Chapter 19
Why did it have to snow tonight? I was thinking as I stomped down Summit Avenue in the slush, my puffy coat over my shoulders, my dress slightly torn where I’d slipped and caught it on my shoe.
I wasn’t wearing the right shoes in which to stalk off angrily. The shoes had these little pointed toes and these little spiky heels. I was getting snow on my feet and ankles, because not everyone had gotten around to shoveling yet—why would they? It was still snowing. I needed snow boots, not pretty, delicate party shoes.
Shoveling. Why did I even have to think of shoveling, which made me think of Conor, and that day I ran out and nearly tackled him with my hug.
Well, so much for Groundhog Getaway. That wasn’t going to happen. And neither was anything with me and Conor.
Why had I even come? I didn’t do well with fancy parties. Exhibit A: junior prom, where I thought I had a date but it turned out he liked someone else.
Exhibit B: Snow Ball. Where I also thought I had a date, and I did, but I didn’t like him, and the guy I did like showed up with another date.
And they were brothers. Did it get more bizarre than this? Well, probably. But I’d rather be pelted with actual snowballs than go through this night again.
I felt Cinderella-like, nearly losing my shoes with every step. If I had glass slippers, they would have frosted over by now.
So far I’d been passed by one car of guys that honked at me and yelled something, and another car of guys that had whistled—either at me, or the little old lady who passed me going the other direction. She’d given me quite a look, like everyone knew that you didn’t just walk down Summit on the last night of Winter Carnival in a fancy outfit, as if there were a St. Paul city ordinance against it.
This was shaping up to be one of the worst nights of my life. My teensy-tiny purse wasn’t big enough for a cell phone, so I hadn’t even been able to call anyone yet.
Beside me, a car pulled over to the curb, and I pulled my jacket more tightly around me. Leave me alone! I thought. Can’t you see I’m completely miserable?
The horn honked but I ignored it. Maybe I should switch to side streets, I thought. Fewer cars, less harassment. Or maybe I should find a phone and try calling Gretchen. If I cut over to Grand Avenue, I could probably find a coffee shop or a restaurant that was still open. They’d have to take pity on a poor girl like me. Broken-hearted, and steeped in slush. And without my cell.
I heard the car door slam behind me and kept walking. As I heard footsteps behind me in the wet snow, getting closer and closer, I suddenly got nervous. I glanced over my shoulder.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” Conor said.
I just kept walking.
“You know, you on the side of the road, vaguely wandering, me driving past.” He jogged a little to catch up to me. “So, nice night. A little snowy, maybe, but it is the theme and all. Kevin’s parents probably arranged it somehow.”
I laughed, but then stopped myself. “Are you here to rescue me or something?” I asked.
“No. I’m here to see if you want a ride home,” Conor said.
“That’s what you always say,” I complained.
“Hey. I’m all about the rides home,” Conor joked.
I turned to him and felt a small smile creep up at the corners of my mouth. “Ha ha.”
“Well, it was funny,” he said. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“No thanks. I mean, thanks but no thanks,” I said, giving him a meaningful look. The last time I’d tried to give him a ride, he’d nearly sprinted away across the parking lot.
“Are we just going to stand here all night quoting each other?” Conor asked. “I mean, not that the material is bad, but I was kind of hoping we could get beyond that.”
“Conor! I can’t let you give me a ride—”
“Why not?” he interrupted.
“Because—”
“You don’t like my truck,” he cut in. “I know. It is old, and it is loud, but—”
“No, because—aren’t you supposed to be at the party with someone else? You should really get back there,” I said. “You completely ditched your date. And even though I really really like you and I’m happy to see you, I just don’t think it’s very fair to her that you ran out.”
“I didn’t run out,” Conor said. “I sprinted.”
“Come on.” I pushed him a little bit. “Don’t tell me you’re the kind of person who’d abandon the person they brought, okay? Because you’re not.”
“No, I guess not,” Conor said with a shrug. He was fighting a smile, but I couldn’t figure out why.
“So. Okay. Who is your…uh…who is she?” I asked.
“The love of my life,” Conor said. “What do you think?”
I just stared at him. “Seriously?”
“No, of course not!” Now he playfully shoved me, for a change. “I mean, I do like her. But that’s Janie. We’re pals.”
“But…you came together. Didn’t you?”
“What? Oh, no. We ran into each other when we got here. Bumped into her in the entryway.”
“Oh.” I tried not to smile so much that it hurt, but it was difficult. My mouth kept making this happy shape. It was straining the smile muscles. “Really?” I almost snickered, but I held it back.
“Did you think…wow. You thought we were a couple?” Conor asked.
“Well, I asked Sean if you had a date and he said yes,” I said.
“Like he knows anything about anyone except himself?” Conor said. “The fact he could remember that he was supposed to pick you up is amazing.”
“Come on, give him a break,” I said. “He’s maybe not the best guy…but he’s not the worst.”
“Yeah. Okay. Anyway, do you think that I would ask you out, and then, like, go with someone else?” Conor said.
“I don’t know. I mean…I was going with Sean, when I really wanted to go with you.”
“Aha! I knew it,” Conor said.
“And I came to tell you that, and I saw you walk in together, and you were in the corner of that den, talking to her, and I just assumed…”
“That we were…together together?” Conor laughed. “If you only knew.”
I folded my arms in front of me, which wasn’t a bad idea anyway because I was getting chilly. “Enlighten me.”
“She was upset because she liked someone else there. She was trying to convince me to go talk to him for her.”
“You. A matchmaker? Ha. I thought you said you and Janie were good friends. I mean, doesn’t she know you better than that?”
“Hey. No fair. I did tell her that asking me to ask someone to dance with her was a little, uh, strange.”
“So that’s why you were whispering,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“Hmm.” I tapped my shoe against the slushy pavement—a layer of ice had built up underneath the sole so that I couldn’t really make contact.
“So. Now what?” Conor asked. He reached over and pulled some snow out of my hair. “If you don’t want a ride home, do you want to go somewhere else?”
I nodded, biting my lip. “Yeah. But where?”
We stood there for a minute, not moving, the snow falling lightly. “I have an idea,” Conor said. “Come on.” He reached out for my hand. I took it and we headed for the truck.
“See, Gretchen said I was silly to wear this jacket with this dress. But I think you have to admit that it goes very nicely.” I smoothed my dress and looked at the way it fanned out over the top of my blue rental skates. “I don’t know if I would go with blue, but…”
Conor finished tying his hockey skate laces and stood up. “It works,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, knowing that I probably looked sort of ridiculous. “How did you know this skating rink was open late?”