NEW SCHOOL YEAR RESOLUTIONS OF MISS DARCY BENNET

1. Help Jean with her resolution to have a serious boyfriend senior year.

2. Maintain at least a 3.5 GPA, weighted.

3. Be nicer to the half-monsters. They can't help being hyperactive six-year-olds.

4. Think of a better, if less honest, answer to “Why do you want to attend Catskill College?” than “Because it's five minutes from my curling club.”

5. Win club bonspiel.

6. Win Regionals.

7. Win Nationals.

8. Become Junior Curling World Champion!

9. Win Saturday Juniors League, just for good measure.

Chapter One

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a teenage girl must be in need of peer approval, but the only peer whose approval had ever meant a thing to me was my best friend Jean. That's why I felt so betrayed when I learned my approval meant nothing to her.

College recruitment booklets were strewn across her bed, testaments of her disloyalty. I stared at them in disbelief. “California? Seriously?”

Jean wouldn't look at me as she tugged on the ash-blond ponytail draped over her shoulder. “UC San Diego has one of the strongest Oceanography programs in the world.”

“Oceanography? Since when did you care about oceanography?” I picked up one of the brochures. A racially diverse group of students seemed to be having class on a beach. Like that was a good idea. Even if they managed to pay attention to the lecture, their notes would be covered in sand. “When's the last time you even saw the ocean?”

“That doesn't mean I can't be interested in it,” she muttered.

I flung the ad down on top of the others and stomped over to the window. The sun slid slowly behind the Catskills, its beams tracing highlights on the fiery spread of autumn leaves. Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. And after the snow came it would be even more beautiful. Why would she want to leave? “There's no ice in California.”

The springs on her bed creaked as she sat down. “Sure there is.”

“Not in San Diego.”

“Not outside,” she said, her voice soft. “They have indoor ice, same as anywhere.”

My hands bunched into fists, fingernails digging into my palms. I leaned my forehead against the window, looking for comfort in its coolness. “There's no curling.”

She sighed, loud enough that I knew she wanted me to hear it. “Yes, there is.”

I shook my head, my skin rubbing against the glass. “No. The only dedicated club on the West Coast is in Seattle.”

“Ugh, Darcy! This is why I waited so long to tell you.” There was a thump as she flopped back on on the bed. “Arena ice is still ice. You can still curl on it. And it's not forever. It's just college.”

Right. Only four years. Four years that would take us from our soon-to-be eighteen to twenty-two, which was a year too old for Juniors. My chest shook as I struggled to stay calm. I straightened up, but kept my back to Jean. “What happened to staying here? Going to Catskill with me? You're just going to abandon the team?”

“You know it's not like that.”

Did I? I turned around and stared at her. “No, I don't know that. What I know is you're destroying the team so you can move to the opposite end of the country. And, yeah, so maybe you'll only be gone four years, but then what? You're not coming back here with a degree in oceanography. You're not going to lead us in the adult league. We're never going to the Olympics together.”

“Darce...” Tears reflected in her eyes as she shook her head. “The Olympics? That was our dream when we were ten. It's not something to build a life around.”

I blinked back tears of my own. There were so many things I wanted to say, to scream, to sob... But I didn't even know where to start. She was breaking my heart and acting like it was nothing.

“Is this really about curling?” Jean asked as she sat up. Her ponytail was a complete mess now. “You don't need me to be a great curler. You'll make an excellent skip next year.”

As though telling me I could take over team leadership would make me feel any better. We'd been curling together since we were eight. We'd been friends even longer. Best friends. We were supposed to be best friends forever, not best friends until college. “It won't be the same.”

“No.” She got up and walked to me. “But that doesn't mean it won't be awesome.”

Actually, as far as I could tell, it did.