I laughed and pulled his lips to mine again.
“What is a youth? Impetuous fire.
What is a maid? Ice and desire.”
—Glen Weston, “What Is a Youth?”
Quoted on a homemade valentine card from Jesse to Winter, February, senior year
EPILOGUE
The
wind screamed like a wild animal outside. Even for a girl who was Alaskan born and bred, it sounded freakishly cold.
“This makes the night of the Snow Ball look like spring break in Florida,” Jesse said, from where he was looking out the front window of my living room. He leaned closer to the window. “I’m guessing the dark mass at your mailbox is Kerry delivering the mail.”
“Living the postal service motto to the fullest,” I said from my end of the couch, where I’d been doing my homework.
Jesse cut me off as I headed toward the coat closet. “I’ll go get it.”
I gave him a wicked smile and rubbed my hands together. “My evil plan has worked.”
He tapped his temple. “I’ll remember that.”
I retreated to the couch and my thick afghan as Jesse slipped into his coat and stomped through the snow outside. I watched out the window as he raced across the yard to get our mail and his family’s, then raced back in again.
When he blew in the front door, so much snow covered his coat that he looked a bit like Frosty. I blinked dramatically at him. “My hero.”
He discarded his coat, cap, and gloves and stalked toward me. “Your hero needs warming up.”
I squealed as he jumped onto the couch and stuck his cold nose next to my neck.
“Oh my God, get away from me, icicle boy.” I tried to squirm away from him, but he trapped me with his arms and legs.
“I might be persuaded to free you.”
I knew what he wanted, but I played stupid. “And what’s the price of freedom?”
He wiggled his eyebrows.
I laughed, then gave him the kiss he sought. Truth was, I liked our kisses just as much as he did. We hadn’t talked long term, but the relationship we’d flowed into after the Snow Ball made us both happy. Neither of us seemed to want to mess with that happiness by posing big questions. For now, I wanted life to continue as simply as possible.
When he pulled away, I pushed him back and grabbed the mail he’d discarded on the coffee table. Bills, junk mail, doctor-type stuff for Dad . . .
I stared at the return address on the envelope in my hand.
“What is it?” Jesse asked, concern in his voice.
I looked up at him. “A letter from FIDM.”
“Your acceptance letter.” He sounded so sure.
“Or not.” I stared at the words I’d wanted linked to my name for years. Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising.
“Are you going to open it?”
“I don’t know.” I literally held the course of my future in my hand. It excited and frightened me at once.
Jesse turned my face toward his. “It’s an acceptance letter. Your designs are too good for it not to be.”
“But what if it is?”
Confusion tugged at his features. “That’s not a problem, is it?”
“What if I can’t hack it? What if I get homesick?” What if I couldn’t break myself away for fear of losing Jesse, the way I had Spencer?
That question made me realize how very much he meant to me now.
He caressed my cheek. “Don’t worry so much. You know they have planes between Anchorage and L.A., right? I even hear they fly between the two every day,” he teased.
I swatted his shoulder. “Why do I put up with you?”
“Limited dating pool.”
“There is that.”
He’d lightened the mood enough that I was able to face the letter again. With a deep breath, I ripped it open and pulled out the single sheet of paper. I paused a few more seconds before I calmed myself enough to read.
“Dear Ms. Craig:
It is my pleasure to inform you of your acceptance. . . .”
I didn’t get any farther. A huge smile stretched across my face as I jumped up and squealed. Then I plopped down next to Jesse and kissed him.
“I’m guessing you got in.”
“Yes.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “I’m happy for you.”
“I’m so excited I feel like I might be sick!”
“Make you a deal. If you get sick when you arrive in California, I promise to lose my cookies before my first game at UAA.”
“Wish I could see you play there.”
“I promise to have videos made and sent to you. All the girls at your school will be jealous.”
I pulled back. “They might think you’re too cocky for you own good.”
He shrugged and gave me another of those adorable crooked smiles. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
I was going to miss him. And Lindsay. And Caleb. They were all going to school at the University of Alaska Anchorage, just like my sisters.
He nestled me into the crook of his arm again, and I placed my head against his chest. “Things will work out,” he said. “Hey, I’m already envisioning spring break in So Cal. I might even let Caleb and Lindsay tag along.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Yes, bikinis as far as the eye can see.”
I punched him in the side. He feigned injury, then wrestled me halfway onto his lap so I was facing him. After a slow, sweet kiss, he looked a little more serious.
“One day at a time, remember?”
The phrase I’d used the night of the Snow Ball, when we’d sat in my living room and talked all night about Spencer, and how I could only let Jesse into my life a little more one day at a time. “But it’s easier when the people are in the same state,” I said.
“It doesn’t have to be easy to be worth it.”
I thought I might love him. No, I knew I did. But I had to take the chance of going after my dream. I owed that to Spencer who hadn’t gotten to live his.
I owed it to myself.
“Besides,” Jesse said, “I’m not that easily gotten rid of. When you walk down the red carpet at the Oscars, you’ll need a hot date.”
“Guess I better start looking when I get there, huh? ”
Jesse wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “Only if you think you have to.”
Peace and happiness settled side by side inside my heart, a heart no longer cold and empty but filled with possibilities.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Monica McCabe, for her tales of her time in Alaska and her willingness to let me pick her brain for the price of a Longhorn Steakhouse lunch.