Page 5 of Falling Like Snow

We all look at each other.

“Thank you for your support and enthusiasm. Meeting adjourned!” Mom chirps with a smile.

As everyone slips into their coats, mumbling to one another about how busy this month is going to be, Mom joins me in the corner.

“Thank you so much for stepping up,” she says.

“No problem,” I tell her.

“Listen, I know you’ve been planning on going to New York over winter break,” she says. “I would never keep you from that. At least not for this. But I do appreciate your help, so just know that if you decide to stay, I will love you forever.”

“You’ll love me forever either way.”

“True, but I might love you a little less if you go,” she says, leaving no doubt where I get my sarcasm and witty comebacks.

“You’re cruel.”

She wraps me in a hug. “Seriously, though. If you still want to go, I’m totally okay with it. I can manage without you, so I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay.”

But I do! I want to scream. Because a new festival with several events throughout the month is a huge undertaking. And even if she can pull it off herself, she’s going to be a ball of stress all of December. She needs me.

Her arms fall to her sides as she lets me go. “Oh, and will you see if Ellis can ask Fern to share any information or updates on her social media?”

“Sure.”

Fern Berry is Ellis’s best friend back in New York. She’s a content creator who’s pretty much become famous for her restaurant reviews. Her Falling Leaves Festival videos racked up tons of views and are the reason Bramble Falls is getting noticed now.

So, basically, she’s to blame for me not getting to go to NYC. As much as I loved her when I met her, I might have to hate her now.

As Mom cleans up the extra muffins and puts the orange juice cartons back in the refrigerator, I pull out my phone and start a group text.

Mandatory friend meeting at the diner at 1pm today!

Then I go upstairs and unpack my snobby purple suitcase.

Bramble Falls is quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The sound of kids playing in heaping piles of leaves is long gone; no friendly faces sip hot tea and shout lively greetings from their porches, no smells of cinnamon and cider waft from downtown, mixing with the earthy scent of fall. Maybe I just got used to the festival frenzy that has now come to an end, but as I walk the two blocks to the diner, everything feels a little depressing. The mostly bare trees and dull gray sky only reinforce my gloomy mood. I tug my hat down so it covers my ears and pull my ruby-red coat sleeves over my numb fingers, trying to shield myself from the frigid air. It’s uncharacteristically cold for the end of November, which ordinarily I wouldn’t mind—because winter!—but today it only makes me wonder if it’s a bad omen from Mother Nature.

When I reach town, a group of four elderly women—lovingly known by locals as the Gossip Girls—are walking around the square, bundled up and sipping coffees from the Caffeinated Cat, the local cat café. Their voices are hushed but animated as they discuss the latest Bramble Falls news. I’m sure by now they’ve heard about the upcoming festival. I wave to them and scurry into the diner before they have a chance to interrogate me.

Inside, I’m hit with a gust of warm air and the smell of greasy food. I make my way past the empty booths, their torn red vinyl seats in desperate need of some love, and I join my friends, who have already pulled several tables together and are laughing loudly near the far windows.

“Sloane!” Jake exclaims as I drape my coat and my bag over the back of the empty chair next to Asher. “We’ve heard the news, and we’re ready.”

“Yeah?” I sit and tuck my hands under my thighs, trying to warm my fingers. “Good, because we have a lot to do.”

“Oh, I meant we’re ready to eat fries and watch you and Ellis figure it all out.”

I frown at him, and Ellis laughs as she pulls out a notebook, pen, and various colors of sticky notes.

Jake is a senior, a year ahead of me, and is unfairly hot, with clear blue eyes and dark blond hair that’s long and styled on top and fades on the sides. Despite his obnoxious arrogance, he’s a total sweetheart. He flashes his perfect white teeth at me. “I’m joking! We all know you couldn’t run this show without me.”

On the other side of Asher, Chloe, another senior, tosses her long blond hair over her shoulder and mutters, “Now, that sounds like the joke.”

“Whatever. I offer unparalleled moral support,” Jake insists, leaning back in his chair, his blue Bramble Falls High long-sleeve tee stretching over his muscular torso.

Ellis pats him on the head like a dog. “Yes, Jakey. You do.”

My eyes bounce around the seven chairs before landing on an empty seat. “Where’s Hannah?”