Page 31 of Falling Like Snow

“Oh my god, no. I just… I can’t believe you built this for me. It had to take forever.”

“I started Monday after school. I did have to hang the lights on the house, but this is the real reason I skipped the soup kitchen today, sorry.”

I let out a laugh. “You’re forgiven.”

“I wanted it to be bigger, but it was harder than I thought it’d be.”

“It’s perfect.”

He nods. “Are you still hungry?”

“Always.” I grab my phone and tap my music app. “But you know what’s missing? The best Christmas song.”

I press play and “My Favorite Things” fills the cramped dome.

“Absolute blasphemy that this is your favorite Christmas song,” he mumbles, handing me a sandwich. “I love The Sound of Music as much as the next guy, but this is a Broadway song. Not a Christmas song.”

“That’s why it’s the best—it’s both.”

Asher doesn’t argue as we both take bites of our sandwiches, the frozen walls absorbing the music.

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things

“What?” I ask, noticing Asher watching me. “Do I have peanut butter on my face?”

“No. Nothing,” he says, averting his eyes and taking another bite.

“Thank you, by the way. I don’t know if I said that.”

“You don’t need to. But you’re welcome.” He scans the walls almost critically. “Wish it was actually an NYC igloo.”

“I don’t know. I think this might be better.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, as if I’m just saying it to be nice.

But I’m listening to music and eating sandwiches with my best friend in this snowy homemade dome, surrounded by thousands of twinkling lights, and all I can think is that these are a few of my favorite things.

I’m truly not sure New York could have beaten this surprise.

I’m fighting off a headache on Monday afternoon as Mr. Dowdell drones on about… well, whatever it is we’re learning in precalc. Hiding my phone behind the broad shoulders of the guy sitting in front of me, I text Micah.

Me: So I’m thinking like four or five different designs, each one with a different holiday pun, maybe with a simple image.

Micah: who is this

Sloane, I type.

A second later, a message comes through.

Micah: which one? you’ll have to be more specific

I frown at my phone.

Me: Between keeping up with hockey, school, and all the Sloanes you’ve apparently offered to make shirts for, you must stay pretty busy.

Micah: haha i can’t believe you waited till now to text me. im trying to be a good student you know