There’s a smattering of applause. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, feeling nervous.
Soleil turns to us. “First, I wanted to let you all know where we’re at in our discussions.” She pauses, and there’s tension in the air. Several people are staring down, and others have their arms crossed in front of them.
Tough crowd.
“The council has voted not to cancel the festival.”
I want to whoop and cheer, but that’s clearly not the right reaction, considering that most people in the room appear unhappy.
“The council felt that we’re too close to the festival, timewise, and that many people would be arriving whether we keep the festival or not,” Soleil continues. “We determined that it would have a negative impact if visitors got here and found that there was nothing going on.”
Okay, it’s not a raging declaration of faith, but I’ll take it.
She turns back to the council. “As I mentioned to some of you, these seventh graders presented me with a plan for saving the festival that was very similar to the one Anaya Sodhi gave on behalf of the festival committee.” Soleil nods to Anaya, the lady who owns the town’s best clothing boutique. “Just so you guys know,” Soleil says, turning back to us, “we’ve decided to put in place a number of those ideas. The ice skating, ice fishing, and ice sculpture competition can all remain, as they don’t depend on snow. The same goes for the food trucks and snack stands, of course. We will be moving the sled building to the civic center, and the craft fair will remain in the Hopkins Mansion.”
I sneak a glance at Yoshi, but I can’t read his face. I think this is all good news, but who can be sure?
“We’re canceling snowshoeing and replacing it with some hiking options. Your suggestion of offering rock climbing was an interesting one, but apparently it’s too cold for regular rock climbing and there isn’t enough ice for ice climbing.” Soleil gives Lark a small frown, and Lark nods understandingly. “We’ve discussed moving the cross-country skiing to the Top of the Mountain, since they make their own snow. That will likely happen, which will be great.”
I clench my stomach muscles. I feel like there’s a but coming.
“Unfortunately, some of our favorite activities will have to be canceled unless we miraculously see a huge snowfall.” This time Soleil is staring into the middle of the table, like she’s not happy making eye contact with anyone. “We have no way of replacing the Igloo Making competition or the final town-wide snowball fight. We’re not even sure that we can do the cross-country skiing marathon. And, two things that will affect these students the most: We won’t be able to have Snowman Building. And we won’t be able to have the customary sleigh ride for the junior festival coordinator.”
My stomach sinks. I know I should be grateful that we’re having the festival at all. That’s what’s ultimately important. But we were so excited for the Snowman Building.
And if there’s no sleigh ride, how will I get the picture that will match the ones of Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa?
My eyes fill with tears, and I dig my nails into my palms. I almost reach for Lark, but then I don’t.
Soleil looks at me, Marcus, Kyle, Lark, and Yoshi. “The town council is well aware of how much work you all have put into the Snowman Building, and we’re hoping that work will make it easier for whoever is running the event next year.”
No event for us to run. No sleigh ride. It’s pretty much a disaster.
“What about the Snow Carnival?” I interrupt, springing to my feet. It’s only after the words are out of my mouth that I realize that as yet, nobody has interrupted Soleil, which probably means it’s against the rules. Oops.
Soleil gives me a sad smile. “We discussed the Snow Carnival idea,” she says slowly. “The council felt that there was too little time to properly plan—”
“But we can do it,” I interrupt again. There are murmurings of disapproval, but this is too important to risk losing. “We wrote up very extensive plans back in September, including diagrams and drawings.”
“But your plan involved the presence of snow,” Soleil points out.
Right. I’m about to sit down when Yoshi gets up out of his seat to stand beside me.
“Is it okay to jump in?” Yoshi says. Soleil and I nod. “Mia and I have gone through all the plans that the student council created and they can all actually work without snow. It’s just a matter of painting the different booths—”
“But we haven’t even approved the Snow Carnival booths. What if they’re not appropriate or safe?” Mr. Han demands.
I used to love Mr. Han as a dance teacher, but right now he’s at the bottom of my list of people I like.
“We can bring them to Mayor Mapp-Jefferson to review tonight,” I suggest, looking hopefully at Soleil.
Soleil shakes her head. “I’m afraid there’s too much to do with the festival changing this year. I can’t afford to take more time out to work with you guys.”
I know that she’s right, but I can’t believe Soleil would say that. I thought she loved talking with us about all our ideas.
“Can’t Maayan be our go-between?” Yoshi asks, nodding at our supervisor. “She’s been working with us all this time. She knows we’re dedicated and that we’re committed to succeeding. Maybe she can be in touch with someone on the council to make sure there’s nothing that could go wrong.”
“I don’t know …” Soleil says, turning to the council.
I feel like everything is slipping through our fingers, so I take one last chance. It’s probably a long shot but …
“The Snow Carnival isn’t just important because it gives us something to contribute,” I explain, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice. “Or because it’s the perfect activity for little kids to do at the festival. It’s important because it’s all about snow. If we are going to essentially have a snowless Flurry Winter Festival, then we need to find a way to still bring snow into it. There can be snowball tosses and snowball golf and snowball bowling. We can use giant cotton balls, for instance. So we’ll have snow there in some form. Does that make sense?”
I turn to the council and I see confused looks on their faces. Shoot. It didn’t work. I’m about to sit down, defeated, when Yoshi again comes to the rescue. “I think what Mia is trying to say is that the Snow Carnival brings in the appearance of snow, even when there’s no snow,” he says, raising his eyebrows at me in a supportive way. I nod gratefully. “And I know you all have so much on your plates right now and that I’ve never been to a Flurry Winter Festival before,” Yoshi goes on, smiling a little. “But we feel strongly about this. People will obviously know there’s no snow. We can’t pretend that it’s there. But we can create the memory of snow to replace the snow that is supposed to be there.”
“Say more about that, Yoshi,” Principal Diaz says. “Are you suggesting we make snow … decorations?”
I can’t tell if Principal Diaz thinks that’s a good idea or not, but I’m happy when Yoshi nods. “Well, maybe something a bit more sophisticated than decorations,” he says. “But it’s like the way things look like Christmas when you have the lights up. Or Hanukkah when menorahs are in the windows.”
I’m shocked when I see Marcus stand up. Maybe he’s going to argue that we shouldn’t be doing this at all. But then—
“I agree with Yoshi and Mia,” Marcus declares. “We need snow at this festival. If that means making paper snowflakes and hanging them around town, we should do it. Nobody is going to think we’re trying to pretend it’s actual snow, but at least we can all kind of admit that we miss the snow.”
It’s not until he sits down that I realize my mouth has been hanging open during Marcus’s entire speech. I glance over at Lark and she seems just as shocked.
And then Mom gets up. “I think we should bring this to a vote,” she starts. “We’ve been here a long time and it’s still a school night for these kids. But I do want to register my support for these ideas. First, I think we should allow them t
o work on the Snow Carnival, with Maayan reporting back to Anaya for her final approval.”
“That works for me,” Anaya chimes in.
“And second,” Mom continues, “we should think about how to work in the appearance of snow, even if the weather isn’t cooperating.”
“Who’s going to head up the decoration committee?” Principal Diaz asks.
I bristle a bit at the word decoration since that makes it seem frivolous. But that’s the least of my problems when Soleil looks to each council member, and they all shake their heads. I know each one of them has already been working on their own responsibilities at the festival, just as we have. But I wish—
“Would we be able to do it?” Marcus asks.
Once again, my jaw drops down. This is the most helpful Marcus has ever been about the festival. What changed?
“I think your committee has plenty on its plate,” Soleil says.
“Actually, we only have two more days of school left before winter break,” Marcus points out, “and we already planned most of the Snow Carnival back in September. With Mia in charge, we’ve become a pretty creative committee. You should see what Mia had planned for the Snowman Building event.”
I can feel my cheeks flush when everyone glances my way.
Soleil glances around the circle again. The council remains quiet, and I try to read their faces.
“Kids, I’m going to need to ask you to head back outside while we take our vote,” Soleil says. “Hopefully, it’ll only take a few minutes and then we can adjourn the meeting. Apparently, we all have a lot to do.”
* * *
I don’t know how to feel when the five of us are ushered back into the corridor. The festival is still on, I remind myself, no matter what. But everything else that I care about is up in the air. Well, except for the sleigh ride. That’s not happening for sure.
I chew on my bottom lip, glancing out the oversize windows that frame the corridor. The sky remains stubbornly clear. The ground remains stubbornly dry. Why can’t it snow?
“I wish your dad could just tell people it was going to snow,” I say to Yoshi.
He frowns at me. “I thought we talked about how my dad doesn’t make the weather happen, he just reports on it.”
I shake my head. “I know. I just mean that I’m sure it will snow eventually. And it would be so much easier if we weren’t so worried about when the snow will come. If your dad just says the snow is coming …”
“Except, as far as we know, it isn’t.” Yoshi’s tone is a little clipped.
“I know.” I take a few more steps to the window. I glance at Lark to see if she can jump in and help, but she’s busy talking to Kyle and Marcus. “Forget it. I’m not explaining myself properly.”
I can’t believe it was just last night that Yoshi and I were stuck at Dad’s house during the storm. There’s a big part of me that wishes I could go back to that moment. That moment when I wasn’t thinking about the festival because I had other things on my mind.
Then the door opens and Soleil comes out into the hallway.
“Guys?” she says to us. “The council has reached a decision on your proposal.”
I hold my breath, and then Soleil smiles.
“The council voted yes!” she exclaims. “We will have the Snow Carnival, and you guys can also be in charge of creating the non-snow snow.”
The five of us cheer, and Lark gives her mom a huge hug.
“Mrs. Gonzales is going to look into the insurance issues for the carnival booths, but I don’t think that will be a problem,” Soleil adds, squeezing Lark tightly. “And I will need you guys to really step up. Marcus, if you are serious about making a push on the decorations, I’m going to need your ideas by Tuesday, first thing. We’ll need time to gather the supplies and put them up.”
“I’m good with that,” Marcus says.
“Okay, lovely. Mia, you’ll continue to keep Maayan updated, and she’ll work with Anaya,” Soleil says with a nod.
Maayan is coming out into the corridor then, along with the rest of the council, including Mom. Maayan gives me a high five, and Mom smiles and puts her arm around me.
“Well done,” Mom whispers, and I feel a flutter of pride.
“You guys should go home,” Soleil tells me, Marcus, Kyle, and Yoshi. “You have a long couple of days ahead of you, and that’s even before the festival starts!”
“Let’s go home, too, Mom,” Lark says, and Soleil kisses her forehead.
“I need a few more minutes,” she says.
Lark frowns. “Mom, come on,” Lark implores. “You’ve been working late every night.”
It’s like her words take the wind right out of Soleil’s sails. “You’re right,” she says, her words muffled by a big yawn. “I’m definitely exhausted.”
Mom and I say good-bye to Soleil and Lark, and I wave to Marcus and Kyle. I try to look for Yoshi in the crowd, but I see he’s off to the side, talking to Principal Diaz.
“Mom, I just need to say one thing—”
“Mia, we’ve got to go. We’re short-staffed, Thierry is trying to manage everything on his own, and two guests checked in right before I left. It’s time to go home.” Her voice is firm, no room for negotiation.
She buttons her camel winter coat, lifting the collar around her neck to keep out the chill. Without glancing back at me, she begins to walk to the car, so I hurry after her.
It isn’t until I’m inside the car that I send a quick text to Yoshi.
Mia Buchanan: Sorry, I had to run. Mom needed to leave. But YAY! YAY! YAY!
A split second later, as though he was watching his phone as well, Yoshi texts back.
Yoshi Pennington: No problem! I saw your mom leading you away. I assume we’re going to start working on this tomorrow?
Mia Buchanan: DEFINITELY!
Yoshi Pennington: Ouch. Stop screaming.
Mia Buchanan: Hahahaha. OK, I need to go because I’m only allowed to sit in the front seat if I’m not on my phone. *eye roll* #momrules
Yoshi Pennington: NP. But, is everything OK with Lark?
Mia Buchanan: I think she’s worried about her mom. Why?
Yoshi Pennington: OK. I must have misread the situation.
I want to ask him more, but Mom takes my phone and puts it in her purse, so that means no phone until tomorrow. I want to argue, but it’s not worth it. Considering #momrules and all.
* * *
Monday passes in a rush. While Lark says she “isn’t mad at me,” she’s definitely giving off a frosty air. This frostiness only seems to worsen when I’m accosted by classmates brimming with ideas about the Snow Carnival and snow decorations. Apparently, word got around and everyone has an idea about fake snow. As Lark and I walk through the halls toward our student council meeting, I take out my notebook and pen so I can start to jot down the suggestions.
By the time Lark gives me her hundred thousandth eye roll, I kind of snap.
“I don’t get it,” I say. We stop in the middle of the hallway and face each other. “We’re supposed to be brainstorming. Your mom agreed to it!”
Lark scowls at me, dropping her bag on the ground like this might take a while. “Of course she did. It’s you. She loves you. That doesn’t mean your ideas are good!”
I reel back from the impact of her words, as if they were physical things she hit me with. “You don’t think my ideas are good?” I ask, hearing the hurt in my voice.
Lark closes her eyes. She leans against the locker behind her like maybe she’s sore or her muscles hurt.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
She nods, eyes still closed. She opens them slowly but doesn’t look in my direction.
“That’s not what I meant. It’s not that I think your ideas are bad,” she explains, her tone still tight. “It’s that my mom is so stressed out right now. She’s barely sleeping, worrying about what will happen with the festival. And maybe your ideas will work. And maybe they will be amazing. It’s just that sometimes
I wonder …”
Her voice dies down, and then she shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s all fine.”
“No, say it,” I whisper.
She glances up to the ceiling. I can’t even remember the last time Lark seemed this down. Sure, she gets tired out, that’s normal. Or she overworks her body. But she hasn’t seemed this defeated in a long time. Not since she had her operation, and in the months afterward, when she was so frustrated by her progress, by having to relearn all the things she already knew how to do. But I know this is something else.
She presses her lips together and then her eyes meet mine. “Sometimes I wonder if you really get how hard this is for my family. Mom is killing herself trying to make sure this year doesn’t bankrupt the town. And then you come in and you’re like, ‘What if we did this? What if we did that?’ Like it’s no big deal. Like someone can just do it in an evening and then we’ll all go back to school the next morning and magic elves will do all the work. But a lot of the work falls to my mom, and then it just creates stress for me at home, and …”
I take in all the words, all the feeling, and instead of arguing, I just nod. Because I get it. I do.
“I know your family is stressed, too, with the inn,” Lark says, meeting my gaze. I realize then that I haven’t even told her yet that we might be selling it. But now doesn’t seem like the best time.
I lean forward to take Lark’s hand. Her fingers are tiny, delicate. For someone who is so strong, her body is smaller than most, and I sometimes forget that. I forget that she needs her mom to be a mom and not just the mayor of the town.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and squeeze her hand.
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