did have a good time with Zoe yesterday, but that was quickly ruined when he talked with Larry about the speech therapy.

    Connor laid on his bed, arms above his head and ankles crossed. He had earbuds in even if he couldn't listen to anything. It was the universal sign for "fuck off" so if anybody walked in, they'd know he wasn't in a mood to talk.

    He rolled over and faced the wall. He wanted to go home so bad. He missed it. He actually missed it. Or really, it was more like he missed Evan. He wanted to hang out with him, even if it was just sitting in the same room, not speaking to each other. Hell, even if Kleinman was there.

    Fuck. Why did he miss him so much? All they did was watch shitty movies that Evan insisted were good, but he can't see the terrible CGI. And Evan would laugh at the terrible jokes and he would end up scrunching his nose and Connor couldn't help but think that was the cutest fucking thing ever. And he liked it whenever Evan was comfortable enough to lean onto Connor's shoulder. How peaceful he looked whenever he fell asleep on the couch. How Connor would get all flustered whenever Evan's fingers brushed against his, how—

    Oh.

    Oh shit.