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Right as I opened my eyes, I could see it. The stark grey sky met my gaze through the closed blinds, snuffing out the bright yellow summer sunrise. It’s snowing. Pretty heavily, too. I’ve seen snow in the summer before, but never like this. As much as I dreaded getting a proper look, I got out of bed and peek through the shutters. The whole block is coated in a thin, white blanket. Some snowfall down the road seemed to be melting before it even hit the ground, the warm wind from downtown blowing steadily through the streets. I hope it’ll make its way over here, too. I check my phone to see if anyone else was getting the snow too, quickly realizing that my notifications were bone dry. It doesn’t really bother me. It’s already almost noon, but I get back into bed. I already know nobody else in the house is up either, but maybe I should take advantage of that. I think about it for a little, getting more comfortable and making the decision harder as I prolong it.
After a few minutes, I finally get back up. Walking past the hairbrush on my nightstand, I grab my earbuds. Putting them in, I make my way downstairs while deciding on a playlist. Stopping briefly at the bathroom, I look at the shower and my toothbrush. I continue walking to the stairs. I don’t feel good about it, but I also don’t feel bad enough to turn around. Just the thought of the effort drains me enough to consider going back to bed. Finally at the kitchen, I start the kettle and place bread into the toaster. After a meal of peanut butter toast and an earl grey tea, I reward myself with a nice doomscroll session. Checking out the local tab, I see the usual. Lots of people posting Christmas related things with the location set to a festively named strip club in town, people I remember going to school with trying their hands and influencing, folks my parents age posting about their kids. But one post catches my eye. It’s someone I’ve never seen around before, shocking as they seem to be my age and this is by no means a large town. “Is the weather always like this here?”, reads the caption. It’s the snow, she must live close by. I check the video for any landmarks I might know, stopping pretty quick because I feel like a creep. Then, in a possibly even creepier move, I text my friend, asking if he has any new neighbors.
“thomas”
“wake up”
“THOMAS”
“oh my god june what do you want”
“ok dont be an ass maybe i just want to talk to my friend”
“but i do have a question”
“shoot”
“did u get any neighbors or people moving in near u”
“uhhhhhhhh maybe? i think i heard something”
“ill ask my gf hold on”
“ohhhhhh look at mee i have a girlfriend who i live with ooooh im so cool”
“rub it in why dont you”
“but thanks”
“yeah i guess we did”
“few houses down across the street some asian family finished moving in last night”
“kayla saw the truck drive away so she went over to ask”
“daughter going to college here or something”
Must be the girl from the video.
“okay thanks”
“see the snow?”
“you’re fucking with me.”
“nah”
“deadass”
“bruh. why you asking about neighbors anyway”
Shit. I don’t want him to think I’m a creep. What the hell do I answer with?
“uhhh no reason just wondering”
“...”
“yea whatever man”
He totally bought it. I step outside onto my porch for a moment, curious about the temperature. Actually not too bad. No cold winds and the sun coming back out makes the snow pretty enjoyable, oddly enough. I hate winter. The cold always hits me right in my bones. Playing in snow was fun as a kid, and I miss it. But whenever I try now, I’m back inside within about 10 minutes. I grab a sweater off the floor of my room, probably clean enough. Heading out the door, I text my mom, “if you wake up and im not there, i went to the store”. Heading up the road, I see people already out shovelling their driveways, loudly complaining. After around 5 minutes of walking, I see her. Thomas’ new neighbor, the girl from the video, trying to shovel her walk. I had already forgotten about her, too absorbed in my music and the calm of the lukewarm snowfall. I’m almost completely stopped in my tracks while looking at her, completely forgetting that staring is super weird. She’s beautiful. Her expensive looking thick leather coat. The snowflakes landing on her long black hair before they melt from her body heat, like fading stars on a clear night sky. Her rosy cheeks and nose. Everything about her looks perfect. Even the way she struggles to use the shovel is graceful. Should I help her? I have plenty of experience. What if I seem rude, though? Worse yet, passive aggressive? I’ll probably just fumble over my words anyways. I never was good with talking. While I go through all the possible ways this could backfire, I notice something. I’m already walking over. She turns around when I’m halfway across the road. I forgot how loud snow was.
“Hello?”, she calls. Her voice warms me as it carries to my ears, covering them like a beanie.
“H-Hey… I, uh, noticed you were struggling a bit with the shovel… Are you new around? I haven’t seen you.”
Her expression shifts from a slight confusion to complete neutrality. At least I didn’t upset her.
“Yeah, my family and I just moved in this week. Does it always snow this bad?”
“Not exactly,” I chuckle a bit, “the winter months can get pretty hectic but I’ve never seen snow like this in the summer.”
“Ah, I see. When are the winter months, exactly?”
“Usually starts in October, goes until around March or April.”
“Oh, wow… That’s like, half the year!”
She says the words with such a heavy theatricality, it’s amazing.
“Haha, yeah… Pretty cold up here… Would you, err, like a hand? I’ve been shovelling most of my life.”
Her eyes widen a bit, revealing her deep hazel irises.
“Yes, actually! That would be very appreciated.”
Her words come out a bit loudly, just enough that I can hear them echo through the streets and revel in her voice a bit longer. I reach out my hand and she passes me the shovel.
“I like to start on the right, because I’m right handed, so I can push it in that direction much easier.”
I plow through the thin layer of powder, making a snowbank on the side of her driveway. She stands and watches, her expression looks like she's taking mental notes.
“When I move to the next row, I only go down about half a shovel worth. That way, I’m also collecting anything that would have moved onto the part I just did.”
Right as I finish my sentence, I hit a seam in the pavement. The handle at the top of the shovel digs into my shoulder as I continue to put force into it, not noticing that I’m not moving. Suddenly, I can feel my feet give out. Next thing I know, I’m flat on my ass and she’s rushing over.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
Her concern warms me from the cold once again. My face goes flush, thank god I can blame the cold.
“Yeah, I’m fine… I got stuck on the concrete and didn’t realize… So, um, watch out for that. I guess.”
She reaches out to help me get back on my feet. Her fingers aren’t red in the slightest. I take her hand and a warmth jolts up my arm. It feels like a burn, but painless. Her hands are soft and smooth, she feels like the bags my grandmother microwaves before bed.
“B-but, err, that’s ab-about it… You just kinda, like, repeat that over and over. Without the, uh, falling…”
I clichédly rub the back of my neck in embarrassment, and she lets out a giggle at my words. Her laugh makes something in my chest tingle. Like butterflies, but softer, gentler.
“I can finish the rest,” I offer, “unless you prefer to…”
She smiles warmly at me and says,
“Really? That’s so kind of you.”
I start without another thought. Why am I acting like this? Doing anything I can to make this girl happy and I don’t even know her name. Oh my gosh, her name! I need to get it before I forget.
“I’m June, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Nera. It’s nice to meet you, June.”
“The pleasure’s mine, Nera.”
Her name melts in my mouth. Rolls off my tongue like it’s the only word I want to say ever again. She laughs again and my corny line. I regret it a little, but at least she thought it was funny.
“How long have you lived here, June?”
“Fifteen years now, I think? Basically my whole life. I-I’d, uh, be happy to show you around, if you’d like sometime that you aren’t busy, maybe…”
“That’d be nice. I’ll give you my number when you’re done, Miss Tour Guide.”
I hold back a cheer. I’m getting her number! The excitement is so hard to hold down, and I go silent for a moment.
“Yeah!” I blurt, unable to keep it contained, “That sounds good!”
She looks a little taken aback by the volume, but she just continues to watch as I go down the rest of her driveway.
Once I finish up, she comes over to me and we trade phones, adding ourselves as contacts. She takes a photo of herself right there to add to it, and I can’t help but feel pressured to do the same. I really don’t like photos. I can’t remember the last time I took one of myself. I opt against it, hoping she doesn’t think less of me for it. Luckily, Nera doesn’t seem to notice. We hand back our phones, and I hold my gaze on the contact photo for a touch too long, just enough for her to see and clear her throat,
“Thanks again for the help, June. I’ll be sure to text you if I have any questions.”
I shoot up from my phone and meet her eyes. They’re even more beautiful up close.
“Err… Yeah, yeah no problem. I’ll, uh, keep an eye out, in that case.”
She turns to go back inside, looking over her shoulder and giving me a wave,
“Bye, June! See you around!”
I wave back silently, the words trapped in my throat. Heading back to the house, I forget why I ever left to begin with.