The entire campus looked like it had been dunked in powdered sugar the morning following.
Fresh snow covered everything; the trees stood silent and tall beneath thick white coats, branches
heavy and glittery in the sunshine. The sky was that impossible winter blue, the kind that makes
your eyes water if you stare too long. As she crossed the gate, Sara tightened her coat; but inside,
she felt oddly warm, as though someone had started a tiny, steady fire right beneath her rib.
Benjamin came, cut across the road towards her just ten steps, barely ten. In that navy pea coat with
brass buttons reflecting the light, he looked well—very well. The cold had left him with a little pink
cheeks, and he had that same simple smile, but today it appeared a little softer around the edges, like he
was anxious too.
Sophie looked like she stepped out of a winter painting, wearing a deep emerald velvet gown next to
Sara. Half-joking and half-excited, she nudged Sara with her elbow and whispered, “Here comes the
real story.” Sara stayed quiet, just smiling. Benjamin caught up, his breath forming little clouds. “Hey,
you two look great. Seriously.” Sophie grinned back. “You're late for class.
We were about to freeze waiting.” Sara surprised herself by speaking up. “We weren’t sure we were that
early.”
They all laughed, the sound sharp against the frigid air, and then began walking toward the central
structure together. Under their shoes, the snow crunched just as it should be in the ideal winter manners.
Stolen glances across the room and a flurry of lectures and notes marked the remainder of the day.
Benjamin found Sara alone near the lockers by the time the last bell rang and the corridors were empty.
He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit she was starting to see. “So, about the weekend. Any ideas?”
Sara shook her head. "Nothing spectacular."
His countenance brightened, hopeful yet cautious. "There's Pride's Corner, a drive-in on Bridgton
Road. Six screens, pretty laid-back atmosphere. Could I get you Saturday around six? We might simply
converse, get something to eat, and check what's playing. If you're not interested, no great thing.”
Sara stared at him for a lengthy second. Though it was gentler now, almost like it was worn of battling,
the old terror attempted to whisper in her ear. She considered the last time he had waited for her
response. The manner he never pushed.
She nodded, little but confident. "Alright."
Although Benjamin kept it mild, his smile burst across his features. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," she replied, and for once it didn't feel like maybe or a lie. It was a legitimate answer.
Speaking about nothing significant, he walked her the rest of the way to the exit; when they stepped
outdoors into the snow-filled afternoon, the cold did not bite quite as much.
Something within Sara seemed to have at last clicked into position—not flawless, not permanently
fixed, but stable enough to travel.
She'd been too afraid to walk onto until now, like a bridge. Crisp and hopeful, this one is filled with
winter air, calm nerves, and that subtle change point.
The sentiments strike gently and honestly, precisely as a real person would recall the day everything
began changing.
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