IT’S A snow day, so I am reading and drinking hot cocoa underneath a large pile of blankets. That doesn’t stop the mail, though, and today it comes with a letter from my top college.
It holds good news. I celebrate with Darcy and Harper. I invite them over for the afternoon, and we have a snowball fight. It takes a few minutes to get me outside because I’m kind of wary of the snow, but they get me out anyways, and we have a pathetic snowball fight. We end up hurling whatever snow is in our hands at each other.
Somehow Darcy ends up on the ground, and we start to cover her in snow while she protests and scoops the snow off of her and tries to throw it back at us. She’s careful to avoid throwing it in our faces, mostly because she’s doing her best to not get Harper’s hearing aids wet, even though she has a hat pulled over her ears to keep them dry.
My mom watches from the window occasionally, and I assume she’s on the Internet bragging about me because that’s what she does. Or she’s working because she does have a job besides mothering all over the place.
It’s a lot of fun, and we end up piling back into my house, panting, out of breath from laughter, and covered in snow. We get yelled at for getting the carpet wet, but we’re forgiven.
We all celebrate that night. Darcy got into her top school where she’s going to major in English, like me, and Harper got into her second choice art school, where she’s going to work with graphic design. Given that we all have sufficient cause to celebrate, which we do by making pasta together, the one that I love. My mom is surprised, to say the least, when she comes down to find that we’ve cooked dinner.
It’s unanimous, though; we are mighty fine chefs. Especially me, I boiled the water after almost setting the pasta on fire because I am the antithesis of a great cook. Harper did most of the cooking and yelled at me every time I got too close to the stove, for fear of me nearly incinerating something else.
While we’re eating, we get a call from the high school and find that school is canceled for the next day. I immediately invite Harper and Darcy to sleep over, and they accept, leaving to go back to their respective houses and get everything they need.
We take over the living room because my bedroom is too small. Darcy claims the couch, making excuses about not being able to sleep properly on the floor. Harper helps me drag my mattress downstairs, and we set that up next to the couch in retaliation, and we both spend a few minutes laughing at Darcy’s jealous face. I offer to take the couch now that there is room for Darcy and Harper to cuddle and do that annoying couple stuff in front of me, and Darcy sheepishly accepts, claiming part of the mattress for herself.
After my mom goes to bed, we stay up talking for a little while. I begin to doze from my place on the couch when Darcy giggles. I lift my head and glare at her, but it’s lost in the darkness. The giggles stop after a moment before resuming again.
“What is so funny?” I ask blearily.
“I just remembered this really funny joke,” she replies. I throw a pillow at her, but miss and hit Harper, who sits up.
“If you two asshats are going to talk about the universe instead of sleeping, I’m putting my hearing aids back in.” Darcy and I burst into laughter, and Harper grumpily restores her hearing aids.
“So talk to me about the universe,” Harper demands.
“Darcy was giggling at some joke so I threw a pillow at her,” I fill her in, and Harper groans.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, that joke about the duck?” Darcy giggles again in response. Harper hits her in the arm.
“Why in the world did I fall in love with you, I’ll never know. I’m going back to sleep.” With an air of finality Harper takes out her hearing aids and flops dramatically onto her pillow, the flopping noise echoing in the room. Darcy giggles again, and I stare at the ceiling, listening as the couple on my mattress slowly falls asleep. I think about how nice it is to have awesome friends before I fall asleep.
We make pancakes in the morning, which Darcy handles. She takes after Harper in yelling at me every time I go near the stove, so I alternate between supplying and eating chocolate chips instead. It’s nice.