Darkness Before Dawn by Sharon M. Draper

Jonathan skillfully skied over to where I stood. “Race you down!” he challenged, and I forgot all about Leon for the moment.
    â€œYou’re on!” I answered Jonathan as I took off. He barely had time to put on his goggles before I had left him in a swirl of snow. He laughed as he took off behind me, easily catching and passing me.
    â€œGood thing this was Little Bluff,” I gasped. “I would have left you like yesterday’s snowman.”
    â€œAre you ready for Deception Hill?” he asked. “I dare you to try.”
    I hesitated. Deception was steep and curved, and considered one of the most difficult hills on the slopes. “I tell you what,” I offered, “instead of racing, let’s just try skiing. I don’t think I’m ready for racing on Deception yet.”
    â€œGood idea,” he agreed. We skied together toward the chair lift that would take us to Deception, sliding easily in unison. I found on the ride that Jonathan was easy to talk to, and seemed to have been everywhere and done everything. He had skied in Switzerland, had taken hot-air balloon rides in Kenya, and had even been scuba diving in Australia. I chatted to him about my plans for medical school, my hopes of learning to fly a plane, and my worries about college.
    When the lift dropped us off at the top of the slope, the view was breathtaking. It looked like one of those paint-by-number pictures that I used to do when I was ten years old. Bright, clean snow covered the world—it looked like tons of spilled sugar. The pine trees decorated the scene with green. I breathed deeply of the cold, fresh air. It was the first time in several months that I had felt truly free.
    â€œThank you,” I said suddenly to Jonathan.
    â€œFor what?” he answered in surprise.
    â€œFor making me get out of bed. For talking to me like I’m a person, not a kid. For bringing me to this beautiful place.” I was silent for a moment. “I know we teased youthat night at the library, but there really is a big difference between you and the high school boys I’ve known since kindergarten. I’ve never had a conversation like we just had. It was refreshing—just like this wind.”
    Jonathan grinned with pleasure. “You’re so mature, Keisha. Maybe that’s why the boys your age don’t appeal to you.”
    â€œOne of them did,” I replied quietly. “But he’s gone.”
    â€œI’ve heard all about Andy,” Jonathan said carefully. “I’m really sorry, Keisha.”
    â€œCan we take the lift back down, Jonathan? I think I’d rather just talk a little more than try to prove to you I’m bad enough to try Deception. Besides, I’m cold.”
    â€œI was just going to suggest that. Let’s find the others and head back home. Monty is probably an icicle by now.”
    I laughed as we got back in the lift. Deception could wait.
    â€œKeisha,” Jonathan said to me when we got back to the bottom of the hill, “I really enjoyed today. Would you like to go to the movies some time? If you think it’s not appropriate, just let me know.”
    I thought for a moment. Then I surprised myself and said, “I think I’d like that.” He smiled with delight, but said nothing more as the others started to head toward us.
    We gathered the rest of the group and headed back to Jonathan’s wagon, tired and cold, but feeling really mellow. Monty fell asleep as soon as the car heater warmed up. The rest talked quietly about the hills and the spills of the day. Rhonda snuggled close to Tyrone. Joyelle nodded onTyrone’s other shoulder. B. J. glanced back at her and smiled. Leon looked quietly out of the window, watching the snow. Jonathan glanced at himself briefly in the rear view mirror, turned on a smooth jazz station, and we headed back to Cincinnati to the mellow sounds of the saxophone. For the first time in months,