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IT'S FIVE DEGREES below freezing outside. The storm has left all of town without electricity and heat. There are trees uprooted in backyards and trash cans strewn across highways and we have not had school in two days.
From where Izzie and I stand in the middle of her bedroom, we can hear the windows rattling throughout the house, the roof groaning under the weight of constant, ceaseless snowfall. There are two lit candles on her desk. It is the only light we have.
But I am not thinking about the storm.
"I wanted to do this at the right time," Izzie whispers. She hooks her index fingers through my belt loops and pulls me in, all the way in, so that I'm pressed up against her.
I pull her shirt off. Trace my fingers up the outside of her arm, then down the inside. Where the skin is smooth. I feel her shiver.
"Case," she says, and takes my hand in her. "I have never felt this way about anyone before. You know that, right?"
I don't know what to say.
So I kiss her.
"Do you want this?" she breathes. And then: "Do you want me?"
