Winter Longing

by Tricia Mills

  “Romantic, especially if he lands you in some secluded spot.”

  I couldn’t help the little squeal of joy that escaped me.

  “You two are going to be sickly sweet now, aren’t you?” Lindsay asked with mock horror.

  “Probably.” I gifted her with my widest smile. “Linds, I think he’s liked me for a long time, maybe as long as I’ve liked him.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “No, but when I asked him about those two Valentine’s cards from him in second grade, if he’d meant to send me two, he just grinned and said, ‘What do you think?’”

  Lindsay stopped and looked at me. “How were you even able to sleep after that?”

  “I couldn’t for a long time. I think I danced all the way home. Then I couldn’t help it; I texted him, told him I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

  “Can’t sleep,” I’d typed. “Should read. What? The Tempest or Persuasion?” I’d giggled, pretty sure I knew what his answer would be since he was no great fan of the Bard.

  “Did he offer to come over, to help find a way to get you to sleep?” Lindsay’s wicked eyebrow wiggle prompted me to shove at her shoulder.

  “No! He’d already fallen asleep.”

  Lindsay turned her attention to the crowd around us. In a small town like ours, everyone showed up at parties. “Well, you two will be sucking face for the foreseeable future.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I need a man.” She sighed. “Okay, a boy will do. So listen, option No. 1: Matthew Stanislowski. Decent looking, reasonably intelligent, but his mom is a bit of a freak.” She stretched her face into a look of mock fright. “Brock Robertson.” She ticked off option two. “Hands roam too much. Dave Cooney.” She shuddered. “No thanks. I’d rather go out with a girl.”

  I groaned as Lindsay kept up her running commentary of every male classmate she spotted. Much as I loved Lindsay, I couldn’t wait for Spencer to hurry back and spirit me away.

  “Don’t groan at me. I’ve listened to you go on and on about Spencer for years! You owe me.”

  “Okay, fine.” She had a point. I kept my mouth shut as she continued to prattle. In addition to her unceasing list of pros and cons, other snatches of the conversations around us sailed past me as I floated along on my happy cloud. Quotas for the king and opilio crab seasons, predictions about the upcoming winter, the rising price of groceries, prospects for Tundra School’s basketball and hockey teams.

  But it was all muffled, hiding behind my eagerness to see Spencer again. To wrap my arms around him, kiss him, snuggle on the couch with him, and have him read to me from the latest Dana Stabenow mystery or hilarious Bill Bryson travelogue. I still had a hard time believing we’d finally moved beyond the friendship barrier. But my long-held dream had, in fact, come gloriously true.

  I was so lost in my thoughts of Spencer that I nearly ran into Lindsay. She’d stopped navigating the crowd as abruptly as she’d stopped her monologue. Instead, she stared ahead, stunned.

  “Who is that?” Her voice sounded breathy.

  I peered around Vernon Sibigorski, the enormous mechanic who worked at Patrice Murray’s dad’s garage. Considering there was only one person in my line of vision whom Lindsay hadn’t known for years, it didn’t take a lot of deductive reasoning to figure out who she meant. The tall, blond guy a few yards ahead couldn’t look any more different from Lindsay’s dark Aleut coloring if he tried.

  “I take it you haven’t met Caleb Moore yet,” I said. “He’s Mayor Ellis’s new stepson.”

  “Pretty sure I would have remembered him,” she said, continuing to stare at Tundra’s newest resident. “If they grow them like that in Oregon, I was born in the wrong state.” She licked her lips and finally stopped looking at Caleb long enough to wink at me.

  Everyone in Tundra knew the story of the mayor’s new family. In a town that barely hit the two-thousand population mark—counting those who lived out on remote homesteads—and boasted not a single stoplight, the mayor finding love on the Internet was front-page-caliber news.

  “He’s okay, I guess,” I said, mainly to tease Lindsay. Caleb was, in fact, nice looking. Not in Spencer’s league, of course, but then, no one was.

  “Okay? He’s perfect.” Lindsay looked like she might drool on herself. “How did I not know when he arrived in town?”

  “He and his mom flew in yesterday—you must have been fishing.”

  A fishing trip that would help Lindsay’s family survive through the winter. I wondered when it would hit her how vastly different her world was from that of Tundra’s new first son.

  The look of total awe on Lindsay’s face worried me. She wasn’t typically one to go goggle-eyed for a guy, but maybe that was beginning to change. And even in Alaska, where neighbors banded together for survival, the blond Mr. Perfect and the daughter of poor natives were an unlikely pair. No matter how you looked at it, Caleb and Lindsay didn’t exactly scream “happily ever after.”

  But she wasn’t looking for that, was she? Linds just wanted a date to the Snow Ball. And today, I was inclined to believe in the impossible.

  “Maybe you should go welcome him to Tundra.” I nudged her in the ribs.

  At first, she looked like the very idea frightened her to death. But then she straightened and looked more like the Lindsay I knew and loved. “Not a bad idea. Grab him before someone else snatches him up.”

  “He’s not a sandwich, Linds,” I said.

  “No, he’s yummier.” She headed in Caleb’s direction.

  I hung back, watching, hoping he wasn’t a cocky, spoiled, rich boy destined to pulverize her self-esteem. Though she never wallowed in self-pity, she’d gone through enough crap already; and I had the feeling I didn’t know the half of it. Despite our long friendship, Lindsay wasn’t exactly the open-up-and-share type. Still, the last thing anyone needed was a broken heart. And I feared that’s what she might get if she set her sights on Caleb.

  Part of my fear melted when he noticed her approaching and smiled—a nice, friendly, genuine smile. Hey, maybe this would work out. Wouldn’t it be awesome if both of us spent our senior year with wonderful, hot guys? I was in the middle of sighing with relief when I noticed a gaggle of Patrice’s acolytes as well as Drew Chernov, aka Biggest Jerk on the Planet, approaching Caleb from another direction.

  They reached him first. Lindsay stopped moving, watched as the group guided him away. Anger swept over me when I saw Drew smirk at Lindsay. Not for the first time, I wanted to punch him all the way to Nome. Caleb glanced back at Lindsay, gave her a powerless expression of apology. I just stared. If he wanted to talk to her, why didn’t he pull himself away from the leech girls?

  Lindsay spun around and walked back toward me. “Dude, I’m so hungry I could eat my arm. Let’s get something to eat,” she said as she passed me on the way to the spread of food.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Um, because Caleb just got hijacked by the A-list crowd.”

  The A-listers were the top tier at Tundra School, the circle that included people like Jesse Kerr, Patrice Murray, Drew Chernov, and their many sycophants.

  Lindsay snagged a dill-pickle spear from a bowl on the table and stared at Caleb across the crowd, a calculating look on her face. “Maybe we need to crash the popular crowd this year.”

  I crossed my arms and stared. “Seriously, did you smoke some crack this morning?”

  “Hey, stranger things have happened.” She used her pickle to point to someplace beyond my left shoulder. “Take that, for instance. Looks like all is not well in Most Popular Couple Land.”

  I slid into the food line behind Lindsay, just in time to see Patrice Murray angrily stalk away from Jesse in a pair of cute red wedges I was pretty sure they didn’t even sell in Alaska. For one crazy, unexpected moment, I thought he deserved someone better than her. Somehow, Patrice had always managed to keep the adults snowed, but I’d seen more than one occasion of sheer bitchin
ess from her. Sure, Jesse wasn’t my BFF or anything, but he seemed to be a halfway decent guy, and I have a particular dislike for spoiled, vindictive girls.

  I squeezed ketchup onto the most charred-looking hot dog I could find, savoring the drama until I considered it could be because of me. If it were, Patrice was a bigger idiot than I’d thought. Like she had an iota to worry about from me. I had Spencer. Jesse Kerr wasn’t even on my radar screen beyond his label as “neighbor.”

  Monica Belanov edged up to the table next to us. “Did you hear Jesse and Patrice going at it?” the petite point guard on the basketball team asked.

  “Just saw, didn’t hear,” Lindsay said as she added wavy chips to her paper plate. “Noticed she left in a huff.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what started it, but I think they’re kaput.” Monica looked over her shoulder. “The line is already forming to be Jesse’s next girlfriend. Any single guys better watch out, too, I guess.” She rolled her eyes, continuing. “Sounded like Patrice plans to be boyfriendless for about three seconds.”

  “Bet whoever she sticks her claws into won’t even have to be single,” Lindsay said.

  The heinous image of Patrice with Spencer burned a hole in the back of my eyeballs, and I choked on a chip.

  Monica met my gaze. “You okay?”

  I nodded.

  “You better get on the ball and snatch up Spencer,” Monica said. “He’s got that whole hottie-nerd thing going on.”

  My stomach turned. The idea that Patrice might set her laser sights on Spencer made the realization that my feelings for him were common knowledge pale by comparison.

  “As of last night, Spencer Isaacs is officially off the market,” Lindsay said.

  Monica’s eyes widened as she looked at me again. “You go, girl. About damn time.” She grabbed a brownie from a plate at the end of the table. “Though I personally don’t think it’d hurt if Patrice tripped, say in the hall at school. I can’t say I’d mind if she broke her nose, necessitating a humongous bandage.”

  I snorted at this. And apparently in doing so I tempted karma, because when I turned to head to the drink table, I tripped over someone’s foot.

  Instinctively, I reached out to catch myself, which only made things worse. I slammed into that same someone’s chest. The owner of the chest caught me, and I looked up to find none other than Jesse Kerr, who was now wearing the contents of a beer can he shouldn’t have had.

  And he did not look happy.

  Third-grade PE was going to kill me. Not only was I not athletic, but I constantly worried that I’d look like a fool in front of Spencer—especially today, when I was on his baseball team. I tried to put it out of my mind as I swung at the ball. Miraculously, I got a hit and made it to first base.

  After two more batters sent me around the bases to home, I came face-to-face with Spencer. “Well?” I asked.

  He gave me a teasing half smile. “You’re okay, for a girl.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Jesse righted me and glanced down at the liquid soaking his light-blue shirt.

  This was exactly why I wasn’t queen of the social scene. Before I could form an apology, he muttered a “sorry” of his own and hurried away toward the house.

  “Way to go,” Lindsay said. “We might have to rethink you cracking the A-list.”

  I stuck out my tongue, but she just smiled even wider.

  Lindsay and Monica dived back into their conversation about the Snow Ball.

  “Mom said if I wanted, she’d take me to Anchorage to get a dress for the ball,” Monica said.

  “Sweet,” Lindsay replied. “You should totally ask Ryan Davis. I heard he’s a good kisser.”

  Monica blushed as she caught sight of Ryan standing next to the grill, talking to Tyler Cookeson, center for the basketball team.

  “You should go with Tyler,” Monica said. “You two would look awesome together.”

  “Linds has set her sights elsewhere.” I nodded toward the knot of populars surrounding Caleb.

  “Oh, nice taste!” Monica gave Linds a high five.

  I pushed aside my worries about Lindsay’s fascination with Caleb and the inadvertent encounter with Jesse and let my friends’ infectious excitement latch onto me.

  “So, I guess you and Spencer are going if you’re together,” Monica said.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s how they got together,” Lindsay said. “Winter screwed up her courage and asked him.”

  “Nice. We’ve got to take things into our own hands. Can’t depend on guys to make the first move. If we did, we’d be standing here when the next ice age started.”

  “Precisely,” Lindsay said.

  “Well, aren’t we the three paragons of female empowerment,” I said, drawing laughter from Linds and Monica.

  As they started discussing how they were going to approach Caleb and Ryan, I pictured Spencer, gorgeous in a dark suit, escorting me, dancing with me and me alone. This year, the Snow Ball wouldn’t be just another school function I skipped.

  How was I supposed to wait three whole months? I could already see the school gym transformed into a glittering winter wonderland, something straight out of old Hollywood, a fantasy into which Spencer would guide me like Fred Astaire dancing with Ginger Rogers. My fingers itched to wrap around my drawing pencil, to design the ultimate dress. Something flowy and shimmery, a vibrant red that would contrast against the white decorations and the piles of snow that would no doubt cover Tundra in a thick, frozen blanket by then.

  I lost myself in the daydream, in my thoughts of Spencer’s arms around me, his warmth seeping into me, his eyes telling me he had waited his whole life to hold me close.

  “What do you think?” Monica asked.

  It took me a moment to realize she was addressing me, and I had no idea what she was asking about.

  “Never mind,” Lindsay said. “She’s off in Lusting for Spencer Land now.”

  “Jeez, Linds. Could you say that a little louder? I’m not sure the oil-field workers at Prudhoe Bay heard you.”

  “You daydream during important conversations,” Linds said in a fake Russian accent, “you pays the price.”

  To keep from laughing, I looked away from her. I noticed Mr. Kerr whispering something to Dad at the edge of the yard. A tight expression crossed Dad’s face as he followed Mr. Kerr inside. Maybe there was some type of medical emergency. Whatever it was, I felt confident my dad would handle it. Nothing could ruin my high.

  I thought of beer-soaked Jesse inside. If his dad caught him, my solid B-list status might slip even further.

  Maybe I should go say something. But what could I do that wouldn’t just make things worse? Lie and say that I bumped Jesse into someone older who had a beer? Maybe he’d already changed and gotten rid of the evidence anyway.

  Why was I worrying about it? If the situation were reversed, I doubted he’d do the same for me. I took a bite of chewy brownie.

  “What is it?” Lindsay asked.

  I didn’t look at her, because I’d noticed Dad stepping out of the back door of the Kerrs’ house, his face even tighter than before. “Something’s going on,” I said around my mouthful of chocolate. “Back in a minute.”

  I weaved my way through the crowd toward where Dad was talking to Mom. When I saw her hand go up to her mouth in shock, I quickened my steps.

  “I’ll let you know any news as soon as I can,” Dad said, then kissed Mom on the cheek.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  My parents jumped as if burned. My heart instinctively skipped.

  Mom stepped forward. “We don’t know the details yet. Everything may be fine.”

  The brownie lodged in my throat. “What are you talking about? ”

  Mom and Dad glanced at each other, a pained look passing between them. Some part of my brain registered the tears forming in Mom’s eyes.

  “I’m heading up to Katmai,” Dad said. “A . . . a plane has gone down.”

  My v
ision tunneled, and my hearing grew muffled. My knees threatened to buckle. I glanced toward the mountains, noticed that the visibility conditions were worse up there now than when we’d arrived.

  I shook my head. It couldn’t be Spencer. It just couldn’t be.

  Mom reached for me, but I backed away. “No! ” I scanned the crowd, frantic to confirm that Spencer had arrived and was safe, desperate to recapture the carefree, wondrous happiness of the previous minute. But his familiar face didn’t appear among the others. “No, no, no.”

  I turned and ran, barely aware of anyone around me. I didn’t know where I was going until I reached the end of our street and headed for Bristol Road. The airport. Spencer and Samuel, his instructor, would be there. Of that I was sure. And even if they weren’t, Charlie Stevens, who ran the airport, would tell me everything was okay, that whoever had crashed was someone else. Not Spencer. Samuel was too experienced, Spencer too smart.

  By the time I reached the airport, my breath was coming in ragged spurts. When my feet hit the linoleum floor in the lobby of the small, prefab building, they nearly slid out from under me. As I righted myself, I realized Charlie wasn’t alone.

  I edged closer to his office so I could hear what he was saying.

  “I’m so sorry,” I heard Charlie say softly.

  The sound of Spencer’s mother’s cry froze my heart solid. The pain of realization pierced me from every direction. I stood, unable to move, unable to breathe.

  God, I prayed, please let me have misunderstood. Let this be an awful, terrible, cruel dream.

  But the sobs from inside Charlie’s office were too real, too raw.

  With a guttural, wounded cry of my own, I crumpled to the floor.

  I gritted my teeth as Patrice Murray sold two more boxes of Campfire Girl candy. I still couldn’t believe she’d stolen my spot outside the door to Tundra Foods, that she was down to a single box. I couldn’t believe I had to put up with her for seven more years. I looked down at my ten remaining boxes, then at the waning light. Patrice was going to win the digital camera given to the girl who sold all of her candy first.