#20 Snow

by Alison DeLuca

I felt Snow’s breath on my neck after class. “Prince is mine,” she breathed. “Watch your ass.” I turned to say something, but she was already in motion, followed by her fangirls. Or boys—it was hard to tell.

Apples. I had to research apples for a science project. Besides, the library would be a safe place. AC splintered on my cheeks as I sat at a table and opened a book.

Apple trees take five years to produce their first fruit.

Another breath on my neck, but it was warm and male. “Hey,” Prince said. I concentrated on the page in front of me as he sat in the chair across from me.

The science of apple-growing is called pomology.

His foot nudged mine. I closed my notebook. Prince looked up and started to say something. I ignored him.

There was a bathroom in the far corner of the library. The air was even colder in there. I entered the last stall, opened my purse, and took it out. The mirror.

Apples belong to the rose family.

The baggie was small and half-filled with a white powder. I cut out two lines, rolled up a twenty, and snorted.

My own face looked back at me, dusted with snow. “Get rid of her,” the girl in the mirror whispered.

The rush hit me, and I dropped the mirror on the floor. Dark blood streaked down my skin when the silver glass shattered. Red on white. Snow.