Kissing Snowflakes

by Abby Sher

  And then I closed my eyes, and I waited to see what would happen.

  When I woke up, it was still a soft bluish pink in the room. I looked at the clock.

  5:48.

  I guess that’s what happens when you go to sleep before ten o’clock.

  I tried closing my eyes again but it was pointless. I was wide awake. And starving. All right, Levy. Have to make the best of this situation. Start over. Try to be civil to Kathy. Or maybe just ignore her. But first, food.

  I crept into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face, then dug through my duffel to find my favorite hoodie sweatshirt and grab my copy of The Catcher in the Rye. It was my favorite book. I had read it about twenty times, but I had finished the other book I bought in Florida and all I had from the airport were trashy magazines about women eating their way to being younger and celebrity couples splitting up. I crept downstairs.

  There was already a fire going in the fireplace in the lobby, and there was classical music playing, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I wandered through to what I guessed was the dining room. There were about a dozen tables set, and floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the room. The sun was coming up over the snow-covered peaks, turning everything the most incredible color. It was somewhere between orange and pink and purple and it made the snow gleam.

  Phil came out of a swinging door on the other side.

  “Whoa! We’ve got an early riser! What can I do for you?”

  There were bags under his eyes and the gristle of a new beard growing in, but he still gave a huge smile. His teeth were long and thin, just like the rest of him.

  “Oh, I’m fine. I just couldn’t sleep,” I said.

  “Well, let me set you up with a cup of coffee, huh? Breakfast will be coming up soon.”

  I could hear Mom saying, “Don’t drink coffee. It’ll stunt your growth.”

  But I loved the taste of it with just a little whole milk and sugar. Mmm. I was on vacation, right?

  “Sure,” I said. “Is it okay to sit here?”

  “Sure. Or go sit in front of the fire. I love doing that in the morning,” said Phil, and then he disappeared back through the door. I could hear plates clattering together and the sizzling of a grill. It smelled so good. There was definitely something sweet like muffins baking and maybe even bacon frying. I was so hungry I wanted to eat my shirt.

  I went back to the fire and sat down in one of the maroon armchairs. There was a pile of outdoor magazines on the coffee table and a handmade flyer that said KARAOKE MONDAY! 8:30 IN THE LIVING ROOM! SING TO THE STARS! The last time I had done karaoke was in a booth at my cousin’s Bar Mitzvah. I thought I was awesome at the time, singing Madonna’s “Like a Prayer.” Really getting into it, too — belting it out and even dancing. At the end of the night the DJ gave me a tape of myself that said “Daniel’s Rockin’ Bar Mitzvah.” When I got the tape home and listened to it, I was so embarrassed that I swore I would never do it again. I guess that meant another early night for me. Levy the party animal.

  I picked up one of the magazines and opened to “Thirty Hidden Treasures of Vermont.” Tried to dive into the pictures of mountains, lakes, and winding trails.

  “Are you the one who wanted —” I recognized the voice before I even looked up. It was the guy from outside last night. He held a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, and his mouth was open like he was going to say something else, but he didn’t. He drew his eyebrows together above that long nose and almond-shaped eyes … and now I knew why he looked oddly familiar. He was the boy from those pictures in the study. Phil’s son — Ethan? Evan? He cleared his throat but still didn’t say anything. Then he leaned over and put the mug down on the coffee table.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Yeah, sure. Listen, I probably should’ve introduced myself last night. I’m Eric. I live here with my dad.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said dully.

  But he still just stood there.

  “And you are …?” he asked.

  “Oh, Sam.”

  “Hi, Sam. Are you reading that?” he asked, pointing to The Catcher in the Rye on the coffee table.

  “Read it.”

  “Oh, I love J. D. Salinger. Especially Franny and Zooey. Have you read that one, too?”

  “Nope.”

  Then I picked up my coffee cup and blew at the puffs of steam, mostly so I would have something to do. Eric took the hint and walked away. So much for starting over, Levy. I guess I’ve never been good about letting go of grudges. Maybe because I’m a Scorpio. My mom said the first time she fed me liverwurst I got so mad I didn’t talk to her for two days. I like to think of myself as principled.

  I stirred my coffee. It was milky and sweet, just the way I liked it. And now I heard the swinging door open again, and I could see an older woman in the dining room, carrying a basket that looked like muffins and bagels, then a platter of steaming eggs and one of bacon. My mouth was salivating. It was like that experiment Mr. Keane told us about in Science class, with those dogs and the bell.

  As soon as the lady was gone, I made a beeline for the food. Had to close my mouth so I wouldn’t drool all over the table while I piled up my plate with eggs and bacon, a warm carrot muffin with butter, and fresh, juicy cantaloupe. Then I plopped back down in front of the fire and started feasting.

  Pretty soon an older couple came down the stairs in matching navy fleece sweatshirts. She had a white fluffy helmet of hair and two circles of rouge on her cheeks. He was bald and had tucked his fleece into his tan corduroys. So cute. I watched them go into the dining room. Another couple came down. They were younger and looked like they were Asian or maybe Hawaiian, both with beautiful black, silky hair. Hers was tied in a ponytail that trailed down her back. Sigh. I wished I could wear a ponytail. Then a little girl came down, leading what must have been her mom, who was still sleepy-eyed and walking kind of lopsided. Still no single males. Nobody even close to my age. So much for Phoebe’s research on West Lake.

  A little while later, I heard Dad’s voice in the hall. I looked down at my empty plate, then quickly buried my head back in the magazine. I hadn’t really figured out what I was going to say yet about last night. I guess I should have rehearsed.

  “And then we could see what Mount Seneca is like, if we have the energy for it,” Dad was saying. He stopped in front of my chair. “Sam!”

  He and Kathy were standing over me now, hands intertwined. Dad was looking straight at me, but Kathy stared at the fire.

  “How’d you sleep?” asked Dad.

  “Good, good. You?”

  “Like a rock.”

  Silence. Come on, Levy. Say something nice. But I wasn’t exactly ready to give Kathy a big hug and tell her how happy I was that she was my new stepmom. And she still hadn’t even looked at me yet.

  Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “Well, something smells good. You gonna join us this morning?” he asked.

  “Already ate,” I said.

  “Okeydoke.”

  I picked up the magazine again. I didn’t want to see Dad’s face. I could already tell from his voice how disappointed he was.

  An hour later I was towel-drying my hair when there was a knock on the door to my room.

  “So, we were going to head over to Sugar Peak today,” said Dad, peeking in. “They have downhill, cross-country, and apparently some great instructors.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m just gonna hang out here,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I’m really into my book right now.” I could read Catcher again I guess.

  Jeremy came into the doorway. “So, she’s staying here?” he scoffed. “Told you. What are you gonna do, Sam, play solitaire all day?”

  “No,” I sneered back. Sometimes Jeremy could be such a royal jerk. But he did have a point. I had already tried calling Phoebe after breakfast. No answer. I think today was the day she and her parents were going up to visit her grandma. And I didn’t know how many mo
re secret treasures of Vermont I could discover in those stupid magazines.

  “Loser,” said Jeremy.

  “Leave me alone,” I grumbled.

  “Well, maybe Phil or his son will be around,” offered Dad with a shrug. “He told me at breakfast that they were leading a hike for anyone who stayed behind.”

  Ugh. Not exactly what I had in mind.

  “Come on, Dad. I wanna get going before the lines get too long,” said Jeremy, walking away.

  “Okay, well, see you later …?” started Dad.

  His face looked long and droopy.

  Levy, don’t be a total ass.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll go.”

  As it turned out, lots of people had heard about Sugar Peak. The parking lot was full of ski racks and bumper stickers. There were people in line for the lift that took them up to the top, and bright jackets were already zigzagging down in all different directions. They looked so graceful and sure of themselves.

  Dad led the way to a little chalet that had a snack bar, wooden picnic tables, a huge Christmas tree and, of course, another crackling fire in the middle with couches around it. It smelled like pine needles and hot chocolate.

  There was a big mess of people in the far corner, waiting to get rental equipment. We got in line. Everybody seemed to have on a sporty outfit with long dangling pom-poms and furry hoods. Lots of matching ski pants and striped leg warmers. I looked down at my navy jacket, which my mom and I had gotten on the clearance rack at the end of the season last year, and the red-and-blue-striped mittens that Phoebe and I had picked out together. My scarf was purple, my favorite color, and I had a green hat that looked like a turtle’s back and had earflaps. I was also wearing my favorite Levi’s with long johns underneath. Look out Kate Moss, there’s a new girl in town.

  “Yeah, I heard it’s really icy right now. Superslick,” one of the guys in front of us was saying. He was shaped like a big rectangle with huge shoulders and a tiny head on top.

  “Yeah, we were going down the Falcon Trail at, like, thirty-five miles an hour yesterday!” said the other. He was more of a pear shape, with huge legs. “That’s when Seth bit it hard,” he added. The two of them laughed a little. Then the third guy spoke up. He was definitely about half their size, and sounded a little worried about the whole thing.

  “I feel kinda bad leaving him back there,” he said.

  “Nah, it’s a hospital!” said Rectangle. “There are plenty of nurses and stuff to check up on him. Besides, you heard him. He’s gonna be in traction for at least a month. We can visit anytime.”

  “Yay, Brad. You gotta feel this ice, man, it’s incredible!” said Pear.

  “All right, all right. This one’s for Seth.”

  “Yay, Seth!” they cheered and then high-fived each other.

  That was enough for me. I turned to Dad. “That’s where I’ll be,” I said, pointing to one of the couches by the fire, and then I walked away.

  I didn’t know mornings could last that long. I drank three and a half cups of cocoa, bit off all my fingernails, and went to the bathroom five times. But mostly, I met Margie. Margie had decided to stay in the chalet that morning, too, just to “let her butt take a break,” as she explained. She was from Albuquerque. She lived there with her husband, Stan, and their two ferrets, Elvis and Priscilla. Margie and Stan were retired but they kept very active in the community with their neighborhood watch group, their public transit committee, and their mah-jong league. Margie had a sweater with felt teddy bears that were gathered around a Christmas tree, and she insisted that I try pulling them off and moving them around. (They were attached with Velcro.) She showed me pictures of the ferrets dressed up for Halloween, and the tree house that Stan had built for the grandkids. She really was a sweet lady. But by 10:30 I was seriously considering breaking into sign language to see if she took the hint.

  Finally, people started coming in for lunch, their faces flushed, their jackets dusted with snow, their eyes big and bright with excitement.

  “Well, I guess I should go try to find my brother and stuff,” I said, standing up and stretching. Margie stood, too.

  “You sure you don’t want to join us? I know Stan would love to meet you,” she said.

  “Yeah, my family said we’d meet up, you know …” I lied.

  “Of course. Well, see you after lunch then, huh?” She smiled and looked at me eagerly.

  “Yeah, maybe …” I said, backing away into the crowd forming around the grill now.

  “Hey, loser,” said Jeremy, poking me in the back with his cafeteria tray. “These slopes are amazing! You totally missed out.”

  “Yo Jer — I’m gonna find us a table near the back, ’kay?” I heard someone say behind us. I turned around. There was a really tall guy, maybe 6'3", with a nest of crazy brown curls and hazel eyes. His shoulders kind of sloped forward, like he was afraid of hitting his head on the ceiling.

  “Sure,” said Jeremy. “Meet you there.”

  “Who is that?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Oh, that’s Aaron. We met on the slopes. He’s an awesome skier.”

  “He’s really tall, isn’t he?” I asked.

  “I guess so,” said Jeremy, uninterested.

  “Is he over 6'2"? He must be, right?” I asked. But Jeremy was already paying for his cheeseburger and fries.

  It was really crowded in the lodge by now. The floor was a big puddle, and it smelled like fried food and sweat. I followed Jeremy to the back where Aaron was sitting at a table that was already full of people who looked like they were our age — three girls and another guy. I spotted Kathy and Dad at a table with two other couples. Dad waved and I gave a small wave back. I hoped he wasn’t expecting me to sit with them.

  “Jer. Over here,” said Aaron.

  “Thanks,” said Jeremy, sitting down across from him. I squeezed in next to the three girls, who were obviously there together. Two of them had long, silky blond hair, and the third one had a short brown pixie cut. They all had matching sparkles on their eyelids, and they each had cups of yogurt or fruit on their cafeteria trays. Ugh. I really don’t like it when girls try to eat “light” all the time. I had ordered a chicken cutlet and fries.

  “Hi, I’m Liz,” said the one closest to me.

  “Sam,” I said.

  “Heidi,” said another.

  “Dina!” piped the third.

  “We’re here on winter break together,” explained Liz.

  “Cool.”

  “And Drew’s our teacher!” said Dina with a wide smile. Heidi covered her mouth, but I could tell she was giggling.

  “That’s me,” said the guy on the other side of Liz. He had smooth, tanned skin, and eyes that flashed a brilliant blue. There were orange ski goggles on his head and little spikes of dirty blond hair underneath them. He was wearing a gray thermal shirt, but I could tell just from the way it hugged his broad shoulders he was one of those guys who could be an underwear model. Or at least sell fancy watches.

  “Yeah, Drew’s a really awesome teacher. We learned so much,” gushed Liz.

  “And he’s been in the Olympics!” said Dina.

  “Just the trials,” said Drew. But I could tell he was pretty pleased they’d brought it up. When he smiled his teeth were bright and perfectly straight. It was a little ridiculous. He looked like a Ken doll. I felt bad, watching the girls all swoon over him.

  “That’s so amazing. What was that like?” asked Liz.

  “Pretty nerve-wracking. I trained for a really long time.”

  “Downhill?” asked Jeremy.

  “Super G,” said Drew.

  “Wow!” said Dina and Heidi at the same time.

  Super G? What the hell was a Super G?

  “Yeah, it was incredible,” said Drew. “Do you guys ski?” he asked Jeremy and Aaron.

  “We hit Eagle’s Landing this morning,” said Jeremy.

  “Yeah, it was awesome,” said Aaron. His mop of curls bounced when he talke
d.

  Okay Levy. Come on. Show up.

  “Yeah, I heard that’s a really cool trail,” I said, trying to catch Aaron’s eye.

  Nothing. I waited.

  “Was it fun?” I asked weakly.

  “Yeah, I just said it was,” said Jeremy. I tried to shoot him a look but he didn’t see.

  Aaron kept shoving his grilled cheese sandwich into his mouth.

  Okay, I could do this. I just needed confidence, perseverance, maybe a blowhorn.

  “Sam?” Jeremy was elbowing me in the side.

  “Huh?”

  “Liz just asked you something.”

  “Wha —?”

  “Oh, I just said, do you ski, Sam?” asked Liz sweetly.

  “Um, not really.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “Yeah, why not Sam?” asked Jeremy with a sneaky smile.

  Great. Think fast, Levy. “Oh, you know. I didn’t sign up in time. I’ll probably take a class tomorrow,” I said, giving Jeremy a swift kick under the table.

  “Ow!” said Dina, who was sitting across from me.

  “Oops! Sorry about that, I didn’t mean it! I thought it was …” Jeremy watched the whole thing and just shook his head, laughing. Heidi was laughing, too.

  “What? I missed it,” said Aaron. Ugh.

  “Well, if you want, I’ve got a space or two left in my afternoon session,” said Drew.

  “You should do it, Sam! It’s for total beginners. We had so much fun, we’re doing it again!” said Liz.

  Jeremy looked at me. “Actually, Sam’s more into reading. She’s not that into —”

  “Yeah, sign me up,” I said, cutting him off just in time.

  Outside, the air felt thin and sharp. Drew led the group to a small valley just beyond the chalet. Then he stood in front of us with his feet spread apart, and started reading out our names. There was me, Liz, Heidi, Dina, and a little girl named Molly who had pink everything, including earmuffs and knee pads, which I thought was cool. She was there with her dad. And then there was a couple with matching striped hats, I didn’t catch their names. I was too busy trying to keep my balance. My boots were a size ten. The guy behind the counter had said that they ran big, but I think he only said that so I didn’t feel like a mutant. I knew I would tip over with the first gust of wind.