Snow Storm

Eva Lennert, Guest Editorial

Of course the one day I’m supposed to meet my mother for dinner is the day it snows two feet after not snowing all winter. I peer down the bus aisle, trying to gauge if the bus is even moving. 

My eyes lock on a girl with long black hair and amber skin. She glances back at me, smiling as she pushes thick peach-colored glasses up her wide nose. My stomach swoops, I haven’t felt this in a long time, but I manage a hesitant smile. She turns back around. What am I doing? I lean back in my seat, running a hand through my auburn hair, deciding what to do. My eyes slide sideways. She’s looking at me again, out of the corner of her eye. My face flushes red. Why not. I think as I stand up, feigning a stretch. She smiles at me, and a smile spreads across my face like honey. I step into the aisle and saunter towards her, as best as one can with limbs sprawled into the aisle, children screaming and people arguing. Thank goodness I’m in the back, with fewer people I think, taking my eyes off the floor for a moment. I stumble over a bag sticking out into the aisle and nearly fall into the girl I came to see. 

“Oh, sorry!” I yelp as I straighten. 

“That’s ok. I’m Laney.” She stretches out a hand for me to shake, rings on three of her fingers, nails clipped short. 

“Willow,” I say, shaking her hand. 

“So, how did you come to be stuck on this bus with me?” She asks, running a hand through her wavy ebony hair. 

“Oh, I was supposed to meet my estranged mother for dinner, but instead I met you,” I reply, wincing internally. Why am I oversharing already? 

“Tell me about her.” She says, patting the empty seat next to her. 

“There’s really not much of a story,” I admit, picking at my nails as I sit down. “There must be if she’s estranged,” She jokes, bumping her shoulder into mine. I laugh. “What about you? Why are you here?” 

“I was supposed to go home for Christmas,” She mutters, playing with the silver ring on her left pointer finger. 

“You don’t sound too excited about that.” 

“It would be the first time my parents had seen me since I’ve come out.” She admits, adjusting her glasses again. 

“Oh,” I say, taken slightly aback. “I’m guessing they didn’t take it very well?” “Oh, no they took it fine but it’ll be awkward telling my Aunt Iza that I’m not looking for a boyfriend.” 

“I see.” My pale skin flushes, head spinning as I decide what to say next. “And why did you choose this time to meet your estranged mother for dinner?” She asks, head lifting to look at me. 

“Since it’s Christmas Eve?” I shrug. “Couldn’t tell you.” 

The bus roars to life with a sound like a jet plane breaking the sound barrier. Shouts of joy erupt around us. Laney whoops, turning her head to look at me. 

“What if we don’t visit our families for Christmas?” I ask suddenly. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Why not?” 

“Willow, I met you less than ten minutes ago.”

“Do I seem like a serial killer?” I ask, gesturing to my brown corduroy skirt and favorite purple sweater. 

“No, not particularly.” 

“So have dinner with me, Laney.” 

She surveys me, brown eyes boring into my blue. “Alright then, but I get to choose where.” 

My entire body relaxes. “It’s a date?” 

“It’s a date.”