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Snowbound

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“They will,” Fiona predicted. “Hardly any sophomores go.”

“Do you think I’ll make the A team someday?”

Surprised, Fiona said, “Sure I do. Very likely next year,

with Erin and Troy gone. You just have to get bolder.”

“I know.” She fell silent for a moment. “What’s

everybody doing?”

“Reading. Playing games.”

“Oh.” She sounded wistful.

“As soon as you feel better, go on down. I’ll bet you

can get in on the Chinese checkers, anyway.”

She nodded, but said nothing.

Fiona hesitated. “It’s too bad you don’t have a

friend you could have talked into joining Knowledge

Champs with you. With Erin and Troy graduating next

year, we could use some more freshmen and sophomores.”

“I don’t, um, really have any friends. We moved in

August. From Denver. Dad took a new job in Portland.

I guess he thought we wouldn’t be as sad in a different

place. You know.”

“I imagine that sometimes a change of scene does

help. It’s hard leaving friends, though.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Nobody is that friendly

here! I wish I could go to the public school, but Dad

says I’ll get into a better college if I stay at Willamette.”

The prep school where Fiona taught did regularly

send graduates to colleges like Stanford, Columbia and

Yale. Still…

“Does he know how unhappy you are?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to make him sad

again. He thinks I love it here.”

Fiona wasn’t sure what to say. Willow, her brother

and dad were probably all pretending to be happier

after the move, none of them willing to acknowledge

anything was wrong with their new life. And, given her

grief, Willow might not do any better making friends at

the public high school.

With new determination, Fiona decided that she was

going to do her darndest to see to it that Willow did

make friends at Willamette Prep. A boyfriend would

follow. Minus the braces, she’d be a pretty girl if she

came out from behind the hair she hid behind and

smiled more often.

“Cramps letting up?” she asked.

“Yeah,” the fifteen-year-old said tentatively. Then,

“Yeah. I feel better.”

“Good. You want to come downstairs?”

“Um…I guess.” She released her death grip on the

pillow and rolled off the bed onto her feet. “I don’t

think Amy likes Hopper anymore.”

Fiona laughed. “I noticed. She’s not so crazy about

Troy, either.”

Willow wrinkled her nose. “He was kind of mean to

her. You know. Outside.”

“She should have dumped snow down his neck.”

Willow giggled, then pulled her lips over her braces.

Downstairs, Kelli and Troy had just finished a

game and he was saying, “I’m going to go find something to eat.”

Kelli spotted Willow, and to Fiona’s relief said, “You

want to play a game?”

“Sure.”

Fiona went to the small-paned window near the front

door and looked out. How could it still be snowing?

Another twenty-four hours of this, and the front porch

would be buried! They might have to tunnel out.

Turning away, she thought of choosing a book from

the tall cases along the wall beneath the staircase, but

realized she ought to find out first what John planned

for dinner and then decide on preparation and cleanup

crews. She was beginning to feel like an innkeeper. Did

they ever get to relax? Imagine if all the rooms upstairs

were full, as well as the cabins Dieter had told her were

down by the river. John must often cook for a crowd

three or four times the size of their group, and this was

enough work.

Troy came back from the kitchen crunching on an

apple and sank down to sit beside Kelli and watch the

game of Chinese checkers.

Fiona went to the kitchen.

John still sat at the kitchen table, but now had a book

open. At the sound of her footstep, he looked up.

“Hungry?”

“Lunch wasn’t that long ago. Only teenage boys are

hungry an hour after they get up from the table.”

He smiled briefly. Probably longing for her to go



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