Page 15 of Things I Read About

“Janie. I’m going to need you to whisper until the coffee kicks in,” Kat groans across the small dining table from Janie and me.

I speak up, even though I’m in the middle of chewing an orange slice. “No one said serial killer. It’s just, I said assassin and he didn’t correct me.”

“Great. Your sister asks me to look out for you and I let you offer yourself to a psychopath on a platter. Just fantastic.”

“No, no, no.” Kat huffs. I think she’s rolling her eyes, but she has sunglasses on. She clearly had more to drink than I did. “He was just messin' with her. He seemed normal. Quiet, maybe, and very large?” She gestures up and down with her hands. “But he can’t help that God made him the size of a small mountain, right? He made polite conversation, he paid for our drinks. Quit freaking out.”

“Did he seem normal to you?” Janie asks me, still very much freaking out.

“No.” I smile. “Not at all normal.”

Janie throws her head into her hands.

“We need to get you your own not-normal man,” Kat says into her coffee mug. “Someone to wipe away all your Theo woes.” She takes a few chugs.

“That’s not a bad idea.”

Janie shakes her head at us. “I’m off the market. I’m officially doing me. I need to figure out who I am and what I want.” She stands. “And, what I want is to go carve up that mountain. How long until your hangover cure starts working?”

“Not long,” Kat answers, lifting a huge, greasy breakfast sandwich off her plate. “We can suit up; I’ll be good to go by the time we make it to the lifts.”

She is not good by the time we make it to the lifts.

She peels off to find more coffee. Janie and I ski together on the blue trails and even one black. She never asks if we need to slow down or switch trails. She doesn’t ask if I remembered sunscreen or eye drops. Or tease me about how I was still tubing instead of skiing when I was fifteen.

Even when Kat joins, there is no care taking. Just fun. We also don’t talk about finals or the MCAT, which is another lovely turn of events. If Malloryhad come, she and I would be spiraling around that topic so badly I probably would skip skiing to study.

Wait, should I skip skiing to study? That’s probably not a bad idea, even if my practice results have been great, I—

“Yo. Sally McStares-Off-Into-Space. Come on back,” Kat almost yells into my ear.

“S- sorry.”

“No worries. I’m sure you were just calculating how exactly you’re going to cure brain cancer before you turn thirty, but Janie said we should call it a day early so you can get ready for your date.”

I nod.

My date.

Janie shoves off and Kat pulls her visor down. “K. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Actual quote is blow thispopcornstand. MinneapolisMorning Tribune. 1955. I never could figure out how such an obscure line ended up as a cultural phenomenon, still used over sixty years later.“Hey,less thinking, more skiing, doc.”

Right.

“Coming,” I call after Kat. I smile. What an awesome day, and the best part is still to come.

_____

“I should have just said dinner. Why didn’t I say dinner?” I whine nervously.

“No, this is a nice, low-risk alternative. Public place, minimal intimacy, you can make a quick escape if necessary.”

“Can you not?” Kat lowers the straightener from my head and points it at Janie. “You’re venturin' into Susan territory.”

“All right.” Janie sighs, relaxing her shoulders. “Plus, night skiing is fun and bold and that’s what this week is all about, right?”

“True, but…” They both freeze, waiting for me to go on. “I’ve never actually been, though. I’ve always been kind of scared of night skiing.”