Chapter 201

this year which is weird as hell. We’re in central California, for heaven’s sake.

“Global warming,” Miranda says, as she stands there with her palms lifted toward the sky, tiny flakes melting on her palms. Tonight’s the talent show, but nobody really cares anymore, since all anyone wants to do is play in the snow or—depending on their year in school—talk about the winter formal, the ski trip, or, for us third years, the option of a weekend trip to San Francisco to see the ballet and the symphony.

It’s not hard to figure out what I want to do. Even though Dad and I have used those tickets Zack bought us a couple of times already, I can never get enough. We even used the third pass to take our old neighbor, Mrs. Fleming. She might be deaf, but she said she could feel the vibrations and enjoyed the show anyway.

“You know what John said to me today?” Andrew says, tucking his hands into his pockets and shivering as white fluff settles across the gardens. It’s not thick