Griffin’s all-consuming attention and Lev’s curious absence. The flakes still fall, fat globs of pristine white so thick it appears to be raining. The flakes tumble in my hair and across my face. Although I have both coats, I shrug into Lev’s, taking comfort in the way it swallows me. I wish he were here.
Ahead, in the blanket of thick whiteness, I see kids throwing packed snowballs at each other and running around. The parking lot is no less a madhouse. More snowballs flying there. Around me, kids rush toward the whiteness, planning to join in the snowball fights. Griffin floats past and tugs my sleeve.
“You want to play?” he asks, rushing for the snow. Both Matt and Gail flank him on either side. As usual, Gail is watching, gauging Griffin’s interest. She is the first to pick up snow and crush it into a tight ball that she zings at Griffin. He’s fast, I realize, as he jumps to the side and waves a chiding finger at her.
“You’ve done it now!” Griffin reaches down and grabs a double handful of snow that he packs into his own large ball. Two seconds later he throws it at her. Gail sees it coming and turns her back just as the snow strikes. She squeals loudly and clumps another ball.
A white pack comes flying at me, striking my chest. I jump. Looking down, I realize from Matt’s wicked grin, he has thrown it. I brush the snow away.
“Hey, why don’t you leave it. It looks good on you. Besides, you don’t see this kind of snow in Texas. You might as well enjoy it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” My hands are cold, and I shove them into the coat pockets, still mesmerized by the fights which continue until Mr. Williams, strides outside the school and yells for all the kids to head home. Although I’m not exactly guilty of playing in the snow, he turns his stern frown on me.
“That includes you, Ms. Moon.”
“Yeah, all right,” I mutter, realizing that he’s still not over Jimmie’s butt chewing. Still, the mirror has been cleaned as if no words were ever written there, so he’s made good on at least part of his promise to Jimmie. I don’t know if he’s figured out who wrote it or not.
Mr. Williams gives me a warning glance then turns back to the kids who have finally quit throwing snow and head to their cars to drive home. Griffin gives me one last look. Then he turns toward the parking lot and heads off with Gail and Matt. I wonder if the three of them ever separate.
Once most of the cars have pulled out, I head to the Jeep, grateful to be among the last ones so nobody is watching me. I hate being watched. Thrusting the keys into the door, I unlock it and climb inside, trying to get most of the snow off before I slip my feet in. I should have worn boots. Some snow has seeped into my shoes and melted. My hands are red and cold because I didn’t wear gloves. One of these days I’ll dress appropriately.
I start the Jeep and shift to reverse when something thuds against my window. Jumping, I turn, expecting a snowball, not Lev. He motions for me to roll the window down.
“What...what are you doing here?” I ask.
“Keeping you out of trouble,” he pants, clearly having been running.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got a flat, Elizabeth. Your back tire is shot.”
“What?” I cut the engine and step out of the Jeep. Sure enough the tire is flat. “It was fine this morning.” I fold my arms across my chest, chilled.
“Nice jacket.” He winks.
“You should know. I have your other stuff in the Jeep.” Then we both turn back to the problem. I stare at the flat tire.
“Why don’t you go inside while I change it, okay? You’ll be warmer there.”
I start to argue, but judging from the way he pulls out the spare and starts working the jack, I think he’s more than got it covered without any help, or rather hindrance, from me.
“Go,” he says, nudging me toward the
Ahead, in the blanket of thick whiteness, I see kids throwing packed snowballs at each other and running around. The parking lot is no less a madhouse. More snowballs flying there. Around me, kids rush toward the whiteness, planning to join in the snowball fights. Griffin floats past and tugs my sleeve.
“You want to play?” he asks, rushing for the snow. Both Matt and Gail flank him on either side. As usual, Gail is watching, gauging Griffin’s interest. She is the first to pick up snow and crush it into a tight ball that she zings at Griffin. He’s fast, I realize, as he jumps to the side and waves a chiding finger at her.
“You’ve done it now!” Griffin reaches down and grabs a double handful of snow that he packs into his own large ball. Two seconds later he throws it at her. Gail sees it coming and turns her back just as the snow strikes. She squeals loudly and clumps another ball.
A white pack comes flying at me, striking my chest. I jump. Looking down, I realize from Matt’s wicked grin, he has thrown it. I brush the snow away.
“Hey, why don’t you leave it. It looks good on you. Besides, you don’t see this kind of snow in Texas. You might as well enjoy it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” My hands are cold, and I shove them into the coat pockets, still mesmerized by the fights which continue until Mr. Williams, strides outside the school and yells for all the kids to head home. Although I’m not exactly guilty of playing in the snow, he turns his stern frown on me.
“That includes you, Ms. Moon.”
“Yeah, all right,” I mutter, realizing that he’s still not over Jimmie’s butt chewing. Still, the mirror has been cleaned as if no words were ever written there, so he’s made good on at least part of his promise to Jimmie. I don’t know if he’s figured out who wrote it or not.
Mr. Williams gives me a warning glance then turns back to the kids who have finally quit throwing snow and head to their cars to drive home. Griffin gives me one last look. Then he turns toward the parking lot and heads off with Gail and Matt. I wonder if the three of them ever separate.
Once most of the cars have pulled out, I head to the Jeep, grateful to be among the last ones so nobody is watching me. I hate being watched. Thrusting the keys into the door, I unlock it and climb inside, trying to get most of the snow off before I slip my feet in. I should have worn boots. Some snow has seeped into my shoes and melted. My hands are red and cold because I didn’t wear gloves. One of these days I’ll dress appropriately.
I start the Jeep and shift to reverse when something thuds against my window. Jumping, I turn, expecting a snowball, not Lev. He motions for me to roll the window down.
“What...what are you doing here?” I ask.
“Keeping you out of trouble,” he pants, clearly having been running.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got a flat, Elizabeth. Your back tire is shot.”
“What?” I cut the engine and step out of the Jeep. Sure enough the tire is flat. “It was fine this morning.” I fold my arms across my chest, chilled.
“Nice jacket.” He winks.
“You should know. I have your other stuff in the Jeep.” Then we both turn back to the problem. I stare at the flat tire.
“Why don’t you go inside while I change it, okay? You’ll be warmer there.”
I start to argue, but judging from the way he pulls out the spare and starts working the jack, I think he’s more than got it covered without any help, or rather hindrance, from me.
“Go,” he says, nudging me toward the
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