Tastes Like Winter Read Online Free Page A

investigate.
    ***
    As I’m clearing the last crumb from my plate, my phone buzzes with a
text from Genna. It’s rare for her to have a day off from practice, so I am
surprised to see her message.
    “Meet me at Juniper’s in thirty? There is a double fudge sundae with
my name on it.”
    I glance at the microwave clock and see it’s ten thirty in the
morning. It’s too early for ice cream, but considering I already stuffed my
face with pie this morning, who am I too judge? This wouldn’t be the first time
we made the trek to our favorite local diner for chocolaty, creamy goodness at
such an hour.
    I sense there is a reason behind her need for such fat-laden calories,
so I text back that I will see her then.
    Without bothering to shower, I change into jeans and a tank top and
slip on a pair of canvas boat shoes. I add my own note to the counter, placing
it next to Mom’s and Dad’s, to alert them that I too am out and will be home
later, who knows when, and to call my cell if they need me.
    Grabbing my keys and jumping into my car, I drive the short distance
to Juniper’s. I expect to be early, but I can already see Genna shutting her
car door and heading inside. She stops when she spots me and allows me time to
catch up.
    “Why the desperate need for ice cream?” I cut to the chase. Genna and
I are too close, been together too long and through too much, to beat around
the bush.
    She shoots me a look, her narrowed eyes signaling now is not the time.
“Ice cream first.”
    I nod and follow her inside. The diner is full as it usually is on
weekend mornings, but we are able to get a booth right away. The waiter frowns
at Genna when she orders her sundae, but he says nothing. The last thing I want
after my morning, spent vegging on the couch eating pie,
is more sweets, but in a move of solidarity, I order my own bowl, keeping it
simple with a scoop of vanilla. I wait for our order to arrive, and Genna to
down a few bites before I push her again.
    “Okay, out with it, Gen. What’s up?”
    She pushes out a pained exhale in response before launching into a
tirade. “I get that I’m co-captain and that the position comes with certain
responsibilities, but Coach expects me to play mother hen and counselor and to
deal with every little problem these girls have, and it is exhausting.”
    She then launches into a mile-a-minute rant on the team conflicts she
is going through—including, from what I gather, one teammate hooking up
with another teammate’s boyfriend and the resulting catfight that took place in
the locker room. She rants and raves and sighs and acts as though she is going
to pull her hair out then rants some more all between bites of sundae. And like
a good friend, I sit and listen and nibble at my own dish, adding the
appropriate head nods and verbal affirmations to signal that I understand her
pain. How dare Coach put her in such a situation!
    Finally, she sets down her spoon, pushes her bowl away from herself,
and leans back, looking drained. “Thanks. I had to get that off my chest before
I kicked some serious girl ass and put them all in their place.”
    I laugh at her and playfully hold up my arms in a defensive pose. “I’m
innocent! I’m innocent! Don’t kick my ass, too!”
    She throws her little fists up, pretending to fight. “No one is safe!
I will wreak havoc on all!”
    We laugh heartily, and she reaches for another bite of her now-melted
ice cream before thinking better of it and dropping the spoon.
    “Being captain will help my chances of getting a scholarship this year,
and I can’t mess it up, but jeez, it’s way more responsibility than I
originally thought.”
    “I can’t imagine.” And I couldn’t. Being in charge of that much
hormonal girl drama was terrifying to think about, and I couldn’t fathom what
she had to go through. I wouldn’t have made it past day one, but Genna was a
natural. Even though she complained from time to time, there was a reason her
coach picked