'tis the damn season

holly

The winter sun was bright and reflected blindingly off the snow as Peggy walked home from school. She partially unzipped her coat and loosened her scarf knowing she would have to do them back up before getting home or get scolded by her mother. She meant well, but –

"Hey, Marge!"

Peggy didn't bother to turn and see who it was. While some teachers and other adults insisted on calling her Margaret, only one person had the gall to call her Marge.

"Hello, Jack," she said neutrally when he caught up to her, which didn't take him long. When he had finally surpassed her in height at the beginning of high school, he had been tall in a gangly teenager sort of way. However, as Peggy had realized somewhere between eleventh and twelfth grade, he had really filled out. Now, he was tall in a manly adult sort of way. Which she could of course never tell him – his head would inflate so much that he might float away.

Which would, of course, be a tragedy. A terrible loss.

"So, are you going to the Winter Semiformal?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said. She looked over at him "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just wondering."

Peggy rolled her eyes but said nothing. It wasn't that she wanted to go to the dance with Jack. But if he wanted to ask her, why not just come out and say it? She wasn't going to let him vaguely suggest it and expect her to interpret his meaning.

They turned the corner, in sync, as they had nearly every day of high school. Peggy's home came first, then Jack's. Their parents, upon moving in next to each other, had initially decided on Jack and Michael, Peggy's older brother, being friends, but they had never hit it off. Jack and Peggy, on the other hand, were only a grade apart and told anyone who would hear it that they despised each other. This did not prevent them from being thick as thieves and being ever ready to jump to each other's defense.

Of course they had their arguments – many, in fact – like the few months when Jack insisted on calling Peggy a 'kid' due to their massive nine-month difference in age. Peggy didn't speak to him for a full two weeks, walking silently beside him to and from school every day, until Jack caved, apologizing and telling her that the guys in his class had been teasing him for being friends with her.

She had graciously accepted his apology and told him to screw what people thought of him.

It was a mantra not often far from her lips and while Jack would never admit it to anyone, he would hear her voice saying it in his head sometimes and found newfound confidence in it. Because Peggy was the most fearless person he knew, and she believed he could be fearless too. What more encouragement did one need?

Peggy started down her driveway. "See you."

"Yep, adios." Jack watched her for a moment, then walked over the snowy lawn to the next house over.

It was a week until the dance. Peggy and Jack walked side-by-side down the sidewalk.

"Have you narrowed down the places you're applying to yet?" Peggy asked.

Jack kicked at a chunk of ice, and it skittered ahead of them. "Yeah, I think so."

Peggy frowned. "I don't understand why you're not more excited about getting out of this town. I've had my list narrowed down since ninth grade."

"What programs?"

Her frown deepened for a moment then she tried to smile. "I know you're not the most observant person, Jack, but surely you're aware of my intended career path."