Mama pushed back her chair and stood shakily. “I need to rest. Please don’t disturb me.” She went to her room and closed the door.
Raven put the soup away and cleaned the kitchen. She dusted the furniture with a cloth, though she’d done that two days before. She kept looking out the windows at the snow. It called to her, too. But not as a dead person. It was very much alive, inviting her to go outside.
She put on her boots and coat and wrote a note for Mama: I’m out walking in the snow. I’ll be home later. She put the note in the usual place on the refrigerator with a magnet.
Darkness was coming fast with the snow. She found a flashlight and her warmest hat and gloves.
She crunched through the snow in the direction of the stream. She hadn’t yet decided if she would go to Jackie’s party. The invitation of the snow might be enough for her. She had never walked in heavy snow in the dark before. The crystalline flakes looked like falling stars in the golden beam of her flashlight.
It took a long time to get to the stream. She dawdled in the falling stars, and twice the white darkness tricked her into going the wrong way.
She shined her flashlight on the trickling stream. Its depth would swamp her boots. Her feet would be soaked, cold, and heavy. She either stepped into the water and went straight to Jackie’s house, breaking her promise, or she walked away.
The burbling water was telling her to go downstream, toward Jackie. But that was what water always did. It went where it wanted without thought of consequences.
But what were the consequences? She could think of none. Mama had been exhausted. She would sleep for a long time. If she woke, she would see the note and appreciate that her daughter wanted to walk in the snow. Anyway, she was much too sick to come looking for her.
Raven stepped into the water, and her boots filled. Her feet hurt, then went numb. She walked as fast as she could. She shined her light on the Wolfsbane. All those years, and it was still there keeping the werewolf away.
She hurried onto dry land, through the alder trees, across the field. She saw the fence ahead. Beyond it, the little yellow house with golden windows was a sweet dream in the falling snow.
She walked to the fence. She couldn’t tell if her boots were touching grass that leaned over the boundary. Snow covered everything. She leaned down and slid through the fence boards. She walked a few steps and turned around, shining her light on the fence and her new footprints in the snow. How easy it was.
She jogged the rest of the way to the house, laughing when she tripped over something and fell on her stomach. She ran to the front door and pressed the doorbell, her breath coming out in fast white clouds.
“I’ll get it!” Reece called from inside.
The door opened. “I don’t believe it!” Reece said. “You breached the fence magic!”
“I did.”
“And you survived in one piece!”
“I think I lost my toes. I can’t feel them.”
“Get over here, you damn crazy Bird Girl!” He grabbed her in his arms and swung her in a circle.
Jackie hugged her, then Huck and Ms. Danner. They peeled off her hat and coat, even helped her pull off her boots.
The house smelled delicious, like apples, spices, evergreen, and woodsmoke from the blaze in the hearth. Raven wouldn’t let Ms. Danner take her to get dry clothes until she looked at the fir tree with its tinsel, lights, and shiny ornaments. How strange it made her feel, to see that poor dying tree inside a human house, even as its glittering beauty lit up her heart.
“We started doing Christmas trees when my mom got married,” Jackie said. “My dad loved them.”
“I’m still not keen on it,” Ms. Danner said, “but the boys wanted to continue the ritual.”
“Go put on dry clothes,” Reece said. “We were just getting ready to eat.”
“And you don’t mess with Reece when he’s hungry,” Huck said.
“Unless you’re Bird Girl,” Reece said, rubbing his fingers in her hair.
After Raven changed, Ms. Danner poured her a cup of hot spiced cider. At Reece’s request, dinner was vegan tacos and burritos, same as the last meal Raven had at their house.
After dessert, Reece stuck a third cookie in his mouth and shrugged on his coat.
“Where are you going?” Ms. Danner asked.
“Snow softball,” he said through the cookie.
“It’s a tradition,” Huck said.
A tradition Raven wanted to be a part of. She grabbed her coat and boots. Reece turned on a floodlight that lit up the falling snow and backyard.
Softball quickly devolved into a snowball fight. First it was a free-for-all, then Jackie and Raven versus Huck and Reece. Next came the snow rubbing. In the hair, in the face. It hurt, but Raven didn’t care. She was having the best time. Reece started shoving snow inside everyone’s coats, so Raven, Jackie, and Huck ganged up and pulled him down into the snow. “Puppy pile!” Raven yelled, and they all flopped on top of him. That had been one of her favorite games with the boys when she was young.
While they were on the ground, Raven pushed a snowball down Jackie’s back.
“You’re going to pay for that!” he said.
She ran across the yard laughing. He tackled her, and she screamed at the shocking cold when he retaliated. She rolled over and tried to rub snow in his face, but he pinned her arms. They were breathing hard, their faces close. The warm, wet smell of him was intoxicating.
“Are we doing puppy pile, Jackie?” Reece called.
“No,” Jackie called back.
Reece and Huck broke into laughter.
“If you need any tips, we’ll be inside,” Reece called.
They went in the house, tittering. The floodlight turned off.
The sudden darkness was startling. But the touch of Jackie’s lips on hers wasn’t. She knew they were going to kiss.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“If it wasn’t, you’d know,” she said.
“I’d have a fat lip.”
“Worse.”
He still had her arms pinned.
“I want to try this.” She rolled on top of him, pinned his arms, and kissed him.
“Which did you like better?” he asked.
“This.”
“I think I do, too. But I need more to be sure.”
She obliged.
“I’m sorry I said you were mean,” she said.
“I knew you were only frustrated.”
He sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s weird how easy this is,” he said.
“I know. But maybe not that weird.”
He held her out in his arms and looked at her. The lights in the house projected enough glow that she could see his shadowed features and a little shine in his eyes. He was smiling.
“You aren’t surprised at all?” he asked.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I was seven, I think.”
“I think I have, too.”
She kissed him again. He was right. Being with him was so easy. As easy as breaching the fence magic had been.
He pulled off his gloves and combed snow out of her hair with his fingers. “I finally get to touch your hair.”
“You like my hair?”
“I love your hair. It’s always reminded me of shiny black raven feathers—because of your name, obviously.”
Chris had seen through to her raven side, too. Maybe the closeness of spirit made it happen. But she hadn’t felt a hundredth the soul bond to Chris as she did with Jackie.
“Want to go inside?” he asked.
“I could stay out here all night.”
He smiled, stroking his hands on her hair. “I bet you could. That’s how I always see you: out here. Even at school. You’re like a piece of the forest that comes inside for a little while.”
“I feel like that at school a lot of the time.” She kissed his lips lightly. “I went there for you, you know. And for Reece and Huck.”
“I know. We all knew. You paid to
o heavy a price. That’s why we’ve been so pissed off about it all these years. And really guilty.”
“Why guilty?”
“Huck said it best. He said we lured you to school, and it was like a trap. The door closed, and we could only see you there, like visiting you in a cage. You lost all your freedom because of us.”
“Let’s not talk about that. I’m here now.”
“Does she know?”
“No. She’s asleep.”
“When are you going back?”
“I don’t want to talk about that either. I want you to kiss me.”
He touched his lips to hers and said, “I will. As much as I can until you go.”
They stayed outside for only a few more minutes. They were soaked and getting cold. As they entered the back door, Jackie said, “Reece’s jokes about this will be endless.”
“I don’t care.”
“Neither do I.”
Ms. Danner came to the door as they slid off their boots and coats. “I figured you’d be as wet as Huck and Reece were. I put dry clothes in the half bath for you, Raven.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry we’re creating so much laundry. I could put a load in the washer for you.”
“That’s sweet of you, but you go have fun. When do you have to be home?”
“No set time.”
Ms. Danner frowned. “Does your mother know you’re here?”
Raven shook her head.
“She must be frantic by now!”
“She’s asleep. And if she wakes up, I left a note saying I was on a walk.”
“At night in a snowstorm?”
“That’s what she and I always do.”
“What is?”
“Go outside.”
She looked at Jackie. “This worries me. Drive her home soon, okay?”
He nodded. But when his mother wasn’t looking, his mischievous glance at Raven said soon wasn’t what he had in mind.
Raven and Jackie met in the living room after they changed. Huck and Reece were watching a movie. The living room was pretty with no lights but candles and the colored bulbs on the Christmas tree.
“Get lost in the storm?” Huck asked.
“Yep,” Jackie said.
“I hope you had your moral compass with you, young man,” Reece said in a teacher voice.
Jackie pulled Raven next to him on the L-shaped couch. “Where’s Mom?” he asked Huck.
“Reading in her room.”
Jackie unfolded a soft blanket and spread it over Raven and him. He moved close, nestling her in his arms.
“Whoa, what’s this?” Reece said. “Do you two move fast or what?”
“Not really,” Huck said. “They’ve already slept together.”
Reece pretended to choke on a piece of popcorn. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I was told I couldn’t,” Huck said, looking at Jackie.
“And yet, you just did,” Jackie said.
“When was this?” Reece asked.
“A while back,” Jackie said.
Reece looked at Raven. “Aren’t you going to defend your honor?”
“I don’t have to. I was seven years old.”
“I know for a fact that Cinderella always left long before midnight that summer,” he said.
“She snuck into Jackie’s bed in the middle of the night,” Huck said.
“You little minx!” Reece said to Raven.
They all laughed.
“But really, did you?” he asked Raven.
“I really did. My mother was angry with me, and I ran away.”
“And you crawled into bed with him?”
“She did,” Jackie said, hugging her tighter. “She was freezing cold and wet.”
“That was because I fell asleep in Hooper’s field.”
“You never told me that,” he said.
“I was too busy shivering,” she said.
“This is some story,” Reece said. “Can I have rights to it when I become a famous author?”
“We’ll think about it,” Jackie said.
“Are you still writing?” Raven asked Reece.
“I write when I’m not dead tired from working, and driving back and forth, and doing laundry, and making sure my mom eats more than whiskey every day. Which means, no, I’m basically not writing.”
“That sucks,” Jackie said.
“I know, and I suffer well, don’t I?” Reece said.
“Admirably,” Huck said. “Are we watching this movie or what?”
“Rewind it to where we were when the love pups came in,” Reece said.
She and Jackie didn’t stay long. After a few minutes, he whispered, “Want to go to my room?”
She nodded.
“Tell Mom you’re doing homework?” Huck asked when they headed for the stairs.
“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll believe that,” Jackie said.
“Don’t study too hard,” Reece said, and he and Huck sniggered.
Jackie turned on the light and closed the door. He’d repainted, a stormy blue-gray replacing the pastel blue. The bed was bigger, making the room feel smaller. On his desk and dresser were photographs of him with his father and family, many from their camping trips. The only decorations on the walls were a mirror over his dresser and a corkboard covered with photographs of friends and other memorabilia that dated back to elementary school. Raven was in a few of the photographs from school events. Scattered over the board were stickers from places he’d visited—Mount Rainier, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon—and conservation messages: THINK GREEN, PLANT POWER, RECYCLE. Jackie said he was going to study conservation biology in college.
“You still have the stars,” she said, looking up at the white ceiling with plastic stars.
“I wanted them gone when I started middle school, but they tore the plaster when we pulled a few off. We decided to leave them on rather than redo the ceiling.”
“I like them.”
“Then I’m glad they’re still here.” He took her in his arms. “What do you want to do?”
“We could play Chutes and Ladders.”
“I don’t think we have that game anymore.”
“Candy Land?”
He grinned. “That sounds like code for something else.”
“It does. Let’s play.” She lifted the bottom of his sweatshirt up his chest.
“You really do move fast.”
“I only want to look.”
“Yeah? Can’t wait till it’s my turn.”
She studied his bare chest. She thought of the day she’d first met him, when he, Huck, and Reece swam in the deep pool in the creek. His tanned body had been smooth and soft. Now he had some hair on his chest, and his shape was that of a man, contoured with beautiful bulges of muscle.
He was as easy about her looking at him as he’d been about kissing her. Maybe because he’d been with other girls. “What do you think?” he asked, holding his arms out.
“Remember Huck used to say you were Jolly in Candy Land? You’re King Kandy now.”
“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?”
“You should.” She ran her fingers along the line of man fuzz below his navel. “When did you get this?”
He made a soft laugh. “I don’t remember exactly.”
“It’s nice.”
“You keep touching me there and it’ll be way too nice.” He removed her hand and pressed her close to kiss her. “Is it my turn now?”
“You’re going to take off my sweater?”
“I’d love to check out the Gumdrop Mountains. But if my mother comes up here, she’ll freak.”
“Will she come up?”
“I don’t know.”
“I want to see the stars.”
She turned off the overhead light. A constellation of stars glowed greenish white above them. She lay on her back to look at them. “I always wanted to see these stars again.”
He stretched out next to her. “Only the stars?”
&
nbsp; “And you.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Will we be able to see each other during the vacation?”
“I want to.”
“I know. We have to figure out a way.”
She imagined asking Mama if she could go out with him. If he were anyone but the boy who lived in the house she’d forbidden, it would be much easier. But maybe Mama didn’t care about that now. She didn’t have the energy to care about much.
Jackie stroked his fingers on her face. “Raven . . . ?”
“Yes?”
“Will you tell me what’s going on? I know something’s been wrong since you came back from Montana.”
“My mother is sick.”
“Physically?”
“Yes. Her heart.”
All the forbidden words spilled out. She didn’t know why.
“I think she’s going to die, Jackie.”
“Raven, I’m so sorry. Did a doctor say that?”
“She won’t go to a doctor.”
“She has to! Maybe they can do surgery.”
“She won’t. I’ve tried.”
“Why won’t she?”
“I think because of her mother. She died in a hospital, and my mother said she died without dignity.”
“But maybe they could fix what’s wrong and she wouldn’t die.”
“I know. I tried . . . she made me promise . . .” The weight of it broke through. All the ache poured out in her sobs.
Jackie held her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said.
“Where will I go if she dies? What will I do?”
“It’ll be okay. Maybe she won’t die.”
“She’s getting worse and worse.”
“You said you have an aunt. Can she help?”
“I’m not allowed to tell her.”
“Maybe you should break that promise.”
“I can’t! My aunt will put her in a hospital. They’ll attach her to machines. She doesn’t want that. She has a right to be in control of what happens to her body, doesn’t she?”
“I don’t know. She’s put you in an impossible situation.”
Raven cried harder.
Someone tapped on the door.
“Jackie?” Ms. Danner said. “What’s going on? Why is Raven crying?”
“Crap,” Jackie whispered. He pulled on his sweatshirt and turned on the desk lamp before opening the door.
His mother surveyed Raven wiping her tears. “I don’t want to pry, but I’m obviously concerned.”
The Light Through the Leaves Page 24
