Snowflake Kisses

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Snowflake Kisses Page 4

by Jennie Bennett


  “I’ll go find you some tissues,” I apologize, looking closer at his nose. It’s turning black and blue. “And a doctor.”

  “Wait!” he says. “I came down here to find you.”

  My legs start to shake so I squat. He did? So that story was about me? “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he says, the word labored. “I did.”

  Miriam clears her throat, and both our heads turn. I almost forgot she was there.

  “I’ll just go get the doctor then,” she says, backing away.

  I don’t want to abandon her, but Yangbin says thank you before I can stop her.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say. “’I can’t believe I did that.”

  “It’s okay,” he says, even though there’s now blood dripping on his ripped jeans. “Could I ask a favor, though?”

  “Anything,” I say, a little too excited. Time to be honest, I can’t keep my cool around him.

  “Could I lay my head on your lap?”

  That was the last thing I was expecting. At first I wonder if he’s trying to get fresh until he points to his nose. Of course, I should’ve offered it sooner. He needs to lay his head back to stop the bleeding.

  “Yes!” I say too loud, scrambling to get behind him.

  His breathing evens out as he rests on me. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” Could I be a bigger moron? I must be able to say something smarter than that. “I mean, I did that to your nose, so I’m happy to help you.”

  Nice save, Vee. Why don’t you stick your foot in your mouth while you’re at it?

  “I would help you even if I wasn’t the one to hurt you,” I continue. “What I’m trying to say is, you can count on me.”

  Okay, now I need another hole to hide in. Insta Hole. It would be an amazing invention for people who interact with other humans. I’ll do an infomercial and make millions.

  He laughs, his cute dimples coming back. “I got it.”

  What is taking Miriam so long? I’ve run out of embarrassing things to say, and Yangbin isn’t being chatty.

  We sit like for a moment, me staring at his hair. It’s really soft on my bare legs, and I’m glad I’m wearing this dress for the first time tonight.

  I really need to ask him why he was trying to find me, but I don’t have the courage yet.

  “I—”

  “You—”

  We say at the same time.

  “You go first,” we chorus.

  I wait a second before telling Yangbin to continue.

  “I should apologize too,” he says. “I didn’t realize it was you on the stage until they dragged you away. After that, I couldn’t leave, so I was late.”

  “It’s okay.” I say. “It was dumb of me to get up there. I just wanted to apologize for being rude this morning.”

  “Don’t,” he says. “I’m the one who’s awkward.”

  “No,” I say with conviction. “You’re not.”

  It’s quiet again, but this time the silence isn’t as stifling. I reach out a hand and touch the tip of his hair. It looks so nice I can’t stop myself. I tell myself that’s all I’m going to feel, but he holds still, so I touch again. His hair is really thick and shiny. I like it.

  “What you said on stage,” I start, choosing my words carefully. “About being shy and stuff...”

  I swallow, taking my time so I don’t screw it up. My fingers get lost in his locks as I begin to stroke his head.

  “I feel the same way.” Goosebumps erupt on my arms as bravery wells in my chest. “Everything you said about that girl was how I felt around you.”

  He still doesn’t say anything, so I take my hands out of his hair and lean back.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  I sit forward. “Huh?”

  He angles his chin up so I can see his face. His nose has stopped bleeding. Even though he’s still a mess, he’s cute. “You stopped petting me, why?”

  At first I don’t know what he’s talking about until he reaches for one of my hands and puts it back on his hair. “That feels really good.”

  I laugh, not afraid anymore. I enjoy it too.

  “So?” I say, still waiting for his response.

  “So, what?”

  “You know. What you said on stage.”

  I can see his chest rising and falling, his breathing even. “Oh that. I’m glad you feel the same as me.”

  My hands freeze in his hair. It’s too good to be true. There’s no way this miracle could happen to a girl like me.

  “You’re wrong though,” I say voicing my thoughts. “I’m not anything special.”

  Yangbin sits up and turns around so he’s facing me. “How can you say that?”

  I tuck a few stray hairs behind my ears, looking at my lap. “Because it’s true.”

  “You wanna bet?” he says, resting his arms on his crossed legs and leaning towards me.

  My gaze drifts to his face. His lips are squished in a thin line, eyebrows raised.

  “Yeah, I do,” I respond. “There’s nothing even remotely interesting about me.”

  He shakes his head. “Not true. Next.”

  I press my palms into the hard floor behind me to keep myself steady. “Name one thing.”

  “Okaaay,” he says, like it’s so obvious. “You helped at the benefit the other day.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks. He doesn’t know I was forced there. “That’s not anything.”

  “No,” he says before I can explain. “It is. I was there for my sister, but you just came. That’s pretty amazing.”

  “Yangbin—” I start, wanting him to understand. I sit forward to emphasize my point.

  “And then there was you jumping up on stage.” He interrupts, looking deep into my eyes. “That was pretty brave and amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl who would do that. Takes guts.”

  If that isn’t the best compliment I’ve ever received, I don’t know what is. “I’m glad you think my idiocy is complimentary, but—”

  “Do I need to leave you two alone?” A voice says behind us.

  I turn my head to see Miriam has arrived with help. I guess that’s okay. I face Yangbin again, intent on explaining myself, until I notice we’re within kissing distance.

  No wonder Miriam asked if we needed to be alone. When had we gotten so close? The thought didn’t cross my mind before now. I mean, he has blood all over his face. I for sure wouldn’t. Except, maybe I would.

  I push back and jump to standing. “Nope. Yangbin still needs to be patched up.”

  “Mr. Lee,” A tall guy in glasses says, rushing forward.

  Mr. Lee? That’s a little weird name for an older dude to call someone my age.

  “Who did this to you?” Tall Guy says.

  “It’s fine, Jeffery,” Yangbin answers. “It was an accident. I was running, and not looking where I was going.”

  Jeffery’s eyes narrow at me. “If you say so.”

  “Come on,” Yangbin says to Jeffery. “I’m sure dad’s looking for me.” Then he leans around Jeffery’s shoulder to look at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  A smile takes over my face. I’d like to see him every day if I could. “Sure.”

  He smiles back, about killing me in the process. “Alright, I’ll call your room sometime.”

  “That’d be great,” I say.

  “Bye,” he waves, walking the opposite direction Miriam and I need to go.

  “Bye!” I shout, my enthusiasm coming through stronger than I intended.

  I stand and stare as he walks away. Every now and then he turns and waves again.

  He’s almost around the corner when Miriam tugs at the collar of my dress. “We should go now.”

  As I watch him disappear, I shiver awake from my daydream. “Yeah, we should.”

  My mind is a fog as we walk up the stairs to the lobby. I’m not sure when Miriam picked up my shoes, but she’s holding them when we hit the elevator button to go to our room.

  The moment
the doors slide shut, Miriam’s in front of me, her arms on her hips. “What was that about?”

  “Huh?” I say, still a little dazed.

  “I leave for like a minute and suddenly you’re nose-to-nose with Yangbin?”

  Wow. I still can’t believe that happened. “I didn’t even know until you pointed it out.”

  “Well, it did.” Miriam says as if I should’ve known from the start.

  “Stop,” I argue, my face flushing. “That was crazy.”

  “And he’s going to call you tomorrow?”

  I cover my face and do a little happy dance. “He’s going to call me tomorrow!”

  Our elevator stops at our floor and I’m still hyped when I remember something. I’m not going to be in my room tomorrow.

  “But wait,” I say to Miriam. “We’re going skiing.”

  “No.” Miriam says. “You are not missing that to wait by the phone all day. Your parents would kill you.”

  I pull at my hair. “I know! What am I going to do?”

  “You’re going skiing. You can leave him a note at the front desk or something.”

  I throw a kick into the air, growling. “I don’t want to do that, but I guess I have no choice.”

  “It’s okay,” Miriam says, “I’ll support you, one hundred percent.”

  I nod as I steady my breathing. “It’s going to be fine. Really, what could go wrong?”

  “Up and at ‘em!” Dad says way earlier than should be allowed. EVER. Especially not on Christmas break.

  “Dad!” I moan. “Let me sleep.”

  “No way,” he says. “We’re going to hit the slopes in ten minutes.”

  I shoot out of bed. “What? I haven’t even showered.”

  Dad gives me that you’re-such-a-teenager look. “You’re going to get wet and sweaty, you don’t need to shower until after.”

  “Okay,” I say rubbing my eyes, “but I just need to write this note real fast—”

  “No time,” Dad says, cutting me off. “You’re down to eight minutes. I’m serious, you’ll miss your ski lessons if we don’t hustle.”

  Great. Now Yangbin might call and I won’t be here, and there won’t be an answer either. Guess I’ll just have to find him afterwards.

  I grab my snow gear and the skis my parents rented for me. These boots are insanely hard to walk in, and I’m doing this weird waddle/shuffle thing as I walk. At least I’m not alone in my ridiculousness.

  We barely catch the shuttle to the slopes. I don’t know why my parents didn’t pick a later class. It’s not even six yet. Guess they wanted to get lots of skiing time in since this would be our only day doing this activity.

  Once we’re seated and settled, Miriam pulls out my ponytail. “Please let me help you,” she says.

  “Thanks,” I didn’t get the chance to run a brush through it.

  “No problem,” she says, braiding my hair a little harder than she needs to.

  When we exit the shuttle, I catch my reflection to find she’s made me look half-decent. I’m going to ask her to do my hair from now on.

  “Alright,” Dad says, gathering everyone around. “Vee, Miriam, and Ammon have lessons in ten minutes. They meet at the front lodge. I suggest you three head there now.”

  Well, at least I won’t hang out with my parents all day.

  I figure out how to strap into my skis and push with my poles to the lodge, Miriam and Ammon in tow.

  It’s colder than I thought it would be. Even wearing winter gear, I can feel the bite of cold on my skin. Not exactly my favorite thing to do.

  Our instructor is already waiting. He looks familiar, but I can’t quiet place him. Not until Miriam grips my arm so hard it hurts.

  “Do you know who that is?” she whispers in my ear.

  I throw her some shade. “Uh, no.”

  “It’s Ben,” she says, her nails digging into my flesh through five layers of fabric and coats.

  “From Yangbin’s band?”

  She lets out an exasperated breath. It’s not Yangbin’s band, it’s M-I-X-X.

  “Yeah,” I say drawing the word out. “What does that stand for anyway?”

  “Manly, Maximum—”

  I stop her, confused. “Wait, there’s two M’s?”

  “Three actually,” she says.

  My brain hurts trying to process that. “Who decided on that name?”

  “Not important,” Miriam says. “What is important is that we’re about to be literally schooled by the hottest guy on the planet.”

  “Hardly,” I say under my breath, which earns me a smack to the back of my head.

  “Alright,” I say holding up my hands. “You’re right, he’s pretty cute.” And I mean it.

  “But Yangbin is cuter,” I say through a cough. Which earns me a double smack.

  Ammon, who’s already talking to Ben, looks back and waves us over.

  We follow, both of us giggling at Miriam’s crush.

  “Will you two quit whispering and listen?” Ammon says when Ben starts talking.

  I straighten my back and concentrate, but I can tell Miriam is too starry-eyed to know what he’s saying.

  “The first thing you need to know,” Ben directs. “Is how to stop. All you have to do to go is be headed downhill. Stopping is different. Everyone make a pizza with your skis, like this.”

  Apparently making a pizza means the tip of the skis meet like a triangle with legs apart. Skiing might be harder than it looks on television.

  “Alright, who’s ready to hit the slopes?” Ben asks when he’s finished explaining.

  Of course Miriam raises her hand. Somehow she ends up on the same lift bench as Ben which leaves me with Ammon. I have a feeling I’m not going to see her for the rest of the day.

  “Do you remember how to get off this thing?” Ammon asks as we approach the top.

  “Sure,” I say, “Just tip your skis down.”

  Ammon latches onto my left arm. “I don’t think I can do it.”

  No way, Ammon is being a little scaredy pants? Normally he teases me for not trying new things.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I say. “Just watch the people ahead of us.”

  I figure this is a good plan since the boys in front have really fancy gear. I bet they ski all the time.

  “Yeah,” Ammon says, nodding. “Good plan.”

  Sure enough, the boys ahead tip their skis down and stand to get off. I follow suit, and Ammon makes it off safely. This is going to be no big deal. Ben said we were doing an easy hill first, so I’m sure we’ll get time to practice.

  “Ammon?” I say, turning around and looking for him. Since we got off together, I assumed he followed me to the green circle run, but he’s nowhere to be found.

  I spin a few times to make sure I didn’t miss him, calling his name again.

  That’s when I hear the scream.

  There’s a few things that can be picked up by living with someone, and knowing what their scream sounds like is one of those gifts.

  I push in the direction of the noise to find Ammon took my advice a little too seriously. He followed the better skiers all the way to their hill, a blue square. I don’t know much about skiing, but I know that hill isn’t for beginners.

  As much as I dislike Ammon, I still love him. All I can think about is making sure he’s safe. It’s not until I’m plummeting downhill faster than I imagined I could go that I realize my mistake.

  In my attempt to save Ammon, I’m skiing to my death.

  More Collisions

  Make a pizza, make a pizza, I keep telling myself, but every time I try to push the tip of my skis together there’s a bump, or snow starts spraying, and I end up swaying off balance.

  My poles are no good either. I put them to the ground, but they almost snapped.

  I am going to die. Even if I make it to the bottom of the hill without hitting a rock—there have already been three close calls—I’m never going to slow down enough to avoid crashing into something.
>
  “Vee!” I hear as I ski right by Ammon who has the pizza thing figured out.

  Please find a way to stop! I command my legs, but it’s still overly complicated.

  In a last jerk effort, I turn my body full right and start going down the hill sideways. It’s slowing me down a bit, but I have no control over what I might hit.

  When I’m about to make contact with the giant poles of a second lift, I try to turn my skis forward. This ends up being a major mistake as one of my skis flips off. My other leg skids out from under me and I end up landing funny as the second ski comes loose.

  Before I can make sense of up or down, I’m rolling. I try to spread out my hands, but the momentum is too strong and I end up scraping my palms. I’m getting bruises in places I didn’t know could be bruised.

  The only thing that’s going to stop me is hitting something, and unfortunately it happens to be another skier. We tumble together for a few yards, until the other skier stops us.

  Everything burns. I’ve lost the wind in my lungs and the ability to move my limbs. My eyes sting from the cold wind in my face, and there’s blood coming from the side of my lip.

  “We have got to stop meeting like this,” the other skier says.

  I open my eyes to see Yangbin. His face is so close to mine I can feel his breath.

  Before, where there was only pain, I now feel his weight. He’s perfectly on top of me, my wrists pinned under his hands.

  “Yangbin?” I say, just before passing out.

  “She has a sprained ankle and some bruised ribs, but luckily nothing was broken.”

  My head pounds as I try to open my eyes. Everything is too blurry and my eyelids are too heavy. Swallowing is no good because my throat is dry, too. I try to move my limbs, but even that hurts.

  I’m pretty sure there’s a needle in my hand connected to an IV, but I can’t really see. What I do know, is that I’m no longer in my clothes. My coat has been put back on me and zipped up, but underneath that I’m wearing a hospital gown and underwear.

  “How long will it take for her ankle to heal?”

  Now that voice I recognize. It’s my mom.

  “At least three weeks. The good news is, she’ll be able to walk with a boot. She should rest for today at least. Tomorrow she can walk a little, but I’d prefer for her to stay in bed.”

 

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