Forever by Judy Blume Page A

me.
    â€œI’m glad.”
    â€œI want to hold you all night.”
    â€œI want you to.”
    We slept with our arms around each other till Ike’s voice woke us up
     in the morning.

9
    It was a sunny cold day, but not windy. Michael said it was perfect for
     skiing. I got dressed in my long underwear, turtleneck shirt, ski pants, sweater, two
     pairs of socks and snow boots. I could hardly move.
    Sharon was still asleep but Ike had breakfast on the table—cereal,
     eggs and buns. “No raisins,” Michael said, passing the plate to me.
    â€œHow’d you know I don’t like raisins?”
    â€œNew Year’s Day . . . remember?”
    â€œOh, that . . .” I said, picturing myself at Sybil’s
     table, picking raisins out of a bun. “You have a good memory.”
    â€œFor some things,” Michael said and he smiled.
    After breakfast Ike gave Michael the car keys and told him to drive me
     into town to rent my equipment. “Their prices are better than at the lodge. With a
     little luck Sharon should be ready to go when you get back.”
    We went to the Alpine Ski Shop. When Michael was finally satisfied that I
     had the right size boots he showed mehow to work the buckles and
     also how to walk in them without killing myself, which wasn’t easy.
    Sharon was dressed and ready to go when we got back to the house. From
     there it was just a short ride to the slopes. They had season tickets and Michael bought
     mine. When I saw the prices I said, “I never knew skiing was such an expensive
     sport.”
    â€œThat’s its only drawback,” Michael told me.
    â€œLet’s go to the Ladies’ Room before we get our skis
     on,” Sharon said. “It’s such a pain to have to come in before
     lunch.”
    I followed her into the lodge and downstairs. We both used the toilets.
     While we were washing our hands Sharon said that the reason so many beginners hurt
     themselves is because they try to learn to ski themselves. “I just want you to
     know that Michael is a qualified instructor . . . otherwise Ike and I would insist that
     you take class lessons.”
    â€œHe’s really that good?”
    â€œJust wait till you see him in action.”
    I smiled. Sharon caught on and laughed. “I meant skiing
     action,” she said.
    â€œI know it.”
    â€œMy brother’s a very nice boy, isn’t he?”
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œBut he seems so . . . well . . . vulnerable.”
    â€œHow do you mean?”
    â€œOh . . . he’s so open . . . I wouldn’t want to see him
     get hurt.”
    She didn’t look at me when she said that. She
     looked into the mirror and rubbed some kind of ointment on her lips. I didn’t know
     what to say to her after that. Did she think Michael would get hurt because of me? Did
     she think I was just using him or what?
    â€œWell . . . let’s get going.” Sharon put the tube of
     ointment into her pocket. “And Katherine . . .”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI’m sorry if I sounded like a mother hen just now . . .
     I’ve really got to stop worrying about Michael. After all, he’s all grown
     up, isn’t he?”
    â€œYes,” I said, “he is.” It’s funny that
     Sharon worries about Michael in the same way that my father worries about me.
    We went upstairs, found Michael and Ike waiting outside, and arranged to
     meet at the lodge at noon. Sharon and Ike went off to ski the more difficult slopes.
    Michael got me onto my skis. They were very short and hardly stuck out at
     all behind me. He said it’s much easier to learn with the short kind and as I
     improve I’ll get longer ones. I didn’t think that would be likely.
    â€œFirst one foot and then the other,” Michael said, as I tried
     to walk. But I got tangled up and