“I have milk,” Grace said. She crawled out and brought back the milk we’d packed in the snow. Grace poured the milk in the tin cup, which we passed around, and then we all had seconds of the cake. Nothing had ever tasted that good to me before.

“Hey,” said Joel, “what has two humps and lives at the North Pole?”

“I give up,” Grace said.

“A lost camel.”

It wasn’t much of a joke, but for three kids high on chocolate cake it was like the atom bomb of jokes. Grace laughed so hard that milk shot out of her nose, which made us laugh even harder.

This launched a competition as we each tried to better the last joke. We were laughing so hard that we were crying and Grace kept saying, “I’m going to wet my pants.”

I don’t know how long we’d been out there; hours I think. Long enough to finish off the cake. That night the clubhouse was the best and happiest place on the entire planet.

Finally we ran out of jokes and our laughter faded. “We better go before Mom and Dad get home,” Joel said. Grace and I just looked at each other. “Well, I’m going,” he finally said. He got down on his knees and crawled out.

“Thanks for coming, Joel,” Grace called after him. “And for the nice gift.”

“I better go too,” I said. I knelt down at the door.

“Wait.” Grace put her hands on my cheeks. “Thank you, Eric.” Then she kissed me on the mouth. Not a short peck like one from my mom or Aunt Geniel, but a real kiss that lasted more than ten seconds.

It was the first time that I had ever been romantically kissed. It was even better than the chocolate cake. When we finished kissing we just looked at each other. I probably looked dizzy. She just looked happy. “This was the best birthday I’ve ever had,” she said.

“Me too,” I said. She laughed and it was soft and sweet like a wind chime.

“I’ll go now,” I said.

She smiled. I think she was pleased to have so disoriented me. “See you tomorrow.”

I got back down on all-fours. “Bye.”

“Good night.”

Joel was still waiting for me outside the door. When we’d taken a few steps he asked, “How much was that thing you got her?”

“Twenty-seven dollars.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah.” I put my hands in my pocket. “Did you see what she did?”

“What?”

“She kissed me.”

“On the mouth?”

“Yeah.”

“Whoa!”

“Yeah,” I said. “Whoa.”

He looked down as our boots left deep impressions in the snow. “Was it worth twenty-seven dollars?”

I smiled. “Sure was.”

CHAPTER Thirteen

A guy on the radio said there was a ninety percent chance
that we wouldn’t be here in the morning.

GRACE’S DIARY

MONDAY, OCT. 22