We go quiet then, and I realize I’ve shared a little bit more about myself.
“Alright, well, ballet pink it is. I’ll remember that.” And Juniper isn’t laughing as she takes a final swing from her mug.
“You ready to make these hot chocolate bombs?” I say, after downing the last of mine. “We can have Ms. Mills take some candid pictures of us on my phone too. You know, for documentation.”
“Oh, I’m ready,” Juniper says with a grin. “Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER 12Juniper
SONG OF THE DAY:
“Merry Christmas Baby” by Etta James
The second week of December
arrives with icy gusts
of lake-effect wind
gray skies
and single-digit temperatures.
But a little cold
has never stopped me
from needing time in nature.
When Jamison suggests we run
the Fulton Park Trailhead together
after school
I accept the invitation
eagerly.
Ready?Jamison says, doing a set of high knees
next to me in the parking lot.
The full loop is about six miles.
Yep, I say, running in place.
Lead the way.
We take off toward the trail and trees
matching each other’s pace
letting the wind
the shuffle of our feet on dirt
guide us on
