Perfect. Part 8

The snow around me loosens.

I am yanked backward. My lungs grab air. My eyes find color. I'm free.

My Rescuer Rolls me onto my back. Are you okay? d.a.m.n, girl, it's a good thing I happened to come this way. You're crazy to shoot trees solo. She looks down at me with black walnut eyes, and in them I find equal parts disgust, amus.e.m.e.nt, and awe. She offers her hand, pulls me up on my feet. "Thanks."

I should say more, but it hits me that this stranger might have saved my life. All repartee deserts me. She is close to my age. Tall.

Exotic. I don't know her, but I want to. Our eyes lock, and I feel something stir. Something restless.

Disquieting. A rustle of leaves.

A rattle of gla.s.s. A snarl, before the witch wind awakens, screeching, impossible to ignore.

And this person is to blame.

She smiles, and I like how warm that makes me feel. I am melting.

Maybe we should buddy up?

Why not? "S-sure." The voice is throaty, not mine at all. Oh my G.o.d. What's wrong with me?

My face flares, dry-ice hot.

She can't help but notice. You sure you're okay? You look...

never mind. She lowers her goggles.

I'm Danielle, by the way. Uh, Dani.

"Cara." G.o.d, could I manage multiword sentences, maybe?

"And thanks again." There.

Three words. Blood whooshes in my ears and I barely hear her say, No problem. She turns, pushes off, and I follow her down through snow-draped trees.

This Part Of The Hill Is steep. Unforgiving. A lot of work. But Dani surfs it like she was born on a board. To keep up, I have to forget about face- plants and possible outcomes.

Finally we exit the trees, and our trail merges with a beginner run.

Newbies and posers fan out across the gentle slope, some upright, some on their b.u.t.ts, some flat on their backs like sea lions sunning.

Dani cuts through them. I follow.

I hate crowds, and would call it quits, except... I'm not sure.

I feel scared. Hopeful. Borderline sick, sort of like it's my first day at a new school. I watch Dani hold a tight line down the side of the run. Confident. Lithe.

Bold. Oh yes, I have to know her.

It Isn't Until We are both seated safely on the (slow-hurray!) chair that it hits me. "You said I was crazy to shoot trees solo. So what about you?"

What about me, what? She scoots sideways, her knee touches mine.

And for some crazy reason, I want her to kiss me. Wait. What?

She hasn't come on to me at all.

Oh. She's waiting for my answer.

"Why did you take that way down?

You were riding all by yourself."

She shrugs. Maybe I'm psychic.

I saw you go that way. Figured I'd better keep an eye on you.

Why are you alone, anyway?

Keep an eye on me? How long was she watching me? My turn to shrug.

"I asked my boyfriend to come, but he had baseball practice."

Oh. She makes a point of moving her knee away from mine. For some reason, I had a different idea about you. I thought you might be...

I slide my leg back against hers.

"I might be." Then I admit, "But I'm not sure." I don't say that falling in love with a girl doesn't fit well in my master plan. Love?

What dark little recess of my brain did that word creep out of?

This isn't fire. It's only a spark.

Well, I definitely am. I've known since I was, like, five and wanted my Barbies to get married. To each other. My friends were disgusted.

Her Laugh Is So Freaking s.e.xy Husky. Deep. And totally real.

Somehow I doubt she's fake about much. "What about your friends now?" But there's no time for her to answer.

The chair swings wide at the top of the hill. Together we stand, move to one side to discuss the best way down.

Let's take that long beginner run around the back of the mountain.

A no-brainer will be fun. She doesn't wait for me to say okay, so I trail her along a wide track, dodging snow-plowers.

She seems to take a wrong turn into a thick stand of trees.

But when she stops, I realize she came this way purposely.

We are curtained by pines.

When I draw even, she looks into my eyes, sending shivers up my spine. Have you ever kissed a girl? Her boldness is a surprise, but when I shake my head, her reaction is no more than I expected. And honestly, hoped for. Dani's lips are soft, raspberry gloss sweet. The kiss is tentative, but only for those few moments that can never happen again.

Desire is scratching at the door.

Terrifying. Electrifying. But I have to know what it means. I inhale the perfume of the forest, of the girl.

The two are intoxicating.

Dani stops. Pulls back. So?

The kiss was saturated with need.

I feel light-headed. Hungered.

The witch wind has been freed.

Kendra

Light That's how I feel- like the winter-fringed breeze might scoop me up into its wings, fly away with me trapped in its feathered embrace.

I am a snowflake.

A wisp of eiderdown, liberated from gravity. My body is light. Ephemeral.

My head is light.

I want to sway beneath the weight of air, dizzy with thought.

Light filters through my closed eyelids.

The sun, chasing shadows, tells me I'm not afloat in dreams.

Dreams Keep me in bed late this morning.

Usually I'm up with the sun, but not when I'm slow dancing with Conner.

Even in sleep, the familiar scent of his skin-clean and tinged with some deep woods perfume-fills the vacant place inside me, the one he emptied when he left me behind.

But well beyond daybreak, he holds me so tightly I can barely draw breath.

We move to the music, and his lips buzz against my ear. I love you. I want you.

Then, as dreams often do, the scene shifts, fast-forward, and we are floating on a sea of soft summer gra.s.s, clothes strewn around us like wildflowers.

Conner traces the outline of my body, fingers dipping lightly into the concave s.p.a.ces between each rib. Perfect. He kisses the line of my jaw, down my neck, to the raised ridge of collarbone. His tongue slides across it. Mmm. Delicious. What else can I taste? He finds other places, each more intimate than the last, and I am beyond ready to let him take me all the way there. But just as I think we finally will, he sits up. Pulls far away. I don't know what to say except, "Don't stop."

I'm sorry, he answers. I can't stay. And even though I can still feel his hand stroking the hill of my hip, he is gone.

I wake, crying out for someone never there.

I Don't Feel Light Anymore I feel like someone has tied bricks to my arms and legs. Weighted by loss, I lie immobile for maybe twenty minutes, eyes closed, hoping I'll fall back into the dream, find Conner has changed his mind. But I don't sleep. Don't dream.

Across the room, I hear Jenna stir.

She always sleeps late on weekends.

If I'm still in bed, it usually means I'm sick. When she notices me, she gasps.

But she doesn't bother being quiet.

What's up with you? Got the flu?

My head never leaves the pillow.

"Don't know." What am I going to say? That I want to go searching for Conner? "Why do you care?"

I don't want to catch anything nasty.

Keep your germs all to yourself.

She goes to the closet, digs for a bit, emerges with one of my favorite sweaters-a cornflower angora. Hey.

Can I wear this? Pretty please?

Is she crazy? "Not even. Not the way you treat my clothes."

It doesn't fit you anymore, anyway.

She slips it on. See? Just right.

I have to admit it looks great on her, accentuating each and every curve.

I would probably swim in it. "Okay."

When was the last time I wore it?

Jenna Goes To Shower And when she emerges from the bath- room, steam trailing her, there's something about her that I can't attribute to the sweater, or the makeup, or the way she has blow-dried her long white-gold hair. At last, I pull myself upright. "Um... got a big date or something?"

Fact is, I've never seen her with a guy.