by Tricia Mills
“Oh, Winter, you look beautiful,” Mom said from the side of the room.
Dad shook his head slowly in disbelief. “My baby, all grown up.”
Jesse’s brain seemed to reengage as he turned more fully toward me. “Your mom’s right,” he said low. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I fingered the dark lapel of his suit. “Much better than a hockey jersey.”
“You know, I debated between the two.”
“Come on, young and pretty people.” Mom ushered us next to the mantel. “I want pictures before you go.”
After a couple of minutes of photos, my parents allowed Jesse to help me into my coat.
“Be careful,” Dad said. “It’s wild out there tonight!”
When Jesse opened the door, the cold gusted inside as if hungry to find more warm air to consume. I huddled inside my thick hood as Jesse led me along the snow-covered driveway to the running SUV. Even with my long, down-filled coat, I was shivering by the time Jesse helped me into the passenger side. I watched as he hurried around the front to his own side.
Before he could slip into the SUV, a waft of warm air traveled around my shoulders and up my cheek. My breath caught for a moment. I knew the warmth wasn’t a result of the SUV’s heater. Spencer was here with me, no matter what anyone else thought. I smiled out into the night as I realized his presence felt comforting. Like a seal of approval.
When we arrived at the school, the sight of the gym’s interior took my breath away. The Snow Ball committee really had outdone themselves. They’d transformed a place of sweat and squeaky sneakers into a fairy-tale winter wonderland.
Cotton batting sprinkled with silver glitter covered the refreshment table. It was mounded around the punch bowl to simulate a snowbank. Dozens of white and silver paper snowflakes hung on long strings from the rafters. Several white Christmas trees were grouped in one corner, like a snow-covered forest.
A DJ, made possible by the proceeds from the Halloween costume contest, already had tunes playing as we entered.
Everything was simply gorgeous, including Jesse. He pulled me into a dance, and my heart swelled. It wasn’t the same type of deep feeling I’d harbored for Spencer all those years, but it was warm and sweet and held potential for something more.
I spotted Lindsay and Caleb as soon as they came in. The red sheath dress I’d made transformed my best friend into an exotic beauty, much like a movie star. I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
Anja had cried the day before when she’d seen it, and I’d given her strict orders not to show it to Lindsay until right before she had to get ready. I didn’t want Linds thinking too much, backing out of the dance or feeling like she owed me anything.
Watching her and Caleb and the intensity of the looks that passed between them, it was obvious they loved each other. If any couple left Tundra School and had a chance to stay together afterward, it was going to be those two. Lindsay had taken a huge step in that direction tonight by finally feeling confident enough to allow Caleb to see her meager, four-room home.
“Come on,” I said as I took Jesse’s hand and nearly dragged him toward Lindsay and Caleb. I heard the comments about how great Linds looked as I made my way toward her with a smile.
“You look gorgeous!” I grabbed her hands and held them out from her. “Like Miss America.”
Caleb moved close to her, and his eyes sparkled with love. “Yeah, I have the most beautiful date here.”
“Nothing against Lindsay, but I might argue with you,” Jesse said from beside me as he placed his hand at the small of my back.
The compliment sent pleasure coursing through me. I looked up at him and smiled.
“Let’s just say we’re both smoking hot and leave it at that,” Lindsay said. She leaned forward and hugged me, drawing my attention away from Jesse. “Thank you so much,” she whispered in my ear. “I’ve never had anything so beautiful in my life.”
“You deserve it. You and Caleb look so happy.”
Lindsay squeezed my hand. “So do you.”
I was happy. Part of me had dreaded this night for the past three months, but as I danced with Jesse and watched how Caleb made Lindsay’s face light up, I realized I’d been wrong. Another piece of arctic cold that had breathed inside me since Spencer’s death thawed and drifted away. I placed my cheek against Jesse’s chest as we danced, focusing on his warmth and nothing else. Not on the remaining parts of my heart that still wished I could see Spencer just one more time.
I pushed that thought away and danced even when my feet started throbbing.
One of the late arrivals was Patrice Murray, and it wasn’t a fashionably late entrance. She was dateless, and no gal-pal posse accompanied her, either. She entered the gym alone and headed straight for the refreshment table. For some reason, I couldn’t stop watching her as Jesse and I continued to dance.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It’s Patrice. She . . . she looks so sad.” And despite everything, I found it saddened me in response.
Jesse looked at his old girlfriend. “Patrice Murray is not used to attending dances alone, even if it was her choice.”
Something told me it was more than that, but I didn’t voice the thought. I wondered why she’d decided to come alone, but I decided not to ruin my night by thinking about Patrice too much. Instead, I refocused my attention on my own very hot date.
After several songs and a glass of punch, I excused myself to the ladies’ room. The one adjacent to the gym had a long line, so I made my way out into the empty corridor and headed for the restroom at the other end of the building. Expecting it to be as empty as the hallway, I gasped when I realized someone was standing inside.
Patrice looked just as startled by my arrival as I was by her. She stiffened and spun away, presenting me her back. It was obvious she’d been crying. I considered leaving her in private, but I didn’t. I stood and listened as she tried to compose herself.
You’re a good person, Winter Craig. Jesse’s words came back to me. Time to live up to what he believed about me. I took a few steps forward.
“What’s wrong, Patrice?” I asked tentatively.
“Nothing,” she snapped.
I fought the urge to wash my hands of her once and for all. But I wanted to be the bigger person. As I decided that, the tone of her voice finally sank into my resistant brain. It was the sound of someone hurting.
I walked into an empty stall and pulled a wad of toilet paper from the roll. I offered it to Patrice, shoving it closer when she made no move to take it. When she finally wrapped her manicured fingers around it, I felt as if I’d won an enormous battle.
I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t thank me. That would likely be too big of a pill for her to swallow.
“Is this about me being here with Jesse?”
“What do you think?” Again with the sharpness.
“You know, the appropriate response to someone who is showing concern about you isn’t to bite her head off.”
Patrice heaved a long sigh. “Why are you in here?”
“The need to go to the bathroom might be the obvious answer.”
She looked at me then, and I saw the redness rimming her eyes. “I mean when you saw I was in here, why did you stay?”
I crossed my gloved arms. “I don’t really know. You make it difficult for someone to even think about caring about you.”
Her laugh was totally devoid of humor. “That’s what my mother says.”
Something about the way she said it spoke of a very deep hurt. “Really? That’s awful.”
Shock registered on her face. But I couldn’t imagine my mother saying something like that.
On the heels of her shock came embarrassment. Again, she turned away, causing the skirt of her sparkly pink fairy-tale dress to swish around her feet.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” I said. “I just think . . .”
She glanced over her shoulder. “What?”
“
This is going to sound all corny, school counselor-ish.”
She continued to watch me. Despite the vicious lies Patrice had spread about me, I found myself trying to help her. She couldn’t be more shocked than I was.
“What do you want, Patrice?”
Her eyebrows bunched.
“Is it really Jesse? Or is that what your mom wants you to have?”
Patrice turned and leaned against the sink. “Jesse told you about my parents, didn’t he?”
“It came up.”
She picked at the fabric of her skirt. “I don’t know what I want. I’ve always just done what my parents said. Pathetic, huh?”
“More sad than pathetic.”
We stood in silence for several seconds.
Patrice gestured toward her teary eyes. “This isn’t because of Jesse. That was Mom’s dream, that we’d end up married and be the king and queen of Tundra.” She snorted. “As if I want to stay here for the rest of my life.”
“So you do know one thing you want . . . to leave Tundra.”
She looked at me for a moment. “I guess you’re right. At least that’s something.”
“Have you told your parents?”
“What do you think? They’re convinced I’m going to go to college but come back and be their next-door neighbor or something. Provide them with a herd of grandchildren whose lives they can run.”
“Patrice.” I waited until she lifted her gaze from the floor tiles. “You don’t have to come back. We only have six months left, and then your life is your own. Between now and then, figure out what you want and go for it.”
I watched as that knowledge sank in and part of her sadness lifted.
“I can’t believe you’re talking to me after how I’ve treated you.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I hope you won’t board the bitchy train again.”
She stared at me so long and hard that I had to resist the urge to fidget.
“I see why Jesse likes you. Why Spencer did.” She swallowed visibly, like she might have a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry about what I said that day at the craft fair. What happened to Spencer . . . it wasn’t your fault.”
I’d already accepted that, but it surprised me how much it meant to hear her say it.
Patrice pushed away from the sink. “I think I’m just going to go home. I look awful now anyway, and Mom’s already ticked that I’m dateless. How much madder can she get?”
I wondered if that was the reason behind Patrice coming to the dance alone—a bit of rebellion against her controlling mother.
She headed toward the door, her silver heels peeking out from beneath her dress. It seemed wrong for anyone to be so sad and lonely on the night of the Snow Ball. Fate had seen that I wasn’t, but I feared the cost was Patrice’s frame of mind.
“Patrice.”
“Yeah?”
“Would you like to dance with Jesse before you go home?”
“I don’t think he wants to dance with me.”
“Tell him it’s as friends, that I said it was okay.”
She watched me as if she thought I might be messing with her before offering a small, shaky smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, and tell him I’ll be back in a few minutes. I have to take care of something.”
I used the restroom as the sound of Patrice’s clicking heels faded down the hallway. When I left the restroom, I didn’t turn back the way I’d come. With a deep breath, I headed for my locker. After I turned the familiar combination, I hesitated before opening the door.
I’d told Patrice to go after what she wanted. Time to take my own advice.
I opened the door and started slowly removing the smiling photos from inside, carefully peeling away the tape, taking long looks at those moments in time and sliding the photos into my handbag. When I took down a shot of Spencer and me grinning wide with our cheeks pressed together, I ran my thumb across his handsome face.
“Thank you.” I thanked him for being my friend, for being my first love, and for understanding that I had to move on.
I gently placed the photo with the others and closed the clasp on my bag. I looked at the remaining photo in my locker—of Spencer, Lindsay, and me. Three best friends. I smiled at the image before closing the metal door and turning back toward the gym.
When I stepped inside, a song was ending, and Jesse was giving Patrice a hug. It didn’t make me jealous, because I now knew how they both felt, and it wasn’t how her parents wanted them to feel.
Patrice didn’t hug me as she left. Despite our conversation, I doubted we’d ever be friends. And that was okay. I had Lindsay for that. And Jesse.
When I focused on him, I wanted to do much more than hug. I walked straight toward him.
“Hey. What—?”
I cut off his question by lifting on my toes and kissing him. It took only a moment for him to lean down and return the kiss. His firm-but-soft warm lips moved against mine, causing my whole body to react. My pulse thudded against my eardrums as I kissed him back.
When the kiss ended, I became intensely aware of the feel of Jesse’s body pressed against mine. I managed to smile at him despite the fizzing in my brain.
“If I’d known that was going to happen, I would have danced with Patrice a lot sooner.”
I laughed and pulled his lips to mine again.
“What is a youth? Impetuous fire.
What is a maid? Ice and desire.”
—Glen Weston, “What Is a Youth?”
Quoted on a homemade valentine card from Jesse to Winter, February, senior year
EPILOGUE
The wind screamed like a wild animal outside. Even for a girl who was Alaskan born and bred, it sounded freakishly cold.
“This makes the night of the Snow Ball look like spring break in Florida,” Jesse said, from where he was looking out the front window of my living room. He leaned closer to the window. “I’m guessing the dark mass at your mailbox is Kerry delivering the mail.”
“Living the postal service motto to the fullest,” I said from my end of the couch, where I’d been doing my homework.
Jesse cut me off as I headed toward the coat closet. “I’ll go get it.”
I gave him a wicked smile and rubbed my hands together. “My evil plan has worked.”
He tapped his temple. “I’ll remember that.”
I retreated to the couch and my thick afghan as Jesse slipped into his coat and stomped through the snow outside. I watched out the window as he raced across the yard to get our mail and his family’s, then raced back in again.
When he blew in the front door, so much snow covered his coat that he looked a bit like Frosty. I blinked dramatically at him. “My hero.”
He discarded his coat, cap, and gloves and stalked toward me. “Your hero needs warming up.”
I squealed as he jumped onto the couch and stuck his cold nose next to my neck.
“Oh my God, get away from me, icicle boy.” I tried to squirm away from him, but he trapped me with his arms and legs.
“I might be persuaded to free you.”
I knew what he wanted, but I played stupid. “And what’s the price of freedom?”
He wiggled his eyebrows.
I laughed, then gave him the kiss he sought. Truth was, I liked our kisses just as much as he did. We hadn’t talked long term, but the relationship we’d flowed into after the Snow Ball made us both happy. Neither of us seemed to want to mess with that happiness by posing big questions. For now, I wanted life to continue as simply as possible.
When he pulled away, I pushed him back and grabbed the mail he’d discarded on the coffee table. Bills, junk mail, doctor-type stuff for Dad . . .
I stared at the return address on the envelope in my hand.
“What is it?” Jesse asked, concern in his voice.
I looked up at him. “A letter from FIDM.”
“Your acceptance letter.” He sounded so sure.
“Or not.” I stared at the words I’d
wanted linked to my name for years. Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising.
“Are you going to open it?”
“I don’t know.” I literally held the course of my future in my hand. It excited and frightened me at once.
Jesse turned my face toward his. “It’s an acceptance letter. Your designs are too good for it not to be.”
“But what if it is?”
Confusion tugged at his features. “That’s not a problem, is it?”
“What if I can’t hack it? What if I get homesick?” What if I couldn’t break myself away for fear of losing Jesse, the way I had Spencer?
That question made me realize how very much he meant to me now.
He caressed my cheek. “Don’t worry so much. You know they have planes between Anchorage and L.A., right? I even hear they fly between the two every day,” he teased.
I swatted his shoulder. “Why do I put up with you?”
“Limited dating pool.”
“There is that.”
He’d lightened the mood enough that I was able to face the letter again. With a deep breath, I ripped it open and pulled out the single sheet of paper. I paused a few more seconds before I calmed myself enough to read.
“Dear Ms. Craig:
It is my pleasure to inform you of your acceptance. . . .”
I didn’t get any farther. A huge smile stretched across my face as I jumped up and squealed. Then I plopped down next to Jesse and kissed him.
“I’m guessing you got in.”
“Yes.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “I’m happy for you.”
“I’m so excited I feel like I might be sick!”
“Make you a deal. If you get sick when you arrive in California, I promise to lose my cookies before my first game at UAA.”
“Wish I could see you play there.”
“I promise to have videos made and sent to you. All the girls at your school will be jealous.”
I pulled back. “They might think you’re too cocky for you own good.”
He shrugged and gave me another of those adorable crooked smiles. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”