Black Ice

The Snow

As the days passed, Jaime forgot Scott’s warning. What did it matter if the snow was dangerous? It never snowed in South Acres.

Every morning she would head to the corner store where she had begun picking up shifts now that their little one-room schoolhouse had graduated her, and every night she would look at her suitcases, and wonder if she would ever be brave enough to take them to the town sign again.

And then she would think of Scott. Of Max. They were holding her here, more than she had ever felt a need to stay before. Scott with his infinite strangeness and mystery, and Max with his trailing puppy energy. He’d calmed down, after a week or so, and after about a month, everything felt agonizingly normal. Scott had moved into Leslie’s house, an old woman that needed someone to care for her during the day, but more times than not, Jaime still found him sleeping in the rec building, next to the bed like he didn’t trust himself to sleep comfortably.

Every so often, she’d think of snow.

One day, in January, when Jaime had finally dug her winter coat out of the depths of her closet, the sky held a strange, deep rage. The clouds seemed wet, like sodden dryer lint.

She came across Scott, standing in the middle of the street, just staring at the sky. “Hey, you alright, Scotty?”

He jumped, his expression haunted when he turned to look at her. “I… listen, um…”

A young man, all wild energy and short, choppy hair, blasted between them with a raucous whoop. “Alex!” Jaime cried, scolding, and he turned to offer her a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, Jay-bie, got somewhere to be!”

“Stop calling me that!”

He stuck his tongue out, and Jaime let out an exasperated huff. “That boy… Anyway, you were saying?” She turned back, but Scott was already gone. “I-… dammit…” Jaime looked up at the sky. Why had he been so fixated on it? Was that what snow looked like? She’d always assumed it would be white.

A shrug, and then she was moving again. What had he said about snow?

That night, as the first flakes began their lazy descent, about half the town was gathered in the rec center. Music blasted, the bleachers extended to their full capacity and lined with laughing partiers too cold to want to be outside. Scott, though, stood by the windows that lined the back wall, staring out at the falling snow like he was watching something horrible.

Jaime didn’t understand. She stood beside him, eyes wide in wonder. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, and when Scott didn’t answer, she huffed. Max emerged from the throng to stand on her other side, putting a hand briefly on her arm. She jumped, then poked him with a smile. “Hey, Max. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He grinned, “Yeah, really is.” But his grin faltered when he glanced toward Scott, who had begun to sweat. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, he won’t answer me…” Jaime passed a hand in front of his eyes, making him blink rapidly.

“Wh- when did you guys get here?”

Max laughed. “What do you mean? Everyone’s here!” He gestured to the room, and Scott turned as if just realizing he wasn’t the only one in the room. But that was nuts, wasn’t it? How could he not have heard any of them coming in? Nobody had been quiet, or subtle.

“Hey, you alright?” Jaime stepped toward Scott, putting a hand on his arm, “You’ve been really weird all day.”

He closed his eyes, steadying himself with a breath, and looked back outside. “It’s snowing.”

Jaime smiled. Max didn’t. “Yeah,” she said, “It’s really pretty. I get why they call it powder. It looks like everything’s doused in sugar.”

“Saints alive,” they heard from behind them “Is that snow?” An older woman, her hair all pinned on top of her head in a haphazard pile, rushed to the window. “I haven’t seen that since my foal’s years…”

Jaime smiled at her, oblivious that Scott was looking at them both with a sort of perplexed sorrow. Max was watching Scott, fingers in the hairs on the nape of his neck. “Hey, Jaime, maybe we should-“

“Everyone, look! It’s snowing!”

The doors opened.

A great gust flew inside, carrying with it a gossamer plume of flakes.

Scott made a noise in his throat that sounded like he was choking, and grabbed at both Jaime and Max, drawing them behind one of the bleachers, far away from the door.

“What the hell, Scott? What are you-“ Jaime paused, looking back toward the door, when Scott put a finger to his lips and pointed in that direction. People were flooding outside, still laughing, still mid party, dancing in the snow like nothing had ever been wrong in their lives before that moment. Jaime whined softly, wishing she could be among them.

“Please,” he whispered, and the panic in his voice made both of them stop pulling to get back to the doors. “Please just don’t go outside. I’ll explain, but just… don’t.”

They stood, and they watched, and waited until the last person let the door fall shut behind them. Only then did Scott release their arms. They weren’t the only ones left, but they almost were.

Alex, the rude whirlwind, was sitting on the stage, having been one of the singers of the night.

Kelsey, the daughter of the ever so curious and helpful Ms. Isaac, was sitting on one of the far bleachers, looking incredibly bored.

Andrea, one of Jaime’s closest friends, resplendent in her sequins and carefully done hair, was looking longingly out the window. No doubt she knew her outfit wouldn’t survive the weather.

Then there was Hector, a boy with close-cropped sandy hair and a cocky smirk permanently stuck to his face. He was leaning against a wall, glaring toward Jaime, but she didn’t really blame him for hating her. He’d asked to go out with her maybe a month ago, and she’d made no secret of rejecting him. She guessed he was still sore about it.

And then, of course, there was her, Scott, and Max.

“Alright, then explain,” she said, “No more distractions, no more interruptions.”

“Yeah,” Hector said, sitting down on a crossbeam to peer down at them, “Explain why you’re grabbing up on my girl all the time.”

Jaime’s nose flared, and Max stiffened, but she put out a hand to steady him. She didn’t need saving. “What part of f**k off didn’t you understand, Hector? I didn’t leave much room for debate, or do you need me to say it clearer? I am not your girl.” She hissed those last words, and it was Max that had to hold her back.

“I understand you’ll come to your senses once I get you somewhere quieter. We could do it now, if you want.” He leaned down, grin wide and predatory, hand slipping off the beam like he meant to reach out and touch her.

Max stepped forward, putting himself between her and Hector, and said “I think you have your answer, Hector.”

Scott put his arm around her, his nervous energy vibrating through her shoulder, and she put a hand on his head, unsure who was meant to be soothing whom. “Let’s just get everyone together, hear what Scott has to say, alright?”

Hector blew a huff up the bridge of his nose like he had hair to move out of the way, but slid off of the beam with an unbothered little hop. “Yeah, whatever.”