Read Snowed In Online

Authors: Rachel Hawthorne

Tags: #Social Issues, #Love & Romance, #Juvenile Fiction, #Teenagers, #General, #Dating & Sex, #Snow, #Dating (Social Customs), #Moving; Household, #Fiction, #Friendship, #Great Lakes (North America), #Adolescence

Snowed In (3 page)

20

Most of our businesses rely on tourism, and since we don’t get many tourists in winter, some people will close up shop and head to sunnier places.” She laughed. “I sound like a Chamber of Commerce ad, don’t I?” She peered into another room. “So which one is going to be yours?”

“I don’t know.”

I went in the other direction, walking along the carpet that lined the floor. Quickly I looked into the four bedrooms on that end of the hallway.

The rooms had canopied beds and lots of lace and frills.

I figured this would be a popular floor for our guests, and I was looking for privacy. I’m not unfriendly, but I wasn’t sure how much I’d like living with strangers.

At the end of the hallway was another set of stairs.

“I’m going to check out the next floor,” I said.

“I’ll come with you,” she said as she followed me up the stairs.

On the next floor, we went in different direc-tions, looking in the various rooms. “These aren’t that much different from the ones on the floor below,” Nathalie said. “Is your mom going to let you fix up your room however you want?”

“I hope so.”

21

“Let me know if you want to paint it. My boyfriend and I can help you.”

That was
exactly
what I wanted—to be a third wheel.

My best friend, Tara, had recently hooked up with a guy, so I knew from experience that it isn’t fun hanging out with someone when the boyfriend’s around.

“Thanks, but I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet,” I told her.

At the other end of the hallway was yet another set of stairs. They were much narrower than any of the others. And they creaked more.

Halfway up was a small circular window that looked out on the frozen land and the surrounding lake. My new home.

The stairs ended. To my left was a door with an ornate glass doorknob that rattled when I turned it. As I opened the door, the hinges squeaked as if they were practicing to be the sound effects in a Hitchcock movie.

Sunlight filtered through the windows, but still the room was a little dim. I glanced around cautiously, looking for spiderwebs, but couldn’t see any.

I did see the light switch, though, so I flipped it on. It didn’t make a lot of difference. The four 22

bulbs in the tulip-shaped holders in the ceiling must have been about fifteen watts. But they made enough of a difference that I could see I’d discovered my haven.

When Mom and I arrived, I had noticed that one of the upper rooms had a rounded corner, a turret. This was it.

“Totally awesome!” Nathalie said. “I love this room!”

I was pretty crazy about it too. In the curved corner was a small sitting area. One side of the room had a window seat covered in pillows of various shades of pink. Vents along the floor blew in the warm air that had finally started circulating through the house after Mom turned on the heater downstairs. A brass bed with a lacy pink canopy caught my attention. So romantic. On either side of the bed were windows that looked out onto the front lawn, the lake, and the trees with their leafless branches covered in icicles and snow.

“I’ll bet this is where a servant slept,” she said.

“I think they always made them sleep in the attic.”

“Is this the attic?” I asked.

Shrugging, she sat on the window seat, brought her feet up to the pillows, and wrapped her arms around her legs. “You have
got
to have a sleepover up here.”

23

I sat on the bed. “Sleepover implies multiple friends.”

Her light blue eyes twinkled. “Hey, you’ve got me. And I have friends.”

“How many friends?”

She laughed. “What kind of a question is that?”

“Well, I researched the school . . . and there aren’t a lot of kids on the island. Back home, we had more than twelve hundred students in my junior class.”

She looked horrified. “I wouldn’t like that at all.”

“Well, see, that’s the thing. I don’t know if I’ll like being in such a small school.” It was the one part of Mom’s plan that I worried about. Would I fit in? Would the students accept someone who talked with a slight drawl and was severely challenged when it came to building a snowman? Would we have anything in common?

Cliques pretty much ran my old high school.

With so few students, could they have more than one clique?

More important, could you have a clique of only one person?

24

3

“You okay?” Nathalie asked.

“Oh, yeah, I was just . . .” How to explain?

“Mom and I talked about the move and I thought I was prepared, but now that I’m here, I’m a little worried about fitting in.” I laughed self-consciously.

“Bad time to have second thoughts.” It was a radical change in my lifestyle. Cold weather, so few people, no best friend to hook up with at a moment’s notice.

“Have you even had a chance to look the town over?” she asked.

“No. I’ve been on the island less than two hours.”

“Come on, then. I’ll show you around. That’ll make you feel better. I mean, it’s not like this is another planet or anything.”

We bundled up—or rather
I
bundled up. She just slipped on her coat, not even bothering to button it, and we headed out.

25

I came from an area of the country with a five-hundred page Mapsco, created to help people find their way through the maze of streets. Here they might have a five-page Mapsco, if that. Our inn is on Main Street, which is pretty much the
main
street. I’d never lived in a place where Main Street was still the main thoroughfare. Back home, Main was in the historic part of downtown, seldom used.

It was obvious that here the street name still held significance. It didn’t even have traffic lights.

When we got to an intersection, Nathalie pointed. “My street is one over. Come on, I’ll show you where I live.”

She turned up one block and then down another, which ran parallel to Main.

“Have you always lived here?” I asked.

“Since I was born.”

“It’s warmer in the summer, right?”

“Lots warmer. You can ride bikes around the island. Skip rocks across the lake.” She bumped up against me. “My boyfriend is the stone skipping champ. Thirty-two skips.”

“Wow. Is it official? I mean, is there a contest?”

“Oh, yeah. During the lilac festival. This place looks completely different once the lilacs bloom.” She stopped in front of a blue Victorian house.

“This is it. I can actually see the back of your house 26

from my bedroom window.”

“That’s cool. Guess that means I can see yours as well.”

“We could learn Morse code and send messages back and forth to each other.”

“I’d rather text message.”

She laughed. “I guess that would work too.” She spun on her heel. “Come on.”

We headed back to Main Street. The wind—or I should say the arctic blast—was whistling off the lake.

Whatever happened to global warming?

A horse-drawn sleigh passed by us, heading into what I suppose was considered downtown. I took out my cell phone, took a picture, and immediately sent it to Tara.

“That is so touristy,” Nathalie said, her voice chiding.

“Tara’s my best friend. I want her to see what I’m seeing. It’s kinda like a winter wonderland. So different from what we’re used to.”

“Still.” She shook her head.

“I shouldn’t take pictures?”

“Not if you want to fit in.”

Well, maybe I just wouldn’t take pictures when Nathalie was around, because it was really an amazing place. With so much snow piled up on the 27

sides of the road, I felt like I was walking through a Thomas Kinkade painting.

A few other people were out, some returning from downtown, some heading in that direction.

Each person said hi or waved as he or she passed.

They were all so friendly.

I suspected that everyone on this island knew everyone. I wondered if a time would ever come when I’d know everyone and everyone would know me. If so, how long would it take?

And would I ever get accustomed to how quiet everything was? Again, no cars, nothing to really make noise, except for the wind passing between houses or slipping through crevices. My nose was too cold to really smell anything, my hands too numb to feel anything.

As we walked along, eventually the houses stopped and buildings designed for commerce began.

I could tell that the street was tourist heaven during the warmer weather, but now many of the stores were closed. One had a sign on the door that read, WILL RETURN AFTER THE FIRST THAW.

I guessed that was a little bit of island humor.

“I know the island is famous for its fudge,” I said. “I’d love to get some. Will any of the shops be open?”

28

“You bet. See Sweet Temptations?” She pointed to a white two-story building. “That’s my family’s business.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Not so cool. I have to work with the most annoying guy, because his family is in partnership with mine.”

That wasn’t good news. I knew there weren’t many guys on the island and if one was already identified as a jerk . . . online dating was back on the agenda.

I didn’t know what to say except “Bummer.” She made a face, scrunching up her nose. “It’s not too bad during the winter, because one person can usually handle things. So we trade days, but during tourist season we both have to work.

Usually together.”

“What’s he do that’s so awful?”

“You’ll see.”

When we got to the shop, I looked in through the window and saw a guy about my age standing in front of a marble table, using a long-handled spatula to turn the fudge over and keep it from sliding off the end. Even from outside, I could smell the aroma of warm fudge.

“Is that him?” I asked.

29

“Yeah, that’s Chase.”

Too bad. Because he was really cute. The muscles in his arms were flexing as he moved the spatula.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? Who would want to date him?”

Maybe me?

Nothing serious, of course. But I did like to have fun, and guys were usually fun.

As we stepped inside, Chase glanced up. “Hey.” He had brown hair and eyes the same shade as the fudge he was stirring. And a killer smile.

“This is Ashleigh,” Nathalie said.

“Hey,” he said again. “I’m Chase.”

“I already told her who you were.”

“Well, I didn’t know that, now, did I?” He turned his attention back to me. “Want some fudge? All made fresh this morning.”

“Yeah, I do,” I said, bending down and looking in the case.

“You a fudgie?”

I glanced over my shoulder at him.

“I guess,” I answered. “I love fudge.”

“No, she’s not a fudgie,” Nathalie said to him, then to me, “A fudgie is what we call a tourist.” I laughed. “Oh.”
I have a lot to learn
, I thought.

30

Then Nathalie turned back to Chase. “They bought the Shoemakers’ place.”

“So you’re getting into the B&B business,” he said to me.

I couldn’t figure out what Nathalie found annoying. He seemed like a totally nice guy. And he was hot.

“My mom more than me,” I told him. “I’ll help where I can, but I’m really not sure how it’ll all work. It’s so new.”

“It’ll be an adventure,” he said.

“Like you know about adventure. Chase has been working here forever,” Nathalie said.

“Not literally forever,” Chase said. “First I had to learn how to walk and talk, and then I had to wait until I was tall enough to see over the counter—”

“He’s such a smart mouth,” Nathalie said, interrupting him. “So what kind of fudge do you want? I’ll get it for you.”

She walked around behind the counter, and I turned my attention back to the various choices.

“What do you recommend?”

“Depends on what you like,” Nathalie said.

“We’re famous for our marble walnut,” Chase said. “White and milk chocolate swirled together with nuts mixed in.”

31

I glanced over at him and smiled. Nathalie’s opinion of him baffled me. He wasn’t a jerk at all.

“That’s what I’ll try,” I said.

“How much do you want?” Nathalie asked.

“She’s new to the island. Give her a pound. My treat,” Chase said.

I felt my grin broaden. I never say no to free fudge. Especially when it comes from a hottie.

“Don’t be flattered,” Nathalie mumbled as she grabbed a tissue and then a hunk of chocolate. “He gives freebies to all the girls. It’s the only way he can get a date.”

I found that hard to believe. I figured he could have a date anytime he wanted. Of course, there were probably more choices in fudge than in girls on the island.

“Girls are like fudge,” Chase said, like he was reading my mind. “You have to sample them all before you settle on your favorite.” He winked at me. I felt an instant connection, because that was the exact same way I felt about dating.

My cheeks grew warm, and I wondered if it would make me look cheap—slutty even—to go out with Chase just to get free fudge. But then, I wanted to go out with him anyway, even without the freebie.

32

“You are so lame,” Nathalie muttered to Chase.

“Nathalie is so predictable,” he said to me. “Chocolate pecan. She never tries anything different.”

“Don’t have to, when you start out with the best,” Nathalie said.

Are we really talking about fudge here?
I wondered. Because it sure seemed to be a heated conversation if it was about candy.

Maybe because they worked together, they just got on each other’s nerves easily.

“I’ll pop some divinity in here too,” Nathalie said, putting the box of fudge and a small bag of divinity into a larger sack.

“Thanks,” I said, taking them from her. “Sure I can’t pay you for them?”

“We’re sure,” Chase said, before Nathalie could answer.

“Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

“Not literally anytime,” Nathalie said. “We are, after all, a business, and we’re supposed to be interested in making a profit.”

“She’s no fun,” Chase said. “I’ll bet you’re fun.” Were we flirting? Maybe we were flirting.

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