The Dead of Winter (Seasons of Jefferson: Book 2) (20 page)

“She will. I’m gonna get her back. I just have to come up with a plan. Right now, that involves finding her the perfect Christmas gift. I have it all planned out. I’m going to recreate my favorite memory with her. There’s gonna be a fire, s’mores, and I’m going to have our song playing on my iPhone. My only problem is, I haven’t thought of the gift.”

Jenna’s face is all screwed up as she listens to my plan. She giggles silently and shakes her head, as she turns back to the front of the room. I hadn’t even noticed that class has been in full swing for some time. Mrs. G hasn’t said a word.
Proof that she loves me.
I glance back over to Jenna just as she whips her head back around to me. “Hey Loverboy, got an idea! Why don’t you try something from one of those personalization stores? They have stuff that’s meaningful. Plus, you can put her name on it.”

“Good idea. I’ll check it out,” I whisper quickly when I notice Mrs. George’s eyes coming down on me. Her eyes are warning me to pay attention. I drop my phone into my lap and look up.
I’d better at least listen for a minute.

“I know we’re only halfway through, but we’re going to have a great research project to go with this story. I want you all to be thinking about your own family. Where you came from. How did you get to be where you are at this very moment? For some of you, whose families keep a family tree, this could be easy. For others of you, not so much. Start asking questions at home to see what you can find out. Learn a little about your family background. You’ll be surprised what you might uncover.”

Yes! I’ve got this. Thanks to my mom and my super awesome aunt, I know exactly where I came from. Ireland … well, mixed with a sprinkle of Portugal and a few other Celtic nations. More Christmas shopping for me.
I look back down at my phone, when I realize this isn’t going to be so easy on Jenna.
What’s she going to do? She was adopted from Russia. How’s she going to do this project?

My eyes meet Jenna’s, “Are you okay with this? How are you going to do this project?”

“Same way you are. Work my tail off to figure it out. This is a family tree, not a genetic tree.”

I’m so wrapped up in my conversation with Jenna that I don’t hear the lunch bell ring. Everyone begins to stand and move out the door.

“Hey, if you need some help getting started on the project, I can skip the snow sports meeting. I kind of want to look for Peyton anyway. She wasn’t in first period, and I didn’t see her at her locker this morning.”

“No way. I’m fine. You are going to be on that team. I have a feeling it’s gonna be the best thing you’ll do for yourself this winter. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if I see Peyton. Now get to that meeting.”

I step outside and spot everyone standing in the middle of the quad. “I’m on the team! I just can’t compete without a note from my doctor.”

Brody, Kaitlyn, and Jenna seem genuinely happy for me. “That’s great! Do you think you’ll be released soon?”

“Oh yeah. It’s feeling good.” I rotate my arm and stretch it out. “Ever since I got to lose the sling, I can feel the life coming back into this puppy. I’ll probably have to miss the first race, but I’ll be good to go for the next one.”

“So happy for you, man.” Brody slaps my back.

I’m totally uninterested in small talk. My mind has been on one thing all day, and I need to get it taken care of. “So have there been any Peyton sightings today?” I look around at my friends’ faces. I watch their perky smiles drop to sullen grimaces.
T looks at the ground. She never does that unless she’s hiding something.

“Out with it, Sis. What’s up?”

Hesitantly she mutters, “I’ve got a little bad news.”

“Yes?”

“Well, during my TA period, I was running notes around for the office. They handed me a stack to put into the teachers’ mailboxes. Normally, I wouldn’t do this, but I saw Peyton’s name, so I looked.”

“Looked at what, Kaitlyn? Out with it.”

“Well, they were unenrollment slips. I had one for each of her teachers.”

Silence.

“She left school, Caden. Peyton doesn’t go here anymore.”

“RISE AND SHINE, CADEN! IT’S
race day.”

I glance up at the large, red numbers on the clock next to my bed. “It’s 6:30 on a Saturday, Mom. I don’t get to race anyway. Can’t I just skip this one?” I turn over and bury my face in the pillow, remembering how humiliated I am that I have to go up to the mountain as a helper and not a racer.

“Race or not, you need to get down to that bus. You made a commitment, and you’re not going to keep them waiting.”

I close my eyes, and before I know it the big red numbers are a distant memory.
I’m standing behind the starting gate. The buzzer goes off. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I move? I’m stuck. This is so embarrassing. DQ’d on the first race? What the hell?

“Caden. Now! You’re going to be late.”

I pry my eyelids open and look back at the clock. 6:32. “Ugh.” I untwist myself from my flannel sheets and jump down to the floor with a thud. I feel like a fork twisted up with spaghetti. “Coming, geez.” I kick the covers furiously as I start toward the door, all the while whining at my mom.
She’s got to be the most annoying alarm clock ever invented.
She doesn’t even give me the nine minute snooze time afforded by most standard clocks.

“Step on it. You need to be down there in ten minutes. Here’s a piece of toast.”

I gag when I look at the dry piece of crispy french bread. I can’t stomach the thought of eating first thing in the morning. “You know I don’t eat breakfast.”

“Shove it in there. I’m not letting you leave this house without
something
in your stomach.” She’s being excessively pushy today, but looking down at my watch, it’s a good thing she is. I’m about ready to miss the bus.

Within ten minutes, I’m showered, have my gear together, and we’re headed out the door. “Are you sure you don’t just want to take my car?”

I fumble for an excuse. “Nope. I heard someone’s been breaking into cars near the school. No use letting a perfectly good car sit in a parking lot all day just waiting to be vandalized.”
There. That sounded reasonable, and it’s true.
Even Jenna discovered she had a missing flash drive the other day. She swore she left it on the front seat of her car with her research project.
The crap high schoolers steal.

My mom’s eyes squeeze together as though she’s questioning my sincerity, then sarcastically she mumbles, “It’s nice to know I’ve raised such a thoughtful son.” I’m sure she thinks I’m just being lazy, but she smiles and plays along, closing the door behind us.

It’s a quick ride down the street. My mom leans over the seat trying to lay a wet, sloppy kiss on my cheek. I pull away, shoving my face into the icy window. “Gross. Your students are probably watching through the windows.” One of the perks of being a teacher’s kid is that you generally face embarrassment exponentially more than any of your classmates.

“You know I’m just messing with you. I know you’re too grown up for mommy’s goodbye kisses. Have fun today, honey. It’s good you’re not racing. You can see how everything works so you’re ready for next time.”

I roll my eyes and turn my head for a cheek to cheek goodbye. I know she was just trying to start my day out with a good laugh, so I humor her. “Yeah, thanks, Mom. It should be great.” I don’t let on how bitter I am that I don’t actually get to race this week. The doctor said he would release me for the next competition, but this race, I’m there to play flag boy.
Lame.

When my mom pulls up to the big gym, everyone’s already loaded onto the bus. It’s a little tricky carrying my gear with one arm, but I manage to get my bag and board over to the driver who loads it for me. Coach Rico steps aside so I can get up the stairs, “Hey Woodley, glad to see you made it. We almost left without you.” He stops, looks around the bus, and then back at me. “Good luck finding a seat in there. Slim pickins’ if you ask me,” he laughs. “Hop on in.”

I walk down the aisle looking at everyone, crammed in with their bags, blankets, and pillows. There’s an open seat next to Tessa.
Hmm. Not enough room there, too many books.
Next open seat is Quenton. He stretches his leg across the seat and looks at me with his don’t-even-think-about-it glare.
Moving along then.
About three quarters of the way back, I see a seat next to one of our exchange students.
This one will be good.
“Hey, Lennart, mind if I sit next to you?”

“Yeah, sure. Let me just move my camera.”

“Cool, is that a GoPro?”
Yes … More great footage for senior video.

“Yeah, I just bought it. I was hoping we could get some good shots up on the mountain.”

“Sounds cool.” I say, squishing into the seat next to him. “You sure you don’t mind if I sit here? It’s a little tight.”

“To be honest, I was hoping someone would sit next to me, so that guy wouldn’t.” He tilts his head toward the front of the bus, just as the French guy is walking through the door.

I’m confused. “I thought you were buddies. Don’t all exchange students hang out together?”

“Not all of us. Daemon’s in a different program. He kind of does his own thing.”

“Dang, I was hoping you could tell me if he likes my friend, Jenna. He seems to have a thing for her lately.”

“The cute, aggressive blonde on the basketball team?”

I guess other guys would see her as cute. And definitely aggressive. I have to smile when I picture her barreling across the court, stealing the ball from another guard, and going in for a layup. “That would be her.”

“Sorry. No clue.” Lennart shakes his head and looks back up toward the front of the bus. Daemon makes his way down the aisle searching for a seat. When he finally spots one next to Lily, he plunks down across the aisle, one seat up. Lennart watches him sit down and take out a jar of peanut butter. He covers his nose as he turns toward me. “I don’t know how people can eat that stuff. Thanks for sitting here.”

I chuckle, “Any time.”

It’s a quiet hour long ride to the snow park. Most of my teammates have slept the entire way. Well, except for the AP kids, who did their homework by the light of their cell phones. “Make sure you have your bibs on and you’re ready to go,” I hear Coach’s voice boom to the back of the bus. Everyone begins shuffling around, stacking blankets, and closing books. I glance up to see Daemon fumbling with his phone. I catch a glimpse of his background picture. It looks like a swimmer. It’s oddly distorted.
Much too puffy to be any of our swimmers
. I look again, noticing it’s been enlarged
. Oh I get it, he’s so socially awkward that nobody will let him get near enough for a closeup.
I accidentally laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny?” Lennart wears a smirk as he quizzes me.

I look down and put my finger to my lips. “Shh. I’m trying to get a better view of something.”

I strain to look back over his shoulder.
No way.
I squint to make sure I’m seeing who I think I’m seeing. And there it is, blown up large enough to cover the screen, a picture of Jenna cheering behind the diving block.
What do you know? He does have a crush on her. I’m going to have fun with this one.

“Grab your stuff, and take a run. We’ll be slipping the course when y’all get back down to the lift.”

My attention snaps back to the front of the bus where our coach is giving instructions.
I wonder what he wants me to do while they warm up?
I need to have a chat with him. I walk up beside him, waiting for him to give a few of the skiers directions. “Hey Woodley, if you’re up for it, you can take an easy run and feel it out. No tricky stuff. No black diamonds. I’m going to need you for the race next week.”

Schwank! He’s actually letting me strap in?!?
A flood of excitement runs over me. I’ll actually get a chance to show some of these people that I wasn’t put on the team for my good looks.
“You’ve got it, Coach. I’ll stay off of Coyote for today. Nothin’ but easy stuff.”

“Right. I don’t want to have to answer to your mother if I get you hurt out there. Meet us back here in about twenty. I’ll be using you for flagging today.”