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“Snow isn’t cold,”
“What?!” I was lying on my back in the snow wishing that you didn’t drag me out here. I could feel the cold starting to seep though my black hat and to my head.
“Its not,” you laughed at how ridiculous you sounded. I know you were just trying to act macho. You obviously weren’t succeeding.
I sighed and watched my warm breath show its self in the freezing air. My hands that were crossed over my chest gripped to the snow around me.
“Yes snow isn’t cold and I’m an alien from Mars.”
“Ha-ha very funny,” you said sarcastically. “But really, snow is like the earths natural blanket.”
I laughed at how you were trying to sound sophisticated when everyone knows that you, Ryan Michaels, are the goofiest kid around.
You looked over at me and smiled broadly. Then slowly your smile faded into a sincere stare.
“Do you ever think that a snowflake is exactly like another?” I said to ease the awkwardness of your stare.
You turned you head to face the sky “no,” you said sniffling from the cold. “All snowflakes are beautiful in their own ways.”
I didn’t say anything to this. I just lingered on the words.
“But,” you started, “I think snowflakes are like puzzle pieces. And a specific two are supposed to fit together.” You looked over at me again. “Perfectly.”
“But what if there’s an odd amount of snowflakes?”
“Then the odd one out will have to wait for its pair to come around.”
I smiled. “But will it?”
You tried to be subtle but I saw you inch towards me a little. “I think it will,”
“So that’s why snowflakes stick together.”
“No,” you said catching me off guard. “They all stick together to stay warm.” You laughed, “And that’s why snow is warm.”
I smiled and groaned. I was really starting to believe that you had a serious side. I grabbed a handful of snow and threw it in your face. You laughed and whipped it out of our eyes with your black gloves.
“Hey!” you said surprised, “look, I think I found a match,” I moved closer to your hands to look at the dissolving flakes on your glove.
“How?” I said, “Their microscopic!”
“Not if you look close enough,”
I moved even closer to your hand. Trying to look at this snowflake match I knew wasn’t even there.
“I don’t see it,”
“I do,” you cupped my chin in your black glove.
“What…” I whispered.
I knew what you were going to do next and I let you. You cautiously and gently kissed me in the snow that night. Slowly you pulled away but still held my chin in your hand.
“It’s you and me.”