Here’s the thing about St Mary’s … you would THINK, being in Minnesota and right on a lake where we get ridiculous dumps of lake-effect snow every day in the winter, we would hate snow. And we DO hate snow – when it’s January and we’re trekking to class in Ugg boots that smell like wet dog. But something miraculous happens every spring and summer: we lose our memories. And, when it snows for the first time that year, it’s like it’s snowing for the first time ever: we fall in love with it all over again.

So now, mere minutes after the first flakes, joyful, shouting, whooping parades of people were streaming towards us from Boys’ Quad, Girls’ Quad, all directions.

‘It’s magical!’ girls in woolly hats cried, jumping up, grasping each other’s mittened hands and twirling in the white downfall. ‘It’s a winter wonderland!’

Not only does every St Mary’s kid love snow, but we’ve got students from all over the country – California, Florida, the Deep South – which means some freshmen are literally seeing snow for the first time. A skinny, bright-eyed freshman in an earflap hat with the price sticker still on it wandered around in a daze of enchantment, lay down on the white-blanketed ground and began a slow-motion snow angel. In rapture, in wonder, his blue eyes fixed on the whirling shower of soft white flakes from the heavens above, he said in a deep Alabama drawl: ‘I’ll never, ever forget this moment.’

‘Hey!’ I barked, kicking snow into his open mouth. ‘We’re burning our bras here!’

Then a herd of sophomores thundered by me and I whirled around. ‘WATCH OUT FOR OUR FIRE!’

One turned to me and frowned. ‘What fire?’

‘What FIRE?’ I raged. ‘What FIRE?’

Then I turned and saw that our fire was dead. Katie was scrambling around in a mess of garbage caked in white.

‘Light it again, Katie!’ I called out, tossing her my cigarette lighter. ‘I’ll stand guard!’

But people were everywhere – running, jumping, twirling in the snow – and playing defense wasn’t easy. The Cupcakes had reappeared, and they were building a snowman – giddily rolling a giant snowball right up to us. ‘I’ve got a carrot in my room!’ one called out gaily.

Another chirped, ‘He can have my scarf!’

‘Hey!’ I shouted. ‘Back off! This is still a protest!’ Spotting a blackened bra cup left in the snow, I snatched it up to use as a slingshot, loading the cup with a snowball and releasing the strap with a snap and a loud yell: ‘Get out of here!’

It backfired immediately.

‘SNOWBALL FIGHT!’ a freshman cried, and a boisterous cheer rang out across the blizzarding quad.