“I know—”
“Are we—?”
I wasn’t sure what this meant or what would happen tomorrow. All I knew was that right now, kissing Will was the best idea in the world.
So I kissed him again.
The snow fell around us like a dream and it didn’t feel real, spending this night with Will, a boy I’d barely known less than a year ago, who had since become someone I couldn’t
imagine life without. He took my hand and pulled me along through another drift and I thought about the crystal heart. When he stopped and drew me close again, I took it from the pocket of my jacket and slipped it into his, wondering if he’d find it later and know it was mine. He put his arms around my waist and I wrapped mine high around his neck, pressing my lips against his in another kiss, and I was utterly and perfectly happy.
After Will left, I went back to bed. I couldn’t sleep and for the first hour I lay there, curled up under my down comforter, eyes closed, going over every single kiss, wanting to pinch myself. Between the snow and the quiet and the dark and the beauty and the surprise it felt like maybe I’d imagined everything.
I fell asleep smiling.
When I woke, the sky bright with morning light and the snow tapering off, there was one more text from Will waiting for me. It was a photo he’d snapped of us. My arms were wrapped around his waist, his left arm pulling me close and the other holding the phone out to take the picture. Even then his eyes were on me, and I wasn’t looking at the camera at all. I was gazing up at him because I couldn’t tear myself away, which seemed about 100 percent right.
I looked like a girl in love.
I thought about how I’d given the crystal heart away to Will and knew with every fiber of my being that this was the right thing to do. My heart, the real one at the center of my living, breathing body, belonged to him.
LAST NITE
In the morning, when I entered the kitchen, Dad was working on his laptop at the table. The white light of snow against the glass door shone down on my father. He looked up from typing. “What’s the big smile for?”
I poured myself a cup of coffee, surprised Dad had made a pot on his own. “Oh, I don’t know, it might be the snow.” I felt giddy, so happy I might burst, and I was starving. “Do you want some breakfast?”
“Sure.”
“How about pancakes?”
“Whatever you’d like.”
I went in search of ingredients and came across a bag of chocolate chips in the cupboard. “Hmmm, we can have chocolate chip pancakes. There’s nothing like dessert for breakfast,” I said, and my father laughed. I took out a bowl, poured in the flour, and added a teaspoon of baking soda and some salt, and mixed everything together.
“You get more like your mother every day,” Dad said, shaking his head. “Chocolate chip pancakes after a snowstorm.”
I savored this compliment as I whisked the egg in a separate bowl, measured the buttermilk, and folded everything together, trying to smooth the flour into the mixture. With one hand I dribbled chocolate chips into the batter and began to ladle little round pancakes on the griddle.
“Did something happen, sweetheart? Something good?”
I stared at the round splotches of batter as they bubbled up from the heat. “Game two of the state championships is tonight and I’m going,” I said, and poked underneath a pancake to see if it was brown enough to turn.
Dad grinned. “So who’d you bribe for tickets?” he teased.
I rolled my eyes. “Will Doniger, like you didn’t already know.”
“I remember when I was your age and Lewis was playing in the championships. Those games were a lot of fun. I remember how your mother loved it when they got in fights. I’d have to pull her back down into her seat.”
“You and Mom went to hockey games?”
“Everyone in Lewis goes to hockey games, but your mother and I starting going to them our senior year, right around the time I was trying to convince her to date me.” He sat back in his chair, suddenly lost in thought. I waited for him to say something else about Mom, but he didn’t. One by one I flipped the pancakes. “You know,” Dad said after a while, “Will is having a phenomenal season. He’s been all over the sports section. That kid is good enough to go pro, I think.”
With the syrup and butter balanced in one hand, I brought a
plate piled high with pancakes over to the table. “Yeah. I’ve heard that, too,” I said with a smile. Then, Dad and I ate breakfast together like a normal family for the first time in almost a year.
When Will came to pick me up for the final game I was nervous.
“Hi,” we said together, our faces pressed close inside his truck. Quickly, we both looked away and laughed. I stole another glance at him, but his eyes were on the windshield. He was smiling.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” I said.
We took off, the wheels of the truck sending snow into the air as Will navigated the icy roads. When we arrived at the arena, I broke the silence. “I can’t believe this is the last time we’ll do this.”
“Me neither,” he said, and pulled into the parking lot. He stopped in front of the entrance to let me out.
“See you on the ice,” I said, and was about to hop down to the pavement, but before I could lose my nerve, I leaned over and planted a kiss on Will’s lips. At first he looked surprised but then he smiled. “Good luck,” I added, and left before he could respond, focusing on the sound of my boots crunching in the snow, my face bright red. I couldn’t stop grinning.
When the game was about to start and Will took off his helmet for the national anthem, there was a grin on his face, too.
All night, as the players crashed into the boards, my eyes followed Lewis jersey number six on the ice. The score stayed zerozero for most of the night, until well into the third period when Will checked another player hard and took off behind the puck. The crowd got to its feet as he raced toward the opposing team’s goal, then slapped the puck to a teammate who passed it right back. Will was almost on top of the goalie, both of them wrestling with the puck, shoving each other, their skates and legs and arms clashing hard. Then Will hit the puck straight into the back of the net and thousands of hands went high into the air, screaming and whistling and cheering and stomping.
Krupa squeezed my arm. “That was amazing.”
“I know,” I said, and wished with all my heart that I could bottle this happiness so I would be sure not to lose it again. I didn’t need the crystal heart around my neck any longer to remind me what it felt like to be in love.
Lewis ended their season as state champions.
Krupa, Kecia, and everyone else went ahead to the afterparty while I waited for Will with his family. Celebration was in the air and I couldn’t stand still. Will’s sister Emily was twirling around in circles. I focused my excess energy on braiding Jennifer’s long brown hair, weaving it so the locks that shone a lighter brown would stand out.
“Beautiful,” I told her as I twisted a rubber band around the end. This left me again with fidgeting hands and I grasped at the wooden lip along the boards, picking at the peeling red paint.
“You seem happy,” Mrs. Doniger remarked.
I smiled. “They won.”
“Will’s happy lately, too.”
I was trying to think of how to respond when Will emerged from the locker room. A part of me wanted to dash through the waiting parents and his teammates to see him.
Mrs. Doniger rushed forward. “I’m so proud of you,” she said to her son, and threw her arms around him. “Your father would be, too.”
He rested his chin on her head and blinked a few times. “Thanks, Mom.”
Mrs. Doniger pulled back, her eyes shining, and Jennifer and Emily squeezed between them. As much as this win must feel great, I also knew it must be bittersweet, too, to have played a season like Will had and not have his father there to witness it. After whispering something to his mother, Will came over to say hello.
“Congratulations,” I said.
“Thanks.” He shifted from one foot to the other. A puck lay on the ground between us and he kicked it against the boards, where it made a hollow thud. “So, you want to get out of here?”
“Are you sure? I mean, you should enjoy this. Take your time.”
“Well, if you want to stick around—”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’m ready if you are.”
“Then let’s go.” He turned and headed toward the back exit, only stopping to pick up his gear.
I followed, my heart pounding. “That could be worth money, you know.” I gestured at the hockey stick in Will’s left hand, and he gave me a curious look. “It won the state championship,” I said, and he laughed. Outside the air was cold and crisp and snowflakes floated lightly to the ground. Will’s keys jangled as we neared his truck, and the moment we disappeared around the passenger side he pulled me into a kiss. When we stopped to catch our breath, I noticed how he’d parked in a corner against a concrete wall. “You chose this spot on purpose, didn’t you?” I accused, but drew him toward me again before he could answer.
“Maybe,” he said after another while.
“That was smart thinking.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve barely been able to think about anything else.”
“Other than …” He waited for me to finish.
“Kissing you, dummy,” I said.
“Really?”
“You shouldn’t be that surprised,” I said.
He grinned. “I’m just glad to know we’re on the same page.”
“You, too?” I asked, and shivered.
He wrapped his arms tighter around me. “You’re cold.”
“I don’t think it’s the cold.”
“We should warm up inside the truck, and besides, we have to meet up with the team at the party.”
“I know,” I said reluctantly. Really, I didn’t care about the wintry cold or going to a party or anything else. I leaned in to kiss him again but he shifted away. “Hey,” I protested. “Where are you going?”
“We should get in. If I keep kissing you we’ll never get out of the parking lot.”
“I am liking this parking lot.”
“Me, too. But,” he said, practically picking me up and moving me to the side so he could open the passenger door. “Come on. We can continue this—”
“Conversation?” I finished, trying to be helpful.
“Yes, we can continue this conversation later. I promise.”
“Can you believe,” I said, “that you and I used to not even talk to each other?”
“Rose—”
“Seriously, we used to ignore each other. If I had known then what I know now …” I trailed off.
This stopped him a moment and he looked at me. “And what exactly do you know now?”
“Oh, all kinds of things.” I grinned.
“Tell me.”
“We should get in the truck, remember?”
Will made a frustrated, choking sound at my lack of an answer as I climbed up into the cab, careful not to touch him. Only
about ten seconds passed after he got into the driver’s side before we were kissing again. We didn’t even pull apart when a group of his teammates passed by, whistling and yelling and banging on the back of the truck. Will waved them away through the cab’s back window, but this only sent them howling louder. “You’re like a drug or something,” Will said long after they were gone.
“So are you.”
He took a deep breath.
“I wish I could bottle this,” I whispered.
“And drink it every morning.”
“And every day at lunch, and then again at dinner, and before bed.”
“You’d get sick of it,” he said.
I shook my head. “Never.”
“Seriously,” he said. “I want to freeze this moment.”
“Good thing you don’t need to.”
“No?”
“Will Doniger, there is nothing in the entire universe that could make me stop wanting to be with you. And so on and so forth ad infinitum.”
“Really.”
“Cross my heart,” I said. I thought about the sparkling crystal heart that I’d left in his jacket pocket and wondered if he had found it yet.
“We should go,” he said. “Shouldn’t we?”
I sighed. “I suppose so.”
The two of us sat back against the seats. Will placed both hands on the steering wheel and kept them there, and I gripped the bottom of the seat, my fingers curling around the edge. Finally, after several deep breaths, we were on our way.
FALLING SLOWLY
By the beginning of March, Will and I were officially a couple and we finally started acting like one, too. Every day he picked me up for school and drove me home afterward, we walked down the hallways together holding hands, I visited him at his locker and he at mine. Krupa and Kecia got used to having him around, and his teammates got used to me, too. We ate out in big groups at the diner, went to the movies, hung out at each other’s houses.
Everything was perfect.
I began to believe there was life beyond my mother, beyond grief and sadness, and I almost forgot about the items that remained in my Survival Kit. The silver star, the box of crayons, the tiny, handmade kite. Will and I had yet to discuss the crystal heart, though I didn’t give it much thought.
One morning after another heavy snowfall, maybe the last one of winter, Will drove me to school as usual. Slowly, carefully, he turned into the parking lot and inched along the back row, the road covered in a sheet of ice. When we reached the farthest corner, I directed him toward a spot. ���Let’s park here,” I said.
He gave me a funny look. “Isn’t this kind of far away from the entrance?”
“Hmmm, maybe so.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Why would anything be wrong? Nothing is wrong. Trust me.”
“Okay,” he said with a shrug and swung into the space. A forest of snow-covered trees met us through the windshield, beads of ice along the thinnest limbs, the branches so heavy they almost brushed the front end of the truck. Will’s hand went straight to the door handle.
“Wait,” I stopped him.
“What?”
“Where are you going?”
“Same place as you. I think.”
“Don’t you have first period free?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Well, so do I.”
Will’s hand retracted from the door handle. “What does that mean?”
“Let’s see, not a soul is around, we have a beautiful view.” I gestured outside at the branches, swaying in the wind, the occasional ray of sunlight dancing off the ice. “Neither one of us has to go to class at the moment.”
This got a smile out of him. “Oh.”
“Yeah,
oh
.”
He reached over and took my hand, playing with my fingers.
“Your cheeks are red,” I observed.
“Nah,” he said, glancing out the window.
“It’s extremely cute.”
“Cute? I’m not sure I want to be cute. People say my sisters are cute.”
“Hot then.”
“You think I’m hot?” A grin tugged at his lips as he stared out the front of the truck, but the red only deepened.
“Maybe,” I said. “Hey, where does forward-Will go when we get to school? It’s like, kissing me on school grounds is against the rules or something.”
He laughed. “I guess I feel different when we’re at my house. Or really, anywhere outside of here. School, I mean. I’m more, I don’t know …
me
when we’re alone or in other places.”
“You mean, you become Mr. I-don’t-care-who-sees-me-kissing-Rose-Madison?”
“Is that how I am?” He actually sounded surprised.
“Um, yes. I like that version of you.”
He laughed nervously. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hm.”
“I’m not very”—he paused, thinking—“
public
when I’m at school. I never have been. I keep a low profile.”
“Yes, I know. You kept such a low profile I barely knew you existed for two years.”
“Come on, I worked at your house.”
“But you never talked to me. Ever.”
“I’m not like you, the center of attention.”
I blinked, surprised he thought this about me. “To be honest, I’m not sure that was ever really me either. And I was never the center. I was only nearby.”
“Well, as far as I’m concerned,” he said, and paused as if to brace himself, “I don’t like to flaunt what’s going on in my personal life in front of everyone at Lewis. I hope that’s okay.” He glanced at me sideways.
“I think I’ll live. Besides, I also like shy Will.”
“Oh, great. Now I’m shy Will.”
“Yes, at this particular moment you are, but back to more pressing matters,” I said, checking the time. “We have exactly thirty-five minutes before we even need to enter the building.” I scooted across the seat, closer. “Tons of privacy, no one around to worry about. Just you, me, the truck, and some trees.”
“You’re not shy at all, are you?”
“Careful, or I might kiss you at your locker between classes today in front of everyone.”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be so horrible.”
I put my arms around his neck. “Let’s start with the school parking lot and go from there.”
“Sounds like a reasonable compromise.”
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement,” I said, and those were the last words spoken between us until we had to go inside.
The call came during sixth period. I was hanging around the library, searching the shelves for something to read. The photograph of a beautiful girl on the cover of a book caught my attention so I picked it up. Happiness hummed through me as I flipped through it, enjoying the promise of the day’s end and seeing Will again. I closed my eyes and leaned against the tall bookshelf, remembering this morning.
A sigh came from the end of the row.
“So you couldn’t wait,” I said without looking up, assuming it was Will. He knew I was here and I was hoping he would figure a way out of history so we could meet. I’d imagined a make-out session in some remote corner of the stacks.
There was another intake of breath. Then a woman’s voice, “Rose Madison?”
I opened my eyes. Suddenly I could feel what was coming next, ominous, like the whisper of a candle blown out. The school librarian approached me, already halfway down the aisle. “What’s wrong?” I whispered when I saw the look on her face.
“The principal is looking for you. Have you checked your cell phone?” She hesitated a moment. “The hospital has been trying to reach you. It’s your father.”
The blood drained from my body, starting at the top of my head straight down through my face and torso to my legs and feet, everything gone cold. I reached out to grip the edge of the hard metal shelf and tried to steady myself, my fingers slamming against the coarse spines of old books. Thoughts raced
through my mind like a ticker at the bottom of a news channel.
Is my father dead? Dying? How did it happen? Was he drinking? I lost Mom and now I’m going to lose Dad, too. I’m going to lose my dad, my father.
I pushed past the librarian but she stopped me. Her hand felt warm and reassuring through my shirt and I wished she could make that feeling radiate all the way to my fingertips. “I should go,” I said.
“Do you need a ride? Is there someone I can call?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got to go,” I repeated, and began to walk, then run toward the exit. I had to find Will. He would know what to do, how to handle this. The library door was heavy, resisting my body like it didn’t want to let me out. I pushed through and immediately bent in half, both hands gripping my knees, my lungs heaving, everything a blur, like the world spun out of control. I had to pull myself together, so I forced myself up and began to stumble through the corridors, winding my way around the halls until I was outside Will’s classroom. Hands cupped against the window, I peered in, needing him to see me, my breaths short and ragged. It felt like forever before Will noticed I was there. When he came out I stepped to the side, gripping the nearby wall of lockers for support. He shut the door softly behind him, the short click of the latch the only noise.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice a hush in the empty corridor.
I started to cry, I couldn’t hold the tears back any longer.
“Something happened,” I said between sobs. “Something bad. My father is in the hospital and I’m so scared.” I buried my face in my hands and waited for him to put his arms around me, to move my body in the direction it needed to go, to be strong for me, to take me to see my father and tell me everything would be all right, that we would handle this. But his hands never reached for me and the reassurance never came, so I wiped my eyes with my palms and looked up. Will watched me from a distance, his arms glued to his sides, with an expression on his face that I couldn’t read.
“Will? Can you—”
“Rose, I’m sorry,” he said before I could finish.
“But, I need—can you take me? To the hospital?” I stuttered, wondering why I even needed to ask.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, and I began to panic.
What was he sorry for, exactly? And why wasn’t he doing anything, just standing there, frozen? Before I could pose any of these questions, I heard another voice in the hall, loud and deep.
“Rose,” it said. “Rose,” I heard, closer now.
I turned and saw Chris Williams standing there.
“Are you okay? What’s the matter?” These words fell from his lips and suddenly it was nine months ago and he was asking these same questions but because of my mother. Chris was suddenly at my side, someone that I could grab hold of, cling to, and all I had to do was reach out.
But I wanted it to be Will.
“It’s my dad,” I whispered.
That was all it took. There was a flurry of talk from Chris to me but I heard it as if underwater, his words distorted and blurred, the ground beginning to spin again, to ebb and flow, closer then farther away. There was an arm, big and strong, across my back,
not
Will’s, and for some reason I noticed how the white blond of Chris’s hair was so bright it stood out even against the fluorescent lighting on the ceiling. This was all so familiar, like I’d lived it before.
“I’ll take care of you,” he said, the very words I’d expected from Will. “We’ll be at the hospital in no time.” Just before we reached the doors to the parking lot, I heard my name one last time.
“Rose?”
Chris tried to draw me forward but my feet planted solid, and I wondered if I might just tear in half. I turned to see Will standing there, seeming lost, this boy who usually made me feel safe and taken care of and loved and listened to. I waited for him to explain, to take over, to tell me he’d just needed a moment and now he was ready. But Will didn’t move or say anything else, and that’s when I knew he wasn’t going to be there for me like I’d imagined. Those big blue eyes of his that had invited me inside these last wonderful months, in an instant they closed off, went blank, and became the eyes of the Will I’d known for years before, the one who was far away and stoic, like a locked door.
“I’ve got it from here,” Chris said eventually, his voice loud and sharp, a puncture in the quiet. “I’ve done this before,” he added with confidence, lobbing these words in Will’s direction.
I heard the faded sound of my own breathing and felt as though every single cell in my body that had turned back on during the winter, one by one, an endless string of tiny lights sparkling awake after a long sleep, had shut down again. All at once, my body went dark.
“Rose, we should go,” Chris urged. “You don’t want to waste any more time.”
I heard Will’s boots padding against the school corridor, the wheezing sound of a heavy door opening and closing, and I knew he was gone.
Then I did what I had to do. I let go of Will, for now.
It was time to deal with my father.
I let Chris steer me outside to face whatever came next.