Yoshi straightens his back as Dad talks to him, and then he nods. “Are you sure it’s okay?” Yoshi asks. “Mia and I were going to do some work together …”
Dad’s eyes flash to mine and I’m reminded of the text I accidentally sent him the other day. I smile, trying to assume a placid look. “Festival stuff,” I confirm.
“Sounds good,” Dad says. “I’m going to go around the area to see if anyone needs help. But Shannon and the girls will be in and out. Why don’t you guys work in the living room? I can build you a nice fire if you’d like.”
And Shannon and the girls will be able to keep an eye on you, he seems to be silently saying.
“Sounds good!” I echo back with a cheery smile.
Yoshi and I grab a bowl of clementines and some napkins and get settled on the couch in the living room.
“Here’s my question: Has there ever been a snowless festival?” Yoshi asks.
I know that in order to brainstorm for this possibility, we need to call it what it is—snowless—but it still hurts my stomach. “Not as far as I know.” I start peeling the clementines just so I have something to do with my hands. “We have pictures of the festival up at the inn from a bunch of different years. Some even pretty old. But there’s never been one without snow.”
I think about the photographs I walk past every day. I love seeing how they go from black-and-white photos with everyone dressed up fancy, to color pictures but still nice outfits, to color pictures with jeans and jackets that apparently made my grandma tsk.
In all of the pictures, there are enormous snowdrifts and people in snowshoes and skis.
“There was one year where I think the temperature was way warmer than expected in December,” I remember out loud. That year we had snow on the ground already, and it felt odd to be walking around with open ski jackets and no hats and gloves. I was really young then, and one of my biggest memories was that everything was wet. “It wasn’t a great year for the festival. Too many of the events didn’t work all that well because things melted.”
“What about other years when the weather didn’t cooperate?” Yoshi asks.
I think back, festival by festival. “I know one year there was a snowstorm in the middle of the festival, so certain events were moved indoors. Apparently, that was also kind of disastrous, and it took a few years for the festival to bounce back.”
“Hmm,” Yoshi says. “It’s a shame, because one of my ideas was that we could move the festival indoors.”
“But how? The festival is all about snow.”
“I hadn’t really figured that part out yet,” Yoshi admits. “I’m just trying to think of what we do in SoCal when the weather isn’t good and we’re supposed to have a surf competition or an outdoor event. Sometimes you can move it inside. Other times you postpone it. Sometimes you change the venue—”
Change the venue.
“Wait.”
Change the venue!
“What if we …” I trail off as I start listing the events in my head. Some we could move inside. For others, we could change the venue. For some, we could change the activity.
“Um, you’re not talking and I can’t read your mind,” Yoshi says, and I nod quickly. But I can’t lose this train of thought. “Talk and I’ll take notes.” He grabs a pad of paper and pencil from the coffee table.
“Okay, humor me,” I say. “Let’s make a list of everything that happens at the festival. Maybe what we should be thinking of is not one solution for the entire festival, but multiple solutions.”
Yoshi nods, and together we map out the festival as it currently exists by category.
“Let’s take out the ones that don’t require snow,” Yoshi suggests, and I nod. We don’t need to worry about the craft fair or the food trucks.
“But then there’s other stuff,” I point out. “Like ice skating, ice fishing, cross-country ski trails, snowshoeing trails, and downhill skiing at the Top of the Mountain Ski Chalet …”
“Assuming the weather stays as it is, are we fine with those?” Yoshi asks.
I think it over. “The only ones that would be a problem are the ski and snowshoeing trails here in town. Top of the Mountain makes their own snow. And they probably have some snow a little higher up.”
Yoshi chews on the tip of the pencil. Then he must realize what he’s doing, because he takes it out of his mouth and smiles meekly. “Bad habit,” he says.
I shrug. There are plenty of pencils. “Okay, let’s rearrange the list into categories of what kinds of solutions they need. Like the ones that don’t require snow can be held indoors or outdoors, even if there’s no snow.”
“Sled Building probably doesn’t need snow,” Yoshi says.
I shake my head. “They have a race at the end.”
“Okay,” he says slowly. “Maybe we need to also think about which events can be changed.”
“You’re right,” I allow.
“Really?” he asks and then winks.
Yoshiki Pennington just winked at me. I have to keep my squeeing on the inside.
* * *
We break for lunch and eat the warmed-up vegetable stew that Shannon serves. Still, we can’t stop talking about the festival, even at the table. I’ve taken notes and we’ve now figured out solutions for a bunch of the events.
While it’s not hard to change snowshoeing to hiking if there’s no snow, a lot of the regular kid-friendly snow activities are hard to move indoors. Which means that a lot of the activities that are great for kids would have to be canceled.
We finish lunch and go back to the living room to keep working. By the early afternoon, Talulah and Tab start to bounce off the walls from the lack of physical activity and too much time together.
“Any chance you guys want to babysit them?” Shannon asks me and Yoshi, trying to get the girls to settle down.
I frown, feeling guilty. “Um … it’s just that we don’t have much time left before Yoshi’s parents come home and then the council meeting. But maybe …”
She waves her hand. “I was mostly joking. But here’s my advice: No matter what you remove from the festival, if you put in a day camp that will take care of kids while adults do fun things? Nobody will get mad at you for anything!”
A day camp for kids …
Yoshi and I turn to each other, both of our mouths open.
“Snow Carnival!” we both say at the same time.
“But wait.” Yoshi frowns. “Doesn’t the Snow Carnival need snow?”
“Well, yes,” I allow. “But …” I think through the events we’d proposed, back when we’d first come up with the carnival in September. They were all basically carnival games with a snow theme. “I actually think all the events can be done without snow.”
Yoshi squints as he goes through the list in his head, but I get impatient.
“Snowball toss, snowball bowling, snowball bull’s-eye, snowball golf, snowball volleyball, tic-tac-snow, frozen bubble blowing, snow graffiti, and the snow obstacle course.” I count them off on my fingers. Nine. Nine amazing events that we’d totally figured out and then had to shelve. And now …
“We can bring back the Snow Carnival!” I say with glee.
“We totally can,” Yoshi says, and his eyes are sparkling.
* * *
Later, Yoshi’s parents come home, so he can return to his house. Then Dad drives me back to the inn.
There, I go up to my room and open my laptop to keep working. Yoshi and I text back and forth, the ideas still coming fast and furious.
Yoshi Pennington: I found the plans for the carnival we drew up in student council. Looks like all the booths can be done indoors or outdoors.
Mia Buchanan: Looking at the same plans …
Yoshi Pennington: YES! *fist bump*
Mia Buchanan: *fist bump* back
Yoshi Pennington: Another event that we could suggest adding—apart from the snow carnival—is rock climbing. Because you said Lark and her dad go somewhere nearby?
/> Mia Buchanan: OMG. Lark and Chris would love that.
Yoshi Pennington: This is going to be seriously cool.
I bite my lip, staring at my phone. He’s right, it’s a really good plan. But how do we get the town council to hear it before they make their decision?
Mia Buchanan: Maybe we should go to Lark’s house and talk to her mom about all this. That way she’ll have something to bring to the council?
It takes me a few extra seconds before I press SEND. I’m not sure it’s a great idea. I don’t want to put more pressure on Soleil.
Yoshi Pennington: How much time do we have?
I glance down at my phone. Shoot. It’s almost three and the meeting is at seven.
Mia Buchanan: Not that much. Want to meet there in an hour?
Yoshi Pennington: *smiley face*
And I grin so hard, I’m almost not nervous.
* * *
“Long time no see,” I say as I meet Yoshi in front of Lark’s house.
His smile is more like a smirk, and maybe I’m slaphappy from doing all this planning or not sleeping well last night (YOSHI PENNINGTON WAS IN MY DAD’S HOUSE SLEEPING IN THE LIVING ROOM!!!!!), but I smirk right back at him. And then giggle.
I’m a dolt.
“Ready?” Yoshi says, holding out his hand.
Lark is going to freak out if she sees us holding hands. Even though we’re not really holding hands. He just held out his hand. Totally different. But still …
I put my hand in his, his palm smooth and cool while I think mine is a little warm and sweaty. We kind of shake on it, then pull our hands back.
Um, awkward?
I quickly knock on Lark’s door. I’d texted her before, explaining that Yoshi and I had ideas for the festival, and she’d said it was fine for us to come over. But I hadn’t told her that Yoshi and I had hung out last night. That’s for later.
“Hey, guys!” Soleil says as she opens the door.
She ushers us in and we step inside. Lark is sitting in the living room, playing a game on her phone. When she sees me and Yoshi, she smiles and waves, but I can feel a slight distance in her manner. Why? This is so weird.
Soleil claps her hands. “I hear you guys have a proposal for me.”
While her smile is bright, the dark circles under her eyes are more prominent, and the concealer she dabbed on is clearly not doing an adequate job covering them up. I want to tell her it’s no problem, that actually, we don’t want to rock the boat. But then I remember the inn and the possibility that Mom may have to sell it. And I forge ahead.
“We hope you like it,” I say instead. “We know you guys will do what’s best for the town, and we just wanted to help out.”
I can feel Yoshi’s presence beside me, and I wonder if he’s going to interrupt, take over, since I seem to be failing at sounding convincing. But he remains silent, and I’m grateful for that.
“Thanks, hon,” Soleil says, pulling me into a familiar hug. “Now, tell me all about your idea.”
The wait outside the council meeting is almost enough to drive me crazy. Lark, Yoshi, Kyle, Marcus, and I sit on chairs in the drafty corridor of our town hall building. On the other side of the big wooden door, the council is talking.
I wring my hands. Despite all the ideas that we’ve generated and all the planning we’ve already done … they could still say no. They could still decide to cancel everything.
Plus, Marcus isn’t speaking to me because he’s annoyed that he wasn’t part of the planning meetings Yoshi and I had. I told him that it wasn’t a big deal, that it was just the two of us talking, that Lark and Kyle weren’t there, either, but he was unmoved.
And Lark is still being kind of cold.
Which is just what I need.
“Stop biting your nails,” Lark says, and I drop my hand. Just like the other six times she mentioned it. We’ve made a deal that we won’t talk about the festival until we hear their decision, but for the life of me, I can’t find anything else to talk about.
They’re deciding on the fate of the festival as we sit here. My mom’s in there. Maayan is in there. But I’m stuck out here.
I pull out my phone.
Mia Buchanan: This is so painful.
I don’t glance up. I don’t move.
Yoshi Pennington: TOTALLY.
Mia Buchanan: Stop shouting, they’re going to hear you inside and know we’re out here.
A slight scoffing sound comes from Yoshi’s direction. I stare at my phone, trying not to laugh.
Yoshi Pennington: You’re right. I’m sorry. *shrugs*
Mia Buchanan: Tell me a story.
Yoshi Pennington: Like a fairy tale?
I start to shake my head and then freeze. Everything needs to be communicated in text.
Mia Buchanan: No. Tell me a real story. Tell me something that most people don’t know.
I don’t dare glance up. I stare at the phone in my hands instead. Finally, I see the dots signaling that he’s typing, and I let the air trapped in my lungs out. Slowly.
Yoshi Pennington: Hmmm. OK. I think I have something.
I wait and my breathing goes shallow for a long moment. Everything else seems to disappear: the council meeting, Marcus, Lark, and Kyle sitting around us.
Mia Buchanan: Tell me.
It’s like, even though we’re in public and with other people, we aren’t. We’re alone.
Yoshi Pennington: When my parents announced we were moving, I was furious. I didn’t want to come here. I tried to convince them that I could live with my best friend, Paz.
Mia Buchanan: I get that more than you know. Do you still feel that way?
Yoshi Pennington: Not really. I was really worried that it would be hard to make friends because people here would be so different. But truthfully, now the only thing I’m kind of scared of is the snow coming. Which I know is the opposite of how I should be feeling. Given the festival and all. But the thing is, I’m used to being good at outdoorsy things and … I don’t know how to skate or how to ski. I’m worried that I won’t be able to do the stuff you guys have been doing since you were babies. It’s hard being an outsider. I feel like I finally fit in, but … I’m scared that will change.
I want to turn and face him. I want to walk over to where he’s sitting, a couple of seats down, and move his bag off the chair beside him and tell him that it will be okay. But I can’t. This game we’re playing has rules, even if they’re unspoken.
Mia Buchanan: You haven’t lived here that long, but you’re one of us now. We won’t let you feel left out. We’ll help you.
“Mia,” Lark says, tugging my arm. “Maayan just said we should come inside.”
For a long moment, I have no idea what she’s talking about, and then I remember the council meeting and the festival. I can’t believe I was so wrapped up in texting Yoshi that I didn’t notice Maayan peeking her head out the door.
But strangely, I wish the council could continue without us for another few minutes, maybe an hour even, so I could keep texting with Yoshi. I want to make sure he knows he’s part of our circle, and we won’t let him feel like an outsider.
Lark and the others stand up, gathering their things.
“Give me a sec,” I say to Lark. “I just need to …”
Mia Buchanan: I promise, OK?
I press SEND and wait to see the typing dots. I should turn my head and see if he’s even still sitting there, if he’s walking toward the doors. But I can’t. I can only stare at the small screen and hope …
Yoshi Pennington: Thank you. *smiley face*
I don’t even try to hide the massive grin that’s taken over my face. Shoving my phone into my pocket, I turn to Lark.
“For someone who is so invested in the festival, you really don’t seem to care that much what the decision is,” Lark says, and I startle at the anger in her voice.
“I care.” I know I’m acting defensive, but I feel like I’m under attack.
“Well, then, stop flirting w
ith Yoshi and let’s get this over with.”
I flinch. This is a different Lark than the one I know so well. Sure, she’s often anxious these days because of the stress on her mom, but this feels like something else. She’s a few steps in front of me before I find my voice. “How did you even know—”
She turns and treats me to an eye roll. “First, it was totally obvious just by looking at you guys. And second? It was just as hard to get Yoshi’s attention as yours. You guys were glued to whatever was happening on your phones.”
“I … um …” It’s hard to even form words right now. How can I describe what’s going on?
“Whatever. You’ll tell me when you need me.” And then she walks more quickly than I’ve ever seen her walk, just to get away from me.
I follow behind, swallowing hard.
* * *
There are twelve people on the city council, plus Soleil, but the noise they make could rival our cafeteria on a good day.
“Is it always like this?” I whisper to Lark before I remember what just happened in the corridor. She shrugs. Her eyes are fixed on her mom sitting at the end of the table, her back rounded in exhaustion. Miss Marks from the bank and Mr. Han, my old dance teacher, are both standing in front of her and they’re practically shouting.
On the other side of the room, Maayan is being harangued by Bari from the bakery.
I find my mom on the left side of the table and she gives me a small smile, but apart from that little positive facial movement, I’m not getting any vibes from anyone else around the table. Mostly since they don’t seem to be paying attention to us.
I’m glad I opted to wear my brown corduroy skirt and teal sweater because at least I look presentable.
When Soleil finally sees us, she puts on a broad smile. But I don’t think it’s fooling anyone. She motions for us to sit on the outskirts of the table and then bangs her gavel on a pad. It takes a few times before everyone stops talking.
“As I mentioned before the break,” Soleil says when everyone is seated, “I wanted to invite the seventh-grade student council into the final part of the meeting since they’ve also been working so hard on the festival. They came to me this afternoon with plans that made it clear they’re every bit as concerned with the fate of the festival as we are, and are invested in finding a solution. I’m sure you all know Mia Buchanan, Marcus Andelman, Yoshiki Pennington, Kyle Jones, and my daughter, Lark Mapp-Jefferson.”
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