I woke up to something cold and wet sliding down my scalp onto my pillow. I turned my head towards my roommate with a humph, only to see her grinning sideways at me. 

​

“What did you do? Why?” I said as I lazily pulled my arm out of my comforter to touch my head. I had just felt the ice when Aimee threw another clump at my now unprotected face. Sitting up, I realized the room was freezing, and smelled crisp. She stood next to the open dorm window, a wild look in her eyes and the excitement of snow already well set in.

​

“It snowed!” She hopped up and down. Her boots squeaked against the linoleum floor. 

​

“Really? I had no idea,” I said as I got up, pulling sweatpants over pajama shorts and shaking what was left of the melting snow out of my hair. Before I had even grabbed my coat, Aimee climbed onto the window sill, cackling. As soon as we made eye contact, she smiled even wider and tipped over sideways out the window. I ran over, but she was chuckling to herself, sitting on her butt five feet below me blanketed in powder. The snow falling from the sky gave her an air of ethereality, a beaming angel surrounded by frozen white. Oversized flakes caught in her black hair as a feeling of gratitude washed over me. Aimee was as free-caring as the flakes that flew around her.

​

“Hey, are you gonna help me or are you gonna stare?” I heard from below me. Aimee was struggling to her feet, but the powder sank below her, leaving her tipping back and forth. I threw my hands out to her, and her fingers felt like ice when they wrapped around mine. She caught hold of my shoulders so I could drag her back in.

 

“Okay, I’m ready. Are you?” She said. 

 

“Of course. I’ve got you.”

 

*

 

December in Binghamton was dark and frigid. Although I was trying not to drift off, the golden squares from streetlights methodically danced through the bus like a lullaby. It was late, and I was exhausted from work. 

 

My ringtone exploded into my headphones. Aimee popped up on my screen and I sighed, thinking it’s another drunk call. She warned me that she’d be going to a band party tonight, that she’d be out till late. I was on my way home to use the alone time pigging out on snacks from the school store. 

 

“Hey, having fun?” I was about to start some bad joke when I heard her shaky breath over the phone. 

 

“I need your help. Please? Can you please come get me?”

 

My heart dropped to the crusty floor of the bus. Her words were broken and mumbled. 

 

“I’m already on my way. Send me your location.” 

 

My ankles knocked together the entire eight minutes it took for the bus to reach her stop. My legs were shaking, but I squeezed them together, desperate to look put together. As soon as I stepped outside, the shaking grew more intense from the biting night air. The only way to stay warm enough to keep going was to run. 

 

“Shelby?” I heard her call when I got to a yard covered in red cups and napkins. There was a figure crouched on the curb, hoodie over her head and pulled tight. I waved, and the hooded bun turned towards me. Then Aimee’s arms were around me. I was carrying her weight, her face in my chest as she cried. I turned towards the party, where college students were yelling in the backyard and the bass was just loud enough to send vibrations through our feet. Someone looked over the short fence, took a step toward us before being pulled back by a girl. 

 

That night, we walked back three blocks over soiled snow, and my toes were numb well before the bus picked us up. I held onto Aimee’s fingertips. My hand stayed warm the entire walk. 

​

That night we would pig out on snacks from the school store, and not talk about the man that forced her to get high, and we would watch Finding Dory while she ignored the way her hair still smelled like smoke from when he kissed her, and I would sleep in her bed and forget how she shivered long after we came in from the snow.