Every afternoon Sammy walks Donna home from high school. For the last few days, they’ve been holding hands. True, they both wear thick woolen mittens. Winter is so cold this year. But holding hands with Donna, even with the thick mittens, makes Sammy feel all warm and tingly.

Today not only is it cold, the wind is howling, and snow is falling. After Donna and Sammy drop their backpacks in Donna’s hallway, they hurry outside to the deserted orchard to make a snowman. But the snow is too dry.

“Can’t even make one decent snowball,” Sammy yells into the wind.

“What?” Donna shouts.

“I said the snow’s not good packing,” Sammy yells.

“What?”

Sammy scoops up a big handful of snow and flings it at Donna. The wind blows the snow right back in Sammy’s face. Donna laughs. Sammy chases her, and they tumble into a snowdrift. They roll together. Their faces are inches apart.

“You know what?” Donna says.

Sammy hopes Donna is going to say she wants him to kiss her.

“You’re all covered with snow,” she says. “Just like a snowman.”

“You, too!” Sammy says.

“Uh-uh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just like a snowwoman,” Donna says.

Then she kisses him. Their first kiss.

§

Sammy wouldn’t mind staying in the snowdrift, kissing Donna forever, but eventually they go in. They sit in Donna’s kitchen and Donna makes hot chocolate.

“Don’t burn your tongue,” Donna says.

“Too late,” Sammy says.

“Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

Sammy nods.

Donna kisses it and makes it better. “Mmm, chocolate tongue,” she says. She kisses Sammy again. “You know what they say about chocolate?”

“What?”

“That it’s a substitute for sex.”

Sammy is quiet for a while. Then he says, “Do you think we’ll ever have sex?”

Donna gets off Sammy’s lap. “I’ll make you another hot chocolate.”

§

On Valentine’s Day Sammy gives Donna a present. “It’s so light,” Donna says, shaking the package. “Lighter than air.”

“Open it,” Sammy says.

Donna opens it. It’s a heart-shaped kite.

“It’s made of special space-age plastic,” Sammy says. Sammy unfurls the kite, holding it so Donna can read the lettering. Sammy Loves Donna.

“I love it,” Donna says. “I love you.” She hugs him. “I wish we could fly it right now.” She looks at the kitchen window. Frost. “Oh, Sammy, do you think winter will ever end?” Before Sammy can answer, Donna is hugging him again. The kite is trapped between them. “You’d better...” Sammy says. “Otherwise...”

“Otherwise what?” Donna says, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Otherwise it might break?”

“No, but...” Sammy says. “Seriously.”

“Seriously what?” Donna moves herself against him. The kite squeaks.

“Otherwise...” Sammy tries again. “Something’s going to happen.”

“Let it happen,” Donna says. She kisses him and presses against him. It happens. Together they sink to the kitchen floor.

§