The Tragedy Paper Read Online Free PDF

her bed and ate hungrily, dripping syrup on the blanket and her shirt. I was in awe of her lack of self-consciousness.
    I sat at the desk. Everything was delicious, and once I started eating, I couldn’t stop.
    “So, what do you like to do? I mean, what are your hobbies?” she asked. I couldn’t help but laugh. She was trying to make dinner conversation.
    “I like to read,” I said, realizing immediately that it sounded dorky. “And I like to run. Cross-country.” I didn’t tell her how running was one of the best ways for me to escape and be alone. But I did tell her it made me happy.
    “Me too! I’m on the track team at school,” she said, looking up. She dripped some maple syrup on her leg. Shesaw me watching and used her finger to wipe it off, then stuck her finger in her mouth.
    “Oh, sorry, I am such a pig. I love this stuff,” she said. “At school they do this once a week—have breakfast for dinner. Waffles, omelets, frittatas, quiche, cinnamon buns. Some people hate it, but I love it.”
    “Where do you—” I started to say, realizing I had no idea where she was traveling to, but she cut me off.
    “You know what this makes me want to do?” she said, looking the happiest I’d seen her. “This makes me want to play in the snow!”
    “You’re kidding me, right?” I said. “I book the last hotel room within twenty miles and all you want to do is go outside?”
    “Well, yes, actually,” she said, smiling. “But I’ll be happy to come back in after.”
    “That’s a relief,” I said. “For a minute I thought I did all this for nothing. And can I mention how nasty it is out there?”
    She jumped up and went to the window.
    “It doesn’t look so bad,” she said. “There’s a parking lot right down there that looks empty. We could build a snowman!”
    I joined her at the window and looked down. Our hands were dangling next to each other. Again, the energy.
    “Maybe we could make a snow statue of that man who got sick on the plane,” I suggested.
    She looked at me like I was crazy.
    “Like a voodoo snowman,” I explained. “Maybe we could make him better that way.”
    We laughed for a minute, and it felt really good.
    “I wonder what was wrong with him,” I said.
    “Brain aneurysm is what I was thinking,” she said matter-of-factly.
    “Oh, I was hoping he was just dehydrated or something,” I said seriously.
    Again, she laughed. I hadn’t meant that to be funny, but I would take her laughter any way I could get it. I stood there trying to think of what else she might find funny.
    “So, what is it about eating pancakes that makes you want to play in the snow?” I finally asked, desperate to break the silence.
    “Every winter when I’m home, my mother makes us pancakes on a snowy morning—just like this with bacon and syrup—and then my brothers and I spend the rest of the day in the yard playing. It’s usually one of my favorite days of break.”
    “How many brothers do you have?” I asked, stalling. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go out there.
    “Stop stalling,” she said, reading my mind. “And I have three brothers. Are you ready?”
    “Yes,” I said.
    We started pulling stuff out of our backpacks. I decided to keep on my jeans and put my sweats on when I got backinside. Did they have holes? Please, don’t let them have holes!
    She was already wrapping a green scarf around her neck and pulling on her coat. When I didn’t move, she stopped and looked at me.
    “I’m not going to give up,” she said. “If you don’t come, I guess I’ll just go alone. You know that book
If You Give a Moose a Muffin
? Well, in this case,
If You Give a Girl a Pancake in a Snowstorm
 … I am unstoppable.”
    Vanessa tossed me my jacket and I put it on, watching as she continued to twist her green scarf around her neck so that her braids were stuck underneath it. I had an urge to walk over and free them from their captivity—but I didn’t.
    We stood for a minute and then