Chapter 30. Juniper

Juniper

SONG OF THE DAY:

“What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” by Norah Jones

Lansing’s downtown ice rink

is significantly more crowded

than last time I was here

the ice itself nicked and overworked

the fairy lights

dancing like june bugs over the faces

of laughing families

couples holding mittened hands.

For the last two hours

I’ve been skating around in circles

trying to stay warm

trying to keep

my intrusive thoughts at bay.

I have no idea if Lyric

saw my live

or if she is going to show up

but I’m here

going in circles

making new tracks

trying to remember

this is my life to live.

This morning

over eggs and coffee

I sat Mom and Mama down

and told them I was going to do it

take a gap year

that I owed it to myself

to see it through.

Mom pursed her lips

but didn’t protest any further.

It sounds like you’re sure.

I am, I started, but

I’ve amended my plan a bit.

How’s that? Mama Alice said, perking up.

I did some research

and I found a job

that sounds perfect for me.

It’s through the YMCA.

Every summer, they look for

team leaders to accompany

rising ninth graders on service learning trips

across the country.

I’ve applied to be an assistant lead

on the service to the west trip.

And I got an interview next week.

If I get the job, I’ll be

living on a school bus

and sleeping on gym floors

for six weeks this summer

cleaning up graveyards

visiting national monuments

and state parks

alongside these kids.

It’s not exactly the road trip

I had planned

but it will provide me some safety

and it pays decently—so I can cover

my living expenses.

And what about after

the six weeks?

Mom asked

with a raised eyebrow.

Well, I haven’t figured

that out yet,

I said.

But I will.

To say that my moms

were enthusiastic

about my amended plan

would be a stretch.

But Mama Alice

did seem less worried

about safety

and Mom said she’d help me prep

for my interview

so that

was something.

Now, if Lyric would just

show up

so I can apologize in person

let her know

this has always been

real to me.

I’ll be OK.

I’d be lying if I said

that I don’t care

if she rejects me

because that will suck.

But I’d at least like the chance

to make things right.

I loop the rink again

faster this time

weaving in and out of bodies

until all my surroundings blur together.

It’s just past eleven.

I can hear the nearby speaker system

counting down

with a digital clock

an animated disco ball

projected on a big screen

waiting to drop at midnight.

If she doesn’t come

you will be OK,

I start to repeat in my head.

You tried, that’s all that matters.

I’m going so fast now

it feels like I’m a blue heron

gliding over Lake Michigan

untouched

unbothered by gravity.

And then for just a moment

it really seems as if

my feet are lifting

up from the earth.

And—oh shit.

That’s because they are.

I’ve lost my balance.

I hear someone scream: Watch out!

Then THUD, I’m down for the count

slamming into the guardrails

my beanie thrown off

lungs heaving.

So much for

defying gravity,

I mumble as I crawl around on my knees

rescuing my hat

from almost getting run over.

I’m about to pull myself up

to a standing position

when a wobbly pair of skates

accompanied by one of those walkers

kids learning to navigate the ice use

appears before me.

Well, well, well,

a familiar voice calls down to me.

My, how the tables have turned.

I scramble to my feet

ignoring my throbbing backside.

This is not

how I saw this going.

You’re here, I blurt out.

I am,

Lyric responds

her tone neutral.

She is wearing jeans

an oversized purple hoodie

that peeks out from under a black coat.

She is radiant

half of her braids thrown up

in two haphazard space buns

the rest flowing around her shoulders

and down her back

like a curtain of willow branches

in summer an oasis

of shade and warmth

and her skin

it glows—

as if the moon itself

is shining from within her.

I spent hours this morning

coming up with what I wanted to say

if she showed up

and now here she is

and I can’t find the words.

So, I say the first thing

I think of.

Did my live ruin

your BeautyStarz following?

Seriously

that’s what you want to start with?

Lyric snorts.

I thought it might have

but it turns out

it’s true what they say:

all publicity is good publicity.

Did I lose some followers? A few, sure.

But all in all your little confession

only made people want to know

what happens next.

With us?

I ask.

Yes, genius.

With us.

Lyric sighs.

You got me out here

on this treacherous-ass ice

again

so, what happens next?

I take a breath

and slide myself

closer to her on the ice

so that I am just inches

away from her mouth

and can look her in the eye.

All around us, people whiz by

but it feels like

we are in our own bubble.

I hold Lyric’s gaze.

I’m sorry,

I start.

I’m so sorry.

I messed this all up.

But if you’re willing

I’d like for us to try again, IRL.

It’s not the

speech I had planned,

but it feels honest

and to the point.

Before Lyric can respond

the crowd around us starts to chant

the final countdown to midnight

ticking away.

Look—I scream over the noise.

You don’t have to decide now

you can take as much time—

Hold that thought,

Lyric says, pressing her fingers

to my lips.

I go quiet

as Lyric removes her fingers

smiles and leans in toward me.

Happy New Year, Juniper,

she whispers, kissing me soft

and long

as “Auld Lang Syne”

starts to play

the sweet melody of the song

ringing all through the air.

And I am ringing too

my whole body

a vibrating shell of

song and snow

hope and desire

and maybe

this is what love is?

A ringing.

Circles and circles of growth

a choice to stand sturdy

and tall with someone

who wants to start again

whose touch is forgiveness

who wants to kiss your face off

in the cold until

it hurts good until

everything tingles with heat

and promise

the delightful unknown.

I pull back after

what feels like forever

my knees trembling.

So, that’s a yes?

I say.

So, you’ve had a crush on me

since the fall?

Lyric grins back.

About damn time!

someone yells from

behind us.

I turn around and see Kiana

holding a cup of hot chocolate

beaming at us.

Creeper!

Lyric teases

sticking out her tongue.

Kiana waves her off

with a short laugh.

Then she mouths something silent

to Lyric

and walks away

holding her phone to her ear.

What’s going on there?

I ask.

It’s Holden,

Lyric says.

He called her on our ride over

but Ki was driving criminally fast

to get me here on time

so she couldn’t answer.

Looks like

both of our New Year’s

are looking up.

I grin at Lyric

and then go in

for one more kiss.

This time she lets go of her walker

and wraps both arms

around my neck

so that we are

holding one another

sturdy.

When we come up for air

most of the rink has cleared out

except for a handful of committed others.

A Norah Jones

track starts to play

and it’s one of my favorites.

You ready to take a spin

with me?

I ask, hand outstretched to Lyric.

Hell no.

Lyric laughs

turning away from me

to hobble toward the exit

gripping her walker tight.

But you can buy me a hot chocolate!

she yells over her shoulder.

I laugh

and follow her

off the ice.

Once our skates are returned

I order us two

steaming cups of chocolate

and we find an open bench.

Get close,

Lyric says softly

as we sit down.

Hold me, please.

So, I do just that.

I wrap one arm around her

pulling her into me tight.

Then we sit

listening to Norah

sing the final notes of

“What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”

I don’t know

how long we’ll sit here

or if Lyric and I

will make it past next year.

For now, though, despite our wounds

our missteps and blunders

I choose her

and she chooses me.

For now, it’s enough to be here

witnessing the snow

coming down in fluffy, wet flakes

to be tucked close

in this dark sparkle of winter

where we are alive and brand-new

and full of wonder.

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