Siria huddled on the fire escape with Laila from the sixth floor, her purple wool scarf pulled over her chin. They leaned against the brick wall, Laila’s WIPE YOUR FEET mat pulled over their heads like a roof. “What luck!” Laila said. “All this snow. No school until after the holidays.” Siria nodded. She didn’t mind school the way Douglas did. He liked to be moving around, building things. And learning was hard for Laila in her special class down the hall. But during the holidays, Siria missed art and math, and her friends: Patti, who played the guitar, and Jilli, who drew wonderful pictures. Too bad they all lived in different directions. Siria wouldn’t see them until after New Year’s. Sometimes they texted, but they usually forgot during the holidays. Siria looked up at the gray sky now. “My twelfth birthday on New Year’s Day!” Laila nodded slowly. She took time to think about what people said; she took even longer to answer. Siria grinned. Laila looked a little like an owl, with her glasses sliding down her nose and her mouth popped open to catch a snowflake.
