Jumping Off Swings by Jo Knowles Read Free Book Online

reaches for a tiny red pot from the rack above us. She melts the butter on the stove while Caleb cuts thick slices of the cinnamon raisin bread and puts them on plates for all of us. When the butter melts, Liz pours it over the bread, then sprinkles cinnamon sugar over the top. The sugar turns dark brown as it sinks into the butter.
    “Dig in,” she says, sliding plates at us.
    The warm butter and cinnamon melt the bread in my mouth. I don’t want to swallow, it tastes so good. I only once, very briefly, think about looking like a pig in front of Caleb.
    Ellie keeps smiling at Caleb’s mom while we eat. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look happy in months. Her cheeks are pink, and wisps from her ponytail settle across her face in this pretty way that — I can’t help it — makes me feel kind of jealous.
    When we’re full, we go back to the living room. Liz sits cross-legged on their deep purple couch, right under the cherub painting. She pats the space next to her, and Ellie takes it. I sit in the only other chair available, so Caleb takes the floor.
    “It’s so nice to have company,” Liz says. “Caleb doesn’t bring friends home very often.”
    Poor Caleb looks like he wants to hide under the coffee table.
    Liz asks us about a hundred questions. We tell her how Ellie and I have been best friends since the second grade, and how we all have homeroom together. How we can’t stand our history teacher because he makes us read
Time
magazine every week and gives us a quiz on it. Liz scoffs and tells us we should be reading
The Nation.
Caleb asks her not to start.
    Liz feels like the aunt I always wish I had. We barely know her, but I feel like I could tell her anything. She’s the kind of person who looks at you when you’re talking and asks you questions as if she really cares.
    By the time there’s a lull in the conversation, it’s time to go. Liz and Caleb are walking us to the door when Liz suddenly shrieks happily. “I almost forgot! Our first snow! And we have company. Perfect!”
    She reaches for her coat and elbows Caleb to do the same. Ellie and I are already in ours.
    “Not now. Please.” Caleb turns red. I’ve never seen anyone blush as much as he does. Even his earlobes turn a deep pink.
    “Oh, come on. It’s tradition! We can’t ignore the first snow — it’s bad luck!”
    “Later,”
he whispers. But we’re all standing way too close for secrets.
    “Out!” she yells, herding us through the door.
    Outside, there’s a fresh white blanket of snow. We climb down the porch steps carefully. Liz scans the yard and points to a corner. “You there,” she says to Caleb. “Ellie, you go over by the sycamore. Corinne, you go over by the rosebush.”
    It’s a good thing she points to it, because all I can make out is this stubby-looking thing covered with snow sticking out of the ground.
    She’s directed us into a big triangle. She walks into the center of it, slowly sinks down onto her butt, leans back, and makes an angel, flapping her long arms and legs in the snow. Ellie and I stare in amazement while Caleb looks at us kind of apologetically.
    “Down! All of you!” she orders. We obey. The snow sneaks into the neck of my jacket, but instead of being annoyed by it — which, believe me, under normal circumstances I would be — I’m thrilled. It’s like an ice cube down your back on a hot day.
    Then I hear laughing. Ellie is actually laughing!
    I flap my arms harder, as if I’m about to take off into the night. Huge, delicate snowflakes fall onto my cheeks. I stick out my tongue and let them melt into me.
    When we sit up, we’re covered with white and we laugh some more.
    “Happy now?” Caleb asks.
    “Yes,” Liz says. “Now we’ll all make it through the winter.”
    We stand up and inspect our angels. The heads point in different directions, forming a sort of giant snowflake.
    “Drive carefully, girls.” Liz turns and walks back into the house.
    Caleb says good night, too.