Impossible Things by Robin Stevenson

stuff. It’s embarrassing, but I wouldn’t change it. “You can always come here,” I said. “We’d be happy to have you over whenever you want. Dinner, sleepovers, whatever. Mom says our friends are always welcome, as long as they don’t expect anything fancy.”
    â€œThanks,” Victoria said. “You’re a good friend, Cassidy.”
    When I’m not accusing you of lying, I thought guiltily. “So are you,” I told her. “My best friend.”

Eighteen
    The next morning dawned clear and icy cold, with a hard pale sun and a cloudless blue sky. There were tons of kids already on the hill when we arrived. We all scrambled out of Mom’s station wagon with my wooden toboggan and Ben’s flying saucer, and a tiny blue-hatted girl came flying across the parking lot to meet us.
    â€œSydney’s here?” I asked, stating the obvious.
    Ben grinned at me. “Sure. You didn’t think I was going to hang out with you, did you?”
    I laughed. “As a matter of fact…”
    And the two of them were gone, racing up the hill side by side.
    Felicia appeared to be frozen to the spot, staring after them. “It’s awfully steep,” she said.
    I squinted up at the hill. The glare of the snow was blinding. To the left of the run, a line of kids trudged up the slope, toboggans tucked under their arms or being tugged along behind them. They looked like ants, steadily working their way up, up, up, single file. I shook my head and started walking. “This is the best hill,” I told her, leading the way. “We call it the Demolition Demon, because it’s so fast.”
    She didn’t move.
    â€œYou’re not scared, are you?” I asked her. “Because it’s just a joke, the demolition thing. It’s not really that steep.”
    â€œI’ve never tobogganed before,” she admitted. “We didn’t get much snow where we used to live.”
    Victoria grinned and took her arm. “First time for everything.”
    From the top, I had to admit it looked awfully cliff-like.
    â€œAre you sure you want to do this?” I asked Felicia. “Because if you’re nervous…”
    Victoria laughed. “Don’t tell me the fearless Cassidy is scared.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
    They both giggled.
    â€œI am so not scared,” I told them firmly. I sat down on my old-fashioned wooden sled. “Coming with me? There’s lots of room.”
    Victoria sat down at the back and gestured to Felicia to sit in the middle. Felicia hesitated, her dark eyes wide and anxious; then she squeezed in, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist.
    â€œReady?”
    â€œReady!”
    And we were off, flying down the hill so fast the wind whipped my hair back, made my eyes water and blew the tears off my face. The wind stole the breath right out of my lungs.
    â€œThat was awesome,” Victoria gasped when we finally slid to a stop. “Let’s do it again.”
    I twisted around. “Felicia? All right?”
    â€œFabulous.” She laughed. “Incredible.”
    We scrambled to our feet and, dragging the toboggan behind us, started back up the hill.
    The runs got faster as the morning went on. The weight of hundreds of kids careening down had packed the snow and made it smooth and icy.
    â€œOne more time,” Felicia panted as we trudged up the hill, pulling the toboggan behind us. “Then I need a break. This is worse than going to the gym.”
    I laughed. “But you’re doing it with us instead of your mom. Doesn’t that count for something?”
    â€œMy turn to go in front,” Victoria announced, plunking herself down. Felicia and I sat down behind her and we were off, laughing. Next thing I knew the sled was twisting sideways and I was flying through the air. Oof . I hit the ground, rolled a few times and landed face down at the bottom of the hill.