The Tragedy Paper Read Online Free PDF Page B

walked to the door at the same time, almost knocking each other down like a comedy routine, and she giggled. I stepped back, letting her get to the door first, and followed her through.
    “So, what do you think, snowman or snowball fight?” she asked as we stood in the elevator. For a second I had almost forgotten where we were going, I was so focused on her. “If you choose snowball fight, we have to agree on an amount of time each of us is allowed to build a fort and compile ammunition. I always think seven or eight minutes are enough; my brothers usually fight for ten.”
    “Wow, you’re really serious about this,” I said. “But I have a better idea.”
    “What?” she asked just as the doors opened and we sawthe crowded lobby. For a minute the spell was broken. I was quiet as I followed Vanessa out of the elevator. All the faces turned toward us, and it didn’t seem like they were looking at my strangeness or Vanessa’s beauty. Their looks were calculating and a bit desperate.
    “Why do I feel like someone is going to jump us for our room key?” I whispered to Vanessa as we walked quickly toward the door. It whooshed open and we both breathed a sigh of relief.
    “So, what’s your idea?” she asked again.
    “How about we build an igloo?” I offered. Even now I don’t know where that came from. I was never allowed to build them when I was a kid because my mother thought they were dangerous (and sand tunnels too, for that matter). I never understood that. You could always push your way out, right? Besides, at that moment, the idea of being buried in the snow with Vanessa sounded pretty good.
    Vanessa surveyed the snow, judging how deep it was, and then leaned over to pick up a handful and consider its texture.
    “Good packing snow,” she concluded. “I’ve never made an igloo. How do you do it?”
    I really had no idea, but there was no turning back now.
    “Allow me to demonstrate the fine art of igloo assembly, Vanessa Sheller,” I said confidently. “Let’s push the snow into a big pile, maybe over there, and hollow it out. Then we can pack down the back and it should hold.”
    “Sounds like a good plan,” she said, but didn’t make a move to start building. “Wow, it’s beautiful out here.” I watched as she lifted her head to the sky and then caught a few snowflakes on her tongue. But for some reason what I was really mesmerized by was the way the snow collected at the top of her boots. I wondered if it dropped down at all to her ankles, making them cold. And then I imagined her socks. I hadn’t noticed them up in the room, but now I wished I had. Were they striped? Maybe they were green and yellow—that seemed to be her color combination. And what about her toenails—were they painted? And then I realized that standing out there in all the snow made me feel, amazingly, like I blended in instead of sticking out.
    “What are you waiting for?” I asked, starting to kick snow over to one corner of the empty parking lot just off to the side of the hotel. Vanessa joined in, picking up armfuls of the wet snow and adding to my pile. We worked like that for a long time, and eventually I gave up trying to stay dry. My jeans got soaking wet and my jacket was snow-covered. I didn’t have a hat with me so my hair was wet, but I liked it because I knew when my hair was wet, it could, especially in the dark, look almost brown.
    A snowball hit me from the side and I looked up to see Vanessa smiling at me.
    “Very funny,” I said, trying to act normal, not wanting to let on that I could barely breathe and that I knew I wouldremember that smile, and the feel of that snowball, for a long time.
    “Hey, you didn’t finish your side of the igloo,” I said.
    “You’re a real taskmaster,” she said, but she said it nicely.
    “You’re the one who wanted to come out and play in the snow,” I said. She had gone to the other side of the structure we were making and couldn’t see me, so I had time