“I tried to go after you when you left school, but you were going too fast,” she explains.
“Oh.” So she did come after me. “Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
There’s silence.
“I’m really sorry I said all those things in the cafeteria,” Lark starts.
“No, I’m sorry—”
Lark puts her hand up. “Mia, let me talk.”
I nod.
“I’m sorry I freaked out on you,” Lark continues. “The truth is, I’ve been frustrated, and I let everything build up, and then I just exploded all over the place.”
“Frustrated with me?” My stomach hollows as I wait for her to say no, that it has nothing to do with me. But she doesn’t shake her head. She nods.
“You’re my best friend in the whole world,” she says, and now it’s her eyes that are filling with tears. “But I feel like over the past couple of weeks, you’ve been so focused on the festival and on Yoshi, and I don’t know where I fit in all that.”
I frown. I want to tell her that she always fits in everywhere. “I know I have been distracted,” I say. “But mostly it’s because I’ve been terrified Mom and Thierry were going to sell the inn,” I explain. “I thought if I could save the festival, that maybe I could save the inn.”
Lark blinks rapidly. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because somehow I thought if I did, it would make it more real.” I shrug. “Plus, it never seemed like the right time.”
“You can always tell me anything,” Lark insists. She frowns, looking really worried. “So are they gonna sell the inn?”
I shake my head. “It turns out that they were thinking about it, but they aren’t going to right now.”
Lark nods, relief crossing her face. “So we’ve both been worrying about our moms,” she says with a chuckle.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say.
“It’s okay,” Lark says. “I’m sorry I was being weird all this time.” She bites on her bottom lip.
I feel like she still hasn’t told me about the bigger issue, the one that’s harder to talk about. “What else has been frustrating you?” I ask.
Lark stretches her neck from side to side. “It’s about Yoshi,” she says at last.
My stomach flips over. “Yoshi?” I echo. Wait. Does Lark like Yoshi? Have I been totally blind to that fact? Oh God. What if she does, and she’s been jealous and—
“I don’t like him!” Lark clarifies, because she’s always sort of been able to read my mind. She gives me a smile and an eye roll, and I relax somewhat. “It’s more that … I suddenly felt like you were moving on without me. Because of Yoshi.”
“B-but—” I splutter, confused. “You were always the one telling me to admit to Yoshi how I felt! Not that I’ve done that,” I amend. “But I thought you, I don’t know … supported my crush?” I laugh, because it sounds silly.
“I do,” Lark insists, her eyes wide. “It’s just that, when you and Yoshi actually started spending all this time together, and you started having these intense feelings … it made me feel kind of down about myself. Because I don’t feel like that about anybody.”
“I keep telling you that Kyle likes you.” I take Lark’s hands from her lap and put them between mine.
“I know that Kyle likes me. We’ve talked about it.”
“Wait. You have?” I’m about to drop Lark’s hands, but then I don’t.
“Yes. And it’s super awkward because I really like him, but I don’t like him like that. I don’t really know what ‘like that’ even means.”
“But maybe you could—”
“But I don’t want to,” Lark says, this time more emphatically. “If I told you Marcus liked you, would you turn around and like him back?”
I shake my head.
“It’s the same thing. I like Kyle a lot, but I don’t want him to like me as more than a friend. Because it makes me feel guilty that I don’t feel the same way.”
“Oh.” I can’t believe I didn’t think of it like that. Especially since it’s exactly what I’ve been worried would happen between me and Yoshi. “I guess I just thought that it would be so perfect if you liked Kyle and I liked Yoshi and then—”
“And that’s the problem.” Lark slips her hands from mine, and I reach to get them back, but she shakes her head. “Sorry, but your hands are getting sweaty.”
I laugh. It’s the first totally normal thing she’s said.
“I know it would be easier if we were both going through the same thing at the same time,” Lark goes on, “but I can’t pretend to have a crush on someone just because I want to be the same as you. Which doesn’t mean that you can’t like Yoshi. Obviously you can. But I need you to remember when you talk about it that we’re not going through the same thing.”
“I will remember that,” I say. “Thank you for explaining everything.” I place my arm around Lark’s shoulders and pull her into a hug. “I was scared you didn’t want to be friends with me anymore.”
“Oh, please. You couldn’t lose me if you tried. You’re stuck with me.”
“Promise?” I say as Mom comes into the sitting room.
“Promise,” Lark says, hugging me back tightly.
“Sorry to interrupt, girls,” Mom says then. “Anyone in the mood for Thierry’s chili?”
There’s no question that Lark and I are totally on the same page about Thierry’s chili.
When I wake up the next morning and look out my window, I’m greeted by a sight that is so unbelievable, I have to blink several times. After weeks of hoping to wake up to snow, I didn’t really think it would happen.
But it’s snowing outside. Big fat flakes, the ones that create light and airy snowdrifts that you sink into, are falling from the sky. It’s the picturesque type of snow, the kind where you can see each flake individually, like everything is moving in slow motion.
It’s the perfect Vermont snow.
Except … What does it mean for the festival?
Mom knocks on my door and sticks her head in the room.
“You’re awake. Good.” She takes a few steps in, her smile wide. “I guess you’ve seen the weather.”
“Yup.” I grab my phone. “I should call Lark. See what Soleil is saying.”
Mom leans against my doorframe. “I just heard from Soleil, actually. The town council is asking people to meet at the Market Square by nine o’clock. I need to stay here because we have guests on their way, but I can imagine there’ll be a lot to do. Maayan can update you when you get down there.”
I glance at the time on my phone. Since it’s winter break, I haven’t been doing my elaborate alarm setups, so I’ve been sleeping late. And now it’s five minutes to nine!
I don’t think I’ve ever gotten ready so fast. There’s gorgeous snow outside, and we have a festival to set up—and only one day to do it.
* * *
It feels like the entire town is assembled in the Market Square. Snow is still falling, coating the ground and everyone’s jackets, hats, and scarves.
I push my way through the crowds, and I find Lark up front, near Anaya Sodhi, who is holding a bullhorn.
“Good, you made it,” Lark whispers to me. “My mom said she called your mom.”
I nod and focus on what Anaya is saying.
“If you’re working on the ski races, meet Mr. Han in front of the bakery,” she says through the bullhorn. “You will get your instructions there.”
“I thought you wanted the people setting up for the craft fair to meet at the bakery,” Mrs. Sollinger shouts. I catch Lark’s eye and we grin. Trust Mrs. Sollinger to notice these things.
“Those volunteers aren’t due to arrive for another hour,” Anaya says. “But thank you for your concern.”
Lark and I start to giggle. As I watch the crowds get organized, my heart swells with pride. There’s something so special about this quirky little town that drives itself crazy trying to crea
te a festival dedicated to snow.
Just then I notice Marcus and Kyle making their way toward us, closely followed by Yoshi. He’s wearing an amazingly stylish pair of blue, green, and yellow snow pants, with a matching jacket. He doesn’t seem to have spotted us yet because he’s focusing so hard on not toppling over. I remember how we left things yesterday at the school gym, and I tense up.
“I can hear your heart beating out of control from over here,” Lark whispers, and I put my arm around her shoulders.
Before the boys can reach us, Maayan appears at our side, wearing cute earmuffs and listening intently to Anaya.
“Snowshoe Race folks, you’re meeting at the corner of Maple and Foster!” Anaya calls. “If you have your white lights for wrapping trees, bring them to the volunteers. If you want them back, please make sure to put your name on them.”
“We’re still doing the Flurry Trees?” I ask Maayan, and she winks.
“Oh, we’re doing a ton of things.”
* * *
Marcus, Kyle, and Yoshi finally reach us—Yoshi still looking unsteady on his feet—and Maayan explains everything to us. Basically, the town council decided to keep all the events: old and new. So store windows are still being decorated with snowflakes, and trees are still being wrapped in white lights, even though there’s already a good several inches of snow on the ground.
Most importantly, the Snow Carnival is still on. But only if we feel we can run both the carnival and Snowman Building.
“We get to do both?” I swallow hard.
“Do you think you can handle both?” Maayan asks.
I glance at my committee around me.
“What do you guys say?” I ask them.
“I say we do both,” Marcus shouts before anyone else can respond. I grin.
“I’m in,” Kyle says.
“Lark?” I ask, and my BFF looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Of course.”
“Yoshi?” I glance at him, feeling awkward. I wish we could have a moment alone to talk about what happened yesterday.
“Happy to help,” he says, but he doesn’t actually seem that happy.
I need to fix this.
“Great,” Maayan says. “And there are two pieces of good news. One is that, due to the unexpected weather changes, the council decided that you won’t need to open either event until Saturday morning. Tomorrow—Friday—will just be for the ski races and the food trucks and craft fair.”
“Whew,” I say. We could definitely use the extra time.
“The other good news?” Maayan goes on, waving over a group of kids nearby. “I’ve got a crew of eighth graders who can help out. With the understanding that you guys are in charge.”
We’re in charge of eighth graders? This might be the best day ever. If only things felt right with Yoshi …
Okay. Time to focus. First, festival.
I decide that we’ll split into two groups to handle the two different events, and I’ll go back and forth between each one.
“Yoshi and Marcus, can you guys lead the team for the Snow Carnival?” I ask. “Kyle and Lark, can you handle Snowman Building?”
Everyone nods. Yoshi and Marcus head off to their station, joining the eighth-grade volunteers.
“Is that okay with you?” I whisper to Lark while Kyle is busy talking to Maayan.
“Totally fine,” she whispers back. “It’s good to be partners with someone who knows exactly what I need help with and what I can do on my own. Less explaining for me.”
“Sounds good.” I grin. “Have fun, and don’t be too bossy with the eighth graders.”
“It’s a good thing I love you,” she shouts at me over her shoulder, heading toward Kyle.
“I love you, too!” I yell after her.
I go to check on Marcus and Yoshi, who are still waiting for the paint to dry on the various booths. We work together to create the chalet village, which is totally adorable and will be a huge hit. And then we mark out all the places where the booths need to be placed to make sure there’s enough room for the different carnival events. It isn’t until it’s almost dark that we’re able to move the booths into the space. But it looks so amazing. Better than I could have dreamed.
“You did this,” I tell Yoshi as we walk over to check on Kyle and Lark and the Snowman Building station. Marcus has stayed behind with the booths to perfect everything.
“We all did,” Yoshi says, his voice still quiet.
“No.” I shake my head. “You’re the one who offered to help from the get-go, who talked me through everything. You made me feel like it wasn’t impossible, like you believed that this could work. Tomorrow, when kids start coming to the Snow Carnival, you should remind yourself that you did this. You’re an essential part of Flurry.”
Yoshi stops walking and turns to face me. “You don’t need to say that.” His eyes are serious, none of the lightness I’m used to seeing there. I want to tell him that I like him, that I like him more than a friend and it’s okay if he doesn’t like me like that. That I want him to know that he’s amazing.
But first, there are more important things to say. “I’m really sorry I freaked out on you yesterday in the cafeteria. It wasn’t right.”
Yoshi stares down. “It’s okay,” he finally says. “Do you mind if we sit for a minute? Or should we first go to Snowman Building and make sure everything is done there?”
“Nah,” I say, walking the few steps to a snow-covered bench. “Lark and Kyle can totally handle it.”
We both brush off the snow with our gloves and then plop onto the bench. The snowflakes are still falling gently all around us.
“The snow is really pretty,” Yoshi admits. “I can see why people are so into it.”
I giggle. “It is.”
Yoshi falls quiet again. Even though I’ve only known him for a few months, I know now that this is his way to tell a story. Whereas I burst out with everything at once, a wild torrent, Yoshi pauses before he says something important. Like he first wants to think it through, examine every angle before he commits it to words.
“I wasn’t totally honest when I told people why we moved here,” Yoshi starts. “We did move because Mom got a job, but that wasn’t the main reason.”
His eyes flicker to mine, and I nod for him to go on.
“My dad was a big deal at the TV station where he worked. He was known for his silly jokes, his weather ties, the costumes he’d wear. He used to be on the late news, but they actually moved him earlier because he was so popular. But the thing is, you can have all the gimmicks and tricks you want, but what you’re ultimately judged on is correctly predicting the weather. Especially in Southern California, where there are so many severe weather incidents.”
I realize that I’m holding my breath and try to let the air out slowly.
“All meteorologists make mistakes about the weather. You can’t control the storm patterns, it’s nature. But Dad felt all this pressure to get it right. All the time. He started taking it really hard when it was wrong, when he’d hear about outdoor festivals that got rained out when he said the chance of rain was low. The times the temperature reached dangerous highs and he hadn’t told viewers to stay out of the sun. He started being extra cautious with his predictions so it wouldn’t upset people. It’s easier for people to deal with sunshine instead of rain than rain instead of sunshine.”
“But that stuff isn’t his fault.” I can’t help it. It’s ridiculous to take the blame for the weather.
“You’re right.” He shrugs. “It’s what everyone said. Nobody was mad at him. Well, except for the dumb people who wrote letters to the station complaining about their three-year-old’s ruined birthday party.”
My stomach tightens. “Doesn’t he know that you’re never supposed to read that stuff?”
“He does now.”
I don’t know why I thought that Yoshi was so laid-back about everything. Right now, he is anything but. I guess there are layers to him, just like there are
to everyone. He’s more than just a chill California boy.
“Is that why you guys moved here?” I ask.
Yoshi uses his glove to sweep away some of the snow that has drifted onto his lap. “Dad stopped going to work for a while after a wildfire started because of a lightning strike. It was too stressful. Southern California needed rain, and he was basically going crazy trying to find evidence that the rain was coming. And then, he just stopped leaving the house.”
I press my palms against my legs to stop myself from doing something dumb. Like leaning over and hugging Yoshi.
“So I think part of the reason my parents chose to move to Flurry was because it would be a lower-stress job for him,” Yoshi goes on. “I mean, what could be difficult about predicting snow or no snow? Except this year, all the town can talk about is the weather. People come and ask him about it on the street.”
Yoshi’s voice is still quiet. I think of all the times I’ve made comments about why his dad couldn’t make better predictions.
“I’m so sorry.”
Yoshi doesn’t look up at me. “You didn’t know. Maybe if I’d told you, you’d understand why I get so sensitive about these things.”
For the millionth time, I wonder when I’m going to learn what Thierry always says: Everyone is dealing with their own heartaches and their own troubles, and just because they’re smiling, doesn’t mean they’re okay.
“I promise to do better,” I tell Yoshi.
“Thanks.” He shrugs, and this time he looks at me and smiles. “So. I can’t wait to see this festival in action.”
“It’s going to be epic.”
We stand up. My heart feels very full. Together, we walk toward the Snowman Building booth. There’s still lots to do, and tomorrow will be here before we know it.
I almost miss the opening of Flurry’s Winter Festival because we’re so busy at the inn. All of our rooms are full. Nobody canceled. Even the McAllistairs showed up. In the morning, I help Thierry in the kitchen, washing dishes and organizing the food based on when it will be served. By the time I’m done, I have to run over to our cottage to get dressed for the festival.
Snow fell all through the night, and it’s still flurrying lightly. I put on my warmest jeans, my gray henley, a thick wool sweater, two pairs of socks, and snow boots. All set.
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