Glancing at his watch, David’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. Class was starting soon and Mindy was still nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t like her to be late. He took his seat, placing the chocolate box on his desk, his one hand laying over it, as if protecting it from any other girls who might get the wrong idea.
He recalled his first real conversation with Mindy the other day. They had said hello before and chatted about assignments, but Tuesday she had actually sat down during lunch and talked to him about something other than school. And he’d been a blubbering mess.
“Have you read The Count of Monte Cristo?” She asked, her lovely eyes focusing on him and him alone.
David was afraid he might faint. Did people faint in real life? If his heart didn’t stop racing soon, he might find out. Oh no, was he blushing? Mindy, The Mindy, was talking to him!
“Uh, yeah.” Smooth.
“Oh, good!” Her face brightened and David had to keep himself from gawking at her. Too pretty. Way too pretty for him.
“I’m doing a report on it next week and I wanted to bounce ideas off someone. I was hoping you had read it. I know you love to read, too.”
Though his mind was running a million miles an hour, words were not forming easily. After a few minutes of fumbling around with his backpack strap, his eyes averted, he was finally able to have a real conversation with her. Mindy pretended not to notice how befuddled he was by her sudden approach and they ended up talking about books for almost twenty minutes. The best twenty minutes of his life.
Currently in class, the bell was ringing and still no Mindy. Where was she? Was she out of town today? Did her family have some elaborate vacation planned for Valentine’s Day? That seemed a little far-fetched, but what other reason would she have to miss school? Mindy had perfect attendance every semester.
Maybe she was sick. There was a bad case of the flu going around the school. Well, crap. David shoved the tiny box into his backpack and rubbed his chin. If she didn’t show up tomorrow, he’d give the chocolates to Ann. No use wasting them.
* * *
Mindy hadn’t been sick. Her father had died.
When David found out, he was crushed. That poor girl. How could such a horrible thing happen to someone so nice? She didn’t deserve that kind of pain. It was a damn tragedy. She was out of school for almost three months. Her girlfriends brought her her work and she turned things in through them, so she was never really behind in her studies. But eventually she had to come back. If she missed too many days, she would fail her grade.
Near the end of May, Mindy walked back into class with a weak smile and a backpack full of work. She seemed like her old self, but her eyes didn’t sparkle like they used to. The students and teachers were walking on eggshells around her. No one was quite sure what to say. No one knew how to be normal around her now.
But David knew. He had lost his grandmother just last year. She had raised him like her own when he was young and his mom worked two jobs. Losing her had been the worst agony he had ever felt in his life. He understood what it meant to deal with that soul-crushing pain daily and, more importantly, how to keep going despite it. So when Mindy started sitting away from her friends and near the books with David, he pushed away his nervousness and began talking to her. He didn’t give her pity eyes or sad smiles like the others. He had normal conversations with her. Though hesitant at first, she soon seemed happy for the distraction.
Time passed all too quickly. By the end of the year, they had become friends and the sparkle returned to Mindy’s eyes.
* * *
David smoothed his shirt and patted his unruly hair. Clutching his gift in one hand, his palms already sweating from nerves, he inhaled deeply and stepped into the classroom. Today was the day.
Most of his close friends weren’t in his classes this year. He had some fair-weather friends but no real bosom buddies that he could have serious talks with. Ann’s family had moved away last year, taking her out of his life almost completely, leaving just text messages and Skype calls as their only means of communication. He couldn’t help but to wonder how long his friendship with Ann would last with entire states separating them.
Senior year was kind of sucking so far.
The only light in the dark was Mindy. She was still in one of his classes this year. The summer had done wonders for her outlook on life. She was back to her cheerful, kind self, determined to live her life to the fullest. At least, that’s what she told David when he called her a few times over the summer. They had made several plans to meet and hang out, but circumstances always prevented it from happening. When school started back, Mindy was quick to assure him of her joy that they shared English again. Just seeing the way her face lit up when he walked in the room made his insides melt.
Yes, this was it. There was no going back now. His eyes immediately locked on Mindy’s tall form. Good thing he had grown almost two inches this last year or she would be much taller than him now. He grinned at her “ugly sweater” with the Death Star on the front. Her sense of humor was adorable.
Switching the candy cane to his other hand so it wouldn’t melt from the inferno that was his body right now, David approached her quickly. No way was he letting anything come in the way this time. A year ago, he had been so nervous he was almost unable to find his voice. This year he was more confident. Still nervous as hell, but surer of himself.
Mindy was kind and smart and beautiful. But she was also human, just like him. She was no goddess on a golden pedestal. The worst she could say was no. He hoped, really truly hoped, that if she did deny him, that they could still remain friends the way he and Ann had.
Tapping her shoulder, David cleared his throat to get her attention. Turning away from the blonde headed girl she was laughing with, Mindy’s green eyes found his. She immediately beamed at him. That was a small victory, right there.
“Sorry to interrupt,” David said, his voice clear, “but I wanted to ask you something.” He held the candy cane out with a slightly trembling hand, waiting patiently for her to take it from him.
What We Built
“Can’t we go sledding soon?”
“Yeah, yeah, in a bit.” Rory rolled his eyes in his overdramatic way. “I swear, kid, babysitting you is such a pain.”
“It’s not babysitting if you’re having fun, too!” Michael insisted in a high-pitched voice. It was the same old conversation between the brothers and Michael knew that Rory was only giving him a hard time. The boy might be twelve now, and two inches taller since the summer at that, but Michael knew he still enjoyed playing with his little brother. Even if he hated admitting it. Sometimes, he just liked to argue and bicker for the heck of it. Mom said Rory was going through a “stage” or something that Michael didn’t really understand.
As they trudged along, Michael slipped on some ice hidden under the snow, his ankle sliding sideways and throwing him off balance. His arms windmilled for a moment before Rory reached out and grabbed his elbow, stopping his slow fall. Once he regained his balance and his eyes went from ostrich egg size to normal again, Michael glanced up, flashing his brother a grateful smile. Rory smiled back briefly, then continued trekking through the snow, his eyes ever alert, ever searching for the perfect spot.
Yes, his brother still cared about him. Michael should never doubt that.
“There,” Rory finally called out, pointing.
“It’s almost the same spot as last year,” Michael said.
“Hey, a good spot is a good spot!”
Michael didn’t argue, but dropped the worn pack on his shoulder and began rummaging through the contents. Rory had already gotten to work packing a snowball in his hands. While the small boy laid out the floppy hat, brown scarf and gloves, and pieces of coal, the taller boy with unruly black hair rolled his snowball along the ground. As Rory collected and packed more snow, Michael began his own snowball. After a few moments of only the sounds of crunching snow and the harsh wind whipping through the nearby trees, Michael s
poke.
“How come we don’t walk down to Clayton’s store anymore?”
“Well, I’m always doing other stuff. It’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just busy.”
“Not really. You just like hanging out with your friends more now.”
Rory sighed and looked up from his work, locking his brown eyes with Michael’s hazel ones. “It’s not that I don’t like to hang out with you anymore. It’s just... well... I have other things I’m into now.”
Michael wrinkled his tiny nose. “Yeah, like girls. That’s all that you and Tommy talk about. I don’t see what the big fuss is.”
His brother’s brow furrowed at that and Michael knew he was thinking hard. “Well,” Rory said slowly, “When you get older, girls get prettier. No, wait, that’s not right. I mean, they are always pretty. But, I guess you just notice it more as you get older. It’s hard to explain.”
“Obviously.” Michael threw out the word he heard his mother use often, proud that he knew what it meant and could use it properly. Rory laughed.
“Yeah, things get more complicated as you get older. Enjoy being little while you can.”
“You talk like an old man!”
Rory stood, his snowball now the size of a watermelon. “Sometimes I feel like one. Do you need help?”
“I’ve got it!” Michael insisted, though his snowball was lumpy and still quite small. He wasn’t as good at smoothing it out as his brother, but he thought he might be better than last year. It seemed better to him, anyway. Rory nodded at him and continued building up his own snowball.
Hearing a rustling nearby, Michael glanced up to see a fox leaping through the snow about twenty yards off. He watched the animal in mute fascination as it took off across the field and into the woods behind them, the flash of its brown tail the last sight of it. The way animals moved, especially through the snow, was something that had always caught his interest. He could watch them for hours. Mom said it was the only time he knew how to be still and quiet. He hated it when she was right.
“We’ll need hot chocolate after this, my hands are already icicles!” Rory exclaimed. But when Michael glanced at him, he seemed happy. His eyes were alive with glee, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. He was always happier this time of year, even now going through his “stage” or whatever. Rory’s snowball was huge now and he rolled it to the special spot he had picked out. He stared at his brother for a minute and Michael knew what he was thinking.
“I still don’t need help. Why don’t you start on the middle while I finish?”
“Yes, sir!” Rory fake saluted before dropping to his knees to gather up more snow. “Hey, how are you doing in Miss Goldberg’s class, anyway? You never really told me if you like her or not.”
Michael shrugged even though Rory wasn’t looking. “She’s okay, I guess. There’s so many rules in first grade. Way more than last year.”
“And there will be even more next year, believe me.”
“Is middle school hard? You always have so much homework. You sit there forever working on it.”
Rory shrugged without looking up and Michael wondered if he looked like that when he shrugged. “Eh, it’s a lot. I mean, some of it is hard. Some is pretty easy. Some is just nonsense. Like algebra, ugh. It makes no sense to me.”
“Algegrab? What’s that?”
Rory finally looked up and laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Don’t even worry about it. You won’t have to for a while.” Michael shook his head but noticed that Rory’s second snowball was already huge. It was always this way: Rory taking time with the first one but by the second one he had gotten faster. As if his hands finally remembered the tradition.
The wind blew Rory’s hair in his face as he bent his knees and picked up the snowball, setting it carefully on top of the first. The second was only slightly smaller and Michael was in awe of how smooth and well packed they both were.
“Well? You ready for my help now or will we be out here until dark?” That sounded like the usual, snappy Rory, but when Michael glared at him, his brother’s cheeks were all dimply like he was trying not to smile. Michael played along. Maybe he liked to bicker for the heck of it, too.
“If you’re so cold and miserable, just go on home!” Michael used his nasally, whiny voice, but Rory didn’t bite. Instead, his brother knelt down beside him and helped him pack more snow onto his pathetic little ball. Michael bit his lip, hating that he needed help. He wanted to be big so he could do things on his own.
“You’re getting better at this,” Rory said, as if reading his mind.
“Still not as good as you.”
“You will be, one day.” They lifted the snowball together and placed it on the others. Now their snowman had a body and a head. The decorations only took a few minutes since they always did it the same way every year. This time, Rory cocked the floppy black hat to the side, to “give him some character.” Michael wasn’t sure about character, but the fake man looked pretty good.
When it was completed, the brothers stood back to admire their work.
“What do we name him?”
“Tobias,” Michael said. He had picked the name weeks ago and was excited to finally share it.
“Tobias. That’s a good name. Nice choice, buddy.” He held up a gloved hand and Michael slapped him a high-five. Only for Rory to pull him down in the snow and start a wrestling match. Michael didn’t usually like to wrestle, but Rory was a lot easier on him these days than he used to be. Soon enough, they were both covered in a layer of white and breathing heavily.
“Well, the traditional snowman is built,” Rory huffed. “I swear he looks better every year.”
“I think so, too.” Michael shook the snow out of his gloves, then leaned on Rory so he could get the freezing mush out of his boots.
“Maybe next year we’ll invite Tommy,” Rory said.
That had Michael slapping his foot in his boot prematurely, half the snow he had tried to dump out falling right back in again. “Nuh-uh! No way!”
“I was just kidding! This is our thing. Just us.” Rory gave Michael a one-armed hug, pulling him close to his side. And for Michael, that was the best part of the day. Standing beside his brother, looking at the snowman they had made together. Rory had gotten too old to say “I love you” anymore, but standing there with his arm draped over his shoulder, Michael felt it. He didn’t need to hear the words. He knew.
“You know, maybe after this we can go sledding, then walk down to Clayton’s store together. How does that sound?” Rory said as he helped Michael slip the empty pack on his shoulders.
“Hey, whatever happened to getting hot chocolate?”
Emily’s Valentine
The snowflakes were those big fat ones that almost looked like bits of white paper falling from the sky. It had been windy this morning, but now the snow fell lazily to the ground outside. The sky was cloudy, but bits of a gorgeous blue shined through here and there. Emily stared out her window, watching the winter storm through fogged up glass, her thoughts miles away. Every few minutes her chubby hand would reach over and snag a piece of chocolate from the box in her lap. Her eyes never left the window as her fingers hastily popped the delicious morsel into her mouth.
She hated this holiday. Some people called it Singles Awareness Day, usually those who were angry and bitter about having no one to spend the day with. Emily was lonely, too, but her main reason for loathing the holiday was the sweets. Chocolates, candy hearts, and loads of other candies on display in every store she entered. Even the kiosks and vendors in the mall seemed to throw out displays of sugary yummies overnight. Why did they have to tempt an already overweight girl like herself? And why did she always give in to temptation?
She let out a sigh that only fogged up the glass near her face all the more. Pulling the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt down past her wrist, she wiped the window so she could continue to look outside. Even recognizable objects, like the mailbox and the neighbor’s car, wer
e becoming nothing but strangely shaped lumps under the snow outside. It was no big surprise that they had cancelled school and for that, Emily was glad. She enjoyed school, enjoyed her teachers and classes. She even had a good amount of friends for a chunky girl with rather plain features. But no school today meant no watching candy being passed from hand to hand. No sickly displays of affection from couples. No balloons received from parents and relatives. No flowers and cards.
Okay, so maybe she was bitter and lonely after all.
She was just reaching for the last of the chocolates when she spotted a figure moving outside. Someone was out walking in the snow. She made a hmph sound in her throat and shook her head slightly. What kind of fool would be out in this weather? It was too cold, too easy to slip, and too easy to smack into something unseen, hidden under the snow. Not to mention, the danger of massive icicles falling on your head. The person had their arms wrapped around their middle, walking across the street where the sidewalk was supposed to be. Emily could just imagine snow and ice from the trees lining the sidewalk plummeting down on the person. She almost wanted to throw the window open and yell at them for being an idiot. Then again, that would mean letting the cold and snow inside. Oh well, maybe they didn’t have far to go.
She continued to watch and soon realized that the figure was a boy. The way he walked gave it away, as well as the cut of his dark coat and black boots. The face was covered by a thick blue scarf and a hat pulled low, but she was sure it was a boy about her height. Was it someone she knew?
Then Emily recognized the hat and coat and she was leaping up from her spot by the window, tossing the nearly empty box from her lap to her desk. When he crossed the street and headed towards her house, she knew for sure.
Oh, why today? She was wearing sweatpants with a hole in the thigh and a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt that had noticeable grease stains in more than one spot. Her dark hair was a limp mess and her feet were covered in thick purple socks. She looked like a mismatched bum. Finger-brushing her hair, she power walked out of her bedroom and down the hallway. Snagging a piece of gum from her purse on the way (chocolate always made her breath smell horrible), Emily rubbed a finger over her front teeth, in case they looked fuzzy. She had just reached the front door when the first knock sounded. Sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly, Emily opened the door.
Winter Wishes of the Heart Page 2