And my soul screamed, “Murder her.”
I don’t get into snowball fights. It just feels dangerously dumb and like it’s going to end with snow down someone’s shirt. And in the past, that person has always been me.
My friend does not agree.
Being the good student I am, I was working on homework in the library. Earbuds in, typing away on my latest piece of genius. The last and greatest American novel. Not a care in the world.
It never even crossed my mind that Laura might attack me. Certainly not when we were inside, in a library no less. She would never do something that careless. So when she got up and went outside, I thought nothing of it.
That was my first mistake.
Never take your eyes off of that one friend who’s confident enough to do something stupid in the presence of the general public, and reckless enough to not care about the repercussions.
I don’t know how long she stood over me before I noticed her. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. She held my life in her hands like a tiny bird, at any moment able to clench her first and destroy me. And she knew it.
I don’t know what made me look up, but I did. The face staring back at me was not my best friend. This girl had evil in her eyes. Red cheeks glowed like the fires of hell. A gargoylish grin split her face. I looked for my friend, and found a demon instead.
Never before have I felt such fear.
The grin widened.
Her hands. Her hands. She’s hiding them behind her back. Understanding didn’t strike me. It didn’t hit me like a sucker punch, leaving me gasping in fear and shock. The words came simply. They were matter-of-fact. Resigned even.
Because I knew there was nothing, nothing, nothing I could do.
And Laura knew it, too.
It hit me in the sternum. Snow and ice exploded on impact. I sat stunned, for a minute.
Laura cackled.
Then the fire within me, the one I constantly try to quench so I don’t cuss out friends and family members during dominoes, the one that turns happy, light-hearted games of tag into raging forest fires, the one that urges me to turn every activity into a competition that I must win…
It erupted.
I scrambled for the bits of snow that had already begun melting into the carpet. Laura was still guffawing. The laughter evaporated on her tongue when she saw me. I growled.
I hurled the little chunks of what was left at her. She turned to deflect it, and they smashed into her back.
By the time she recovered, the library door banged shut behind me.
This was war.
Laura followed me outside, and I was waiting for her. From my crouched position I bombarded her with ice and snow, whatever my stiff, frozen hands could grab and form.
She returned with her own volley, pounding me in the face. So we’re playing dirty, huh?
I slid across the snowy sidewalk and collided with her. We screamed in rage and grappled for control.
I’m sure I won. She has noodly arms.
I crammed a handful of snow into her face. She bit my finger. I slipped. I was going down. I took her with me. We collapsed onto the cement, the air forced from our lungs.
By the time we caught our breath, stood up, and brushed ourselves off, it was over. We looked at the skid marks and footprints that scarred the snowy wonderland. Laura let out her loud, happy belly laugh. I joined in.
“Sorry for shoving snow in your face.” We climbed the steps back up to the library.
“It’s okay.” She held the door for me and we wiped our feet on the front rug. “It was awesome.”
When I sat back down, I had no idea what I was writing. Train of thought had left the station. It’d careened off the rails and crashed. Then the station had blown up. Oh well. There goes fame and fortune.
At least I have Laura.
…..I guess.
