Snow Angels

He followed her out of the building, staying far enough behind that he could watch her without feeling obligated to start a conversation. He’d been watching her for ages, since school had started months ago, but in the last several days she’d seemed... less, somehow. Less enthusiastic, less energized, less animated than she used to be. It was as though she’d lost part of herself in the last few days; he wanted to help her get it back, but he wasn’t sure how.

He watched her climb the stairs, push open the door, and step out into the gently falling snow. She walked several feet, beyond the shelter of the surrounding buildings, and then she stopped. He stopped too, hanging back to observe.

She turned her face to the sky, breathing deeply of the winter air. For several long moments, she didn’t move; then, she slipped off her backpack, turned her back to the snowbanks lining the sidewalk, spread her arms, and fell back into the snow. She did not stir after she landed, merely lay spread-eagled on the frozen ground.

He waited for several long moments before crossing over to her. There was an expression of relief on her face, as though she’d been holding her breath for hours and hours, and was finally able once again to draw breath. For all the relief, though, he did not read peace in her countenance.

Her eyes were closed, and though he knew she must have heard him approach through the crunchy snow, she didn’t acknowledge his presence. She merely lay in the snow, eyes stubbornly closed, seeming unaware of the snowflakes dusting her eyelashes and clinging to her lips.

“Um,” he said finally uncomfortable with the silence. “Are you okay?”

She opened one eye to study him, then closed it again. “Not really,” she answered.

He was quiet, unsure of how to respond. “Can I help?” It came out sounding trite, and he winced; he truly did wish to help.

She seemed not to notice his discomfort, and lay considering his offer for several moments. “Well,” she said finally, “snow angels alway look better in pairs.”

He hesitated, unsure whether she was humoring him, or if she really wanted someone to make a snow angel with her.

She opened her eyes, and smiled sadly. “I’m afraid that’s about the only thing you can help me with right now.”

After a moment’s consideration, he set his pack down next to hers, and lowered himself into the snow, careful to leave enough space for wings between them. The snow seeped almost instantly through his jeans, but he stayed where he was. Slowly, they swished their limbs through the powdery snow, creating the silhouette of two angels fallen from the sky.

She didn’t move for a long time after their angels were complete, and so he didn’t either. Finally, after his feet and fingers had long since gone numb, and the snow that had melted off of his face was freezing into his hair, he stood. He held out a hand to her, and pulled her out of the snow to stand beside him, careful not to damage the angels. She methodically brushed off her jeans, and then considered their angels for a time.

Eventually, a tiny smile curled the corners of her lips, a real smile. “Thank you,” she told him quietly.

And then she was gone.