Kissing Snowflakes

“Poor darlin’. I left her surrounded by a sea of tissues. Not much of a vacay, huh?” Ashley loved to abbreviate random words like that. Like I soon learned that “tote hilare” meant “totally hilarious” — one of her favorite phrases. As in “Did you see that dude in the spandex pants and the matching vest?! That was tote hilare!” Or “They serve Jell-O without cool whip on top! Isn’t that just tote hilare?!” Somehow with her southern lilt it worked. And she was the first person I’d ever met who could talk faster than me. It was fun to hear her chirp and tweet about the snow, the air, the beauty of it all.

When we got to the top of the lift and landed, she glided over to a ledge a little farther than I’d been before. Then she opened her arms and tilted her face up into the sun. “I just love it!” she sang. Her braids fell down her back, her lips smiling up into the sky. “C’mere, look at this!” she said.

I was going to tell her that I had a lot on my mind right now and maybe I would later, but she didn’t even wait for my response. “Come here!” She pulled me over to where she was standing. The whole city of West Lake lay below. And beyond that, miles and miles of mountains and plains.

“Wow,” I heard myself say.

“Yeah. Pretty phenom, huh?” she said. “Hard to find too many things wrong with the world when you see it from up here.”

She was right. Maybe I was taking myself a little too seriously. Nobody had died or anything. Phoebe was acting a little strange. I’d hear the whole story later. And I just needed to talk to Drew so we could get on the same page, too. I didn’t need this whole sex thing to ruin my good time. I vowed then and there to make the most of the day. Take in the fresh mountain air. See new bits of sky. And when we got down I would march over to Drew and I would look him square in those stu

Okay, maybe I’d come up with something shorter.

Ashley wanted to try the Basin Trail. She said it was supposed to be intermediate level, but there weren’t too many turns and at the bottom there was a basin with a little pond and sometimes kids from the neighborhood went ice-skating there.

“We have to walk a little ways to get there, but I promise it’s supposed to be tote delish.” Sounded good to me.

We made our way to the head of the trail and pushed off. I leaned forward, bending my knees, nose pointed straight ahead.

“Woo-hoo!” I heard Ashley yell below me.

“Woo-hoo!” I yelled back, the wind whipping my face. It felt great. My legs felt solid and sturdy. I followed the trail carefully, taking in deep breaths, smelling the firs, the bark, the cold. And then we emptied out into a beautiful opening. There was a circular pond, slick and white, with a handful of kids slipping and tripping around in lopsided circles. There were two mothers standing by the side, watching.

“So cute,” sighed Ashley.

“Mmm-hmmm,” I agreed.

“They look so free,” she said.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

We stood there and just watched. It felt so good and therapeutic to see their little bodies flailing and flopping, weebling and wobbling. They were having so much fun. They didn’t care what they looked like or if they were cool or if they were supposed to be something that they weren’t. They were just being. I had a lot to learn from them. I needed to just be okay with me the way that I was.

Okay. One thing I’m not good at is waiting.

I was sitting in the living room of the i

This is what happened. That afternoon, I had seen Drew leaving the chalet just as I was returning my skis. I ran after him.

“Hey!” (Me: panting, smiling brightly, determined.)

“Hey.” (Him: blank face, eyes shifty, but still frustratingly handsome.)

“Are you on your way somewhere?” (Me: still smiling, still determined.)

“Yup.” (Him: uninterested, taking out a ChapStick.)

“Well, I’d love to talk, if you want.” (Me: trying to remember global warming, nuclear proliferation, everything else more important and sadder than this moment.)

“Sure, yeah. Listen, I’m late.” (Him: walking away.)

“Well, do you want my number maybe?” (Me: determined. Not to cry.)

“I’ll just call the i

So I came back to the i

I tried Phoebe a bunch of times again before giving up and settling on the couch in the living room. It was pretty quiet there, actually. Jeremy and Aaron had gone out with some other guys to hear a local band, and Dad and Kathy had gone to bed early. There were a couple of other guests hanging around the fire and I briefly saw Eric and Phil cleaning up after supper, but besides that, I was mostly by myself, trying to figure out what I was going to say when (or if) either phone rang. So far, nothing. Except for one time I came back from the bathroom and there was a copy of Fra