The snow didn’t look like the movies. It wasn't a magical blanket; it was wet, grey, and seemed to soak right through Josh’s coat.
He sat on a park bench, checking his phone for the tenth time.
[7:30 PM] Josh: I’m at the fountain. Are you close?
[8:15 PM] Josh: The restaurant is going to give away our table soon. Let me know.
[9:00 PM] Read.
No reply. Just the "Read" receipt staring back at him, colder than the December air. He had been stood up on Christmas Eve. It was a cliché, a pathetic one, and Josh felt the weight of it in his chest. He stood up, his joints stiff, and began the walk home, cursing the festive lights that lined the streets.
"You look like a drowned cat, Josh."
He stopped. Standing under the glow of a streetlamp was Karen. She was wrapped in a thick scarf, holding a bakery box tied with a red ribbon. They had been neighbors since they were five, but lately, they had drifted into that awkward space of 'knowing each other but not really talking.'
"Great. Thanks, Karen. Exactly what I needed tonight," Josh muttered, pulling his collar up.
Karen tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she took in his fancy button-down shirt and the wilted flower pinned to his lapel. The snarky comment she probably had ready died on her lips.
"She didn't show, did she?"
Josh didn't answer. He didn't have to.
"Come on," Karen said, reaching out and grabbing his sleeve. "My mom bought a giant strawberry shortcake, and she’s currently complaining that there’s no one to help her eat it. It’s warm inside, and I promise not to make fun of your tie for at least twenty minutes."
That night, sitting in Karen’s warm kitchen, the smell of sugar and tea finally chased the chill from his bones. Karen spent the night "accidentally" smearing frosting on his nose just to see him get annoyed, and for the first time in hours, Josh forgot he was supposed to be heartbroken.
Two Years Later: The Snark Era
The bell for the end of the day rang, signaling the start of their junior year’s winter term.
"If you stare at that math problem any longer, your brain is going to leak out of your ears," Karen remarked, dropping a heavy bag of gym clothes onto Josh’s desk.
Josh didn't even look up. "And if you keep talking, I’m going to forget the formula I’ve been trying to memorize for thirty minutes. Don't you have a locker to go terrorize?"
"Ha-ha. You're so funny, Josh. Really," Karen rolled her eyes, but she didn't leave. She leaned against his desk, playing with the strap of her bag. "Anyway... are you busy after school?"
Josh finally looked up, squinting at her. "Why? Is your mom making cake again?"
"No," Karen said, her voice dropping slightly. She looked away, a faint, uncharacteristic pink dusting her cheeks. "Meet me at the flower garden behind the south building. Alone. Okay?"
She hurried out before he could answer. Josh sat frozen for a moment. The flower garden? After school? That was the legendary spot for confessions. His heart gave a strange, traitorous thump against his ribs.
No way, he thought. This is Karen. We spend our time seeing who can insult the other’s fashion sense faster. She wouldn’t... would she?
The Garden
The air at the flower garden was crisp, smelling of damp earth and late-blooming pansies. Josh walked slowly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He felt an unusual flutter of nerves. If she did confess... what would he even say?
He rounded the corner of the greenhouse and saw her. Karen was standing there, her back to him.
"Karen?" he called out, his voice slightly higher than usual.
She spun around, looking startled. "Oh! Josh! You actually came."
He stepped closer, noticing she wasn't alone. Another girl was standing behind her, clutching a notebook to her chest. It was Erika, Karen’s best friend.
"I... yeah. You said to come alone," Josh said, the "confession" speech he had been practicing in his head suddenly feeling very stupid.
"Right! About that," Karen said, her usual bossy tone returning as she shoved Erika forward. "Erika has a massive crush on that guy in Class 3-B. The one who looks like a k-pop idol but has the personality of a brick. She wants to confess, but she’s too chicken. Since you’re a guy, we figured you could give us some advice."
Josh felt like someone had just popped a balloon in his chest. The relief was there, but strangely, so was a tiny, sharp sting of disappointment.
"Advice?" Josh repeated flatly.
"Yeah," Erika whispered, blushing. "How should I do it?"
Josh sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. Keep it simple. Write a letter. Guys like things they can read twice without feeling awkward."
"A letter! See, I told you!" Karen clapped Erika on the back. "Okay, Erika, go start your draft. I’ll walk home with the 'expert' here."
The Aftermath
The sun was setting as Josh and Karen walked toward the train station. The silence between them was usually comfortable, but today, it felt heavy.
"You're quiet," Karen said, glancing at him. "Thinking about how brilliant your 'letter' idea was?"
"Actually," Josh said, his voice low. "I was thinking about how much of an idiot I am."
Karen stopped walking. "What do you mean?"
Josh turned to face her, a reckless smirk playing on his lips. "When you told me to meet you at the garden... alone... I actually thought for a second that you were going to confess to me."
Karen’s eyes went wide. For a long, agonizing second, she didn't move. Then, her face turned a shade of red that put the sunset to shame.
"I—you—wha—?!" she stuttered, her hands flying to her hot cheeks. "Why would I—?! You big idiot! I have a part-time job to get to!"
She spun on her heel and bolted toward the restaurant where she worked, her ponytail whipping behind her. Josh stood there, watching her run, his own face starting to burn.
Well, he thought, that went well.
He didn't know it yet, but that one comment had just set a fire in Karen’s heart that no amount of snark could put out.
ns216.73.216.141da2
and then Add to home screen.