Chapter Seven
Twelve Years Ago
The first time Maggie met Colin Livingston he insisted on riding in the back seat. That was what she noticed first and remembered
the longest. Not the frayed and beer-stained fraternity sweatshirt. Not the red-rimmed eyes and beleaguered grin of a guy
who never rolled out of bed before ten.
But as she stood on the dormitory steps waiting for Emily, her smallest suitcase at her feet even though she’d had absolutely
no idea what to pack for three weeks with a stranger’s family, her only goal was to take up as little space as possible, make
as little noise as possible—to not eat too much or take showers that were too long or do any of a hundred things that might
get her sent out into the cold by herself. Again.
So Maggie wasn’t sure what to think when a little red BMW came flying through the parking lot, then slammed on the brakes
in front of her.
“I’m gonna change my name to Rudolph,” Emily chimed from behind the wheel. “Get in!”
Maggie wasn’t expecting a boy to climb out of the BMW’s passenger side. When he flipped the seat up, allowing entrance to
the back, Maggie started to climb in, but he cut her off. “I’ll ride back there.” Then he practically folded himself in half
to fit.
Some pop star’s version of a Christmas carol was coming out of the speakers and Emily turned down the volume. “New Friend
Maggie meet Old Friend Colin.” She was wearing earrings that were tiny bells with sprigs of fresh mistletoe in them, and when
she smiled and popped a bubble it didn’t even mess up her lip gloss. Maggie had never been so envious of anyone in her life.
Not because Emily had a BMW or pretty things or even someone she could introduce as “old friend.” It was more because Emily
belonged. In that car. On that campus. In this world. In a way that Maggie never would.
Emily had spent the last week assuring Maggie that no one would mind one extra guest. She wasn’t an imposition. And she absolutely
didn’t need to chip in for gas or food because Emily’s father managed a hedge fund and Emily’s mother managed Emily’s father,
and between all their society friends and business acquaintances, chances were halfway decent they wouldn’t even notice Maggie
was there. They certainly wouldn’t care.
“Colin’s family always spends Christmas with mine,” Emily explained.
“We have a house next door,” Colin chimed in from behind them.
“The three of us will be the only people under forty, and we’ll be glorious,” Emily said, then popped another bubble.
“Hey, Em—” Colin started, but Emily was already turning down the heat because she knew what he was going to say. She knew
him . And something about it made Maggie feel even lonelier.
“Are you...” Maggie looked back at the boy whose head brushed the ceiling. “Sure? That you want to ride back there? I don’t
mind.”
“Oh, this isn’t for you,” he said. “It’s for me. The back seat is way safer than the front.”
He caught Emily’s gaze in the rearview mirror and she stuck her tongue out at him. “Colin is still mad that I beat him at
go-carts when we were seven. He doesn’t appreciate my driving.”
“So I should put my seat belt on?” Maggie asked and Colin laughed. Then Emily slammed on the gas and peeled out of the parking
lot, running over the curb on the way.
By the time they reached the eleven-bedroom mansion on a rocky beach in Rhode Island, Maggie knew three things: Emily was
a fashion major and a terrible driver and Maggie’s new best friend.
By the time New Year’s Eve rolled around she knew one more: she was in love with Colin Livingston.