When people think of small towns, all they think of is “Gilmore Girls” and bikes and coffee shops and overly nice people. And I’m sure towns like that do exist somewhere out there. But I guess you could say that Goldsgreen, Pennsylvania isn’t exactly one of those small towns. It’s more like one of the towns you see in movies about road trips, when the characters are passing through that one town with only two gas stations, a sketchy motel, and a drug store. I’d like to live in a town with more than four stop lights, all of them being at the same intersection.  Goldsgreen isn’t that bad, I suppose. We do have a Chili’s, and to some people that’s all that matters. And we also have a coffee shop that actually has decent coffee. I’m really the only one who keeps it in business, though, along with old men and the group of single mothers who come to sing karaoke every Tuesday and Thursday.  My friends would rather drive forty minutes to get to a Starbucks, though, because all they want is a drink that has more whipped cream and vanilla flavoring than actual coffee.
The only good thing about Pennsylvania is the snow. It seems to put a pleasant veil over everything. And some people think that snow is the result of Hades frozen over. That snow is just snow, and it’s just another part of life in Pennsylvania. Those people are realists, though, or, maybe just boring. All they see when they look at the world is the world. Rain is just rain. Life is just living, and then it’s over. But I like to think that everything runs deeper than that. When I look at the sky, I see a vast landscape of stars and planets and moons that isn’t even comprehensible. When I look at people, I think of all the possibilities and dreams and stories that lie within each one of them. And when I close my eyes, I see all of the seasons floating by in images and memories and wonder. And I realize that I don’t know anything about the world, really, other than what I’ve learned from the eighteen years I’ve spent in Pennsylvania. And realizing that also made me realize that I haven’t come any closer to finding the person that I can ponder all of this with. Until my friends Charlotte and Eliza dragged me to Philadelphia to go see some C-List band perform in concert, and that’s where I realized that maybe finding that someone wouldn’t take so long after all. 
We were sitting in a restaurant about a mile from where the concert was. I was fiddling with one of my seven layers of coats when Charlotte suddenly gasped.
“Don’t look now, guys, but one of the most attractive people we might ever see is sitting less than three tables away.”
On instinct, both Eliza and I slowly turned around. The only table Charlotte could’ve been talking about was filled with three guys and two girls, all of them looking eighteen or nineteen. One of the guys was noticeably more attractive. He had dark brown hair and was wearing a black sweater, and maybe that’s just why I thought he was good-looking. Sweaters kill me. And so does brown hair, due to my infatuation with Harry Styles. I turned back around with a shrug. “He’s alright. I like his sweater.”
Charlotte looked exasperated. “Not that one, you idiot. The blonde.”
“Oh,” I took a sip of Diet Coke, “do you think they’d notice if I turn around again?”
Eliza spoke up as I nonchalantly tried to get a look at the blonde one. “The blonde is definitely the hottest. Lola, you just like the brunette because he’s wearing black.” And that was also a possibility.
“I don’t know what it is. Blondes just don’t do much for me.”
“It’s because you’re blonde.” Charlotte pointed out.
“Dude, so are you. And you like blondes.”
“Strawberry blonde, actually. I’m basically a red-head.” Charlotte shrugged, just as our waitress returned with our pizza.
“I call dibs on the blonde!” Eliza whispered as soon as she left.
“Oh, no way,” Charlotte slammed her hand down on the table. “I saw him first.”
“So? There are three of them. Pick another one.” Eliza grabbed the first slice of pizza, dumping parmesan cheese on top of it.
“You pick another one. I saw that guy first, and since it’s very probable that two of them might be dating the girls who are with them, I think I deserve him, because I’m already at a very small percentage of success.” She picked a pepperoni off her pizza and smiled. “Also, tens date tens.”
“Are you just gonna go up there and ask for his digits?” I laughed, “Because that sounds like something you would totally do, Char.”
“I could,” she started. “But maybe it’s just best to watch from a distance. Because what if he was actually the one dating that girl? What would happen then?”
I sighed. “And this is why we don’t have boyfriends.”

“So, who are we seeing anyway? Didn’t you say their name was Wasted Thorns or something?” We sat down in the back of the bar, ten minutes before the gig started. A small crowd was forming in front of the stage.
“Wasted Thrones, I think.” Charlotte checked a text on her iPhone. “Some shade against the British empire, maybe.”
“I like Wasted Thorns though.” Eliza nodded. “It makes them sound like they’re ready to avenge.”
“Whatever it is, I hope they’re good. Mark,” her twin brother, “said they’ve been touring with The Wombats or something.” Charlotte continued to type as she spoke.
“The Wombats? Dude, good for them.” I tried not to sound too excited, but in all reality I loved The Wombats. “I’m surprised he was able to get us in for free.”
Charlotte finally set her phone down. “And we also get to meet the band afterward. Mark said there’s a party at the bassist’s house.”
“How does Mark get in with all these bands? What exactly does your Dad do?” Eliza asked. Charlotte’s parents were split, and Mark lived with their Dad in Philly, while Charlotte lived with her Mom in Goldsgreen.
Charlotte was about to answer when the lights dimmed. We all stood up and moved to stand in the crowd of people who surrounded the stage. Everyone cheered when they came on stage.
“Hello, everyone. Thanks for coming to our show tonight. We’re Wasted Thorns; I hope you like us.”
We didn’t even care about what their name ended up being. All three of us had eyes the size of the moon, and as everyone jumped and danced around us we just stared at the stage. The people on stage were the same ones from the restaurant. The blonde one who Char and Eliza liked was the front man. One of the girls played bass, while the other one played keyboard. One guy played the guitar. And the boy in the black sweater was on drums.
Charlotte and Eliza started squealing as the band began to play the first song.
“The girls are in the band!” Charlotte grabbed my shoulders and started jumping around. “I actually have a chance!”
And even though I didn’t really care that much about meeting them, I smiled. They all probably had equally attractive, cool girlfriends. But that was okay. Because they weren’t ugly, and they had good music. And sometimes that was all that mattered.

“Audrey lives like ten minutes away. So, buckle up, kids.” Mark announced as we all got settled into his car.
“Kids?” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “You know we’re all the same age, right?”
“Right, but I’m pretty sure I’m about ten hundred percent more mature than all of you losers.” He assured us.
“So kind of you, Mark. Remind me why we don’t hang out more?” I smirked, checking the time on my watch. Ten-thirty-seven.
“Ha ha,” he said, making a face at me through the rear-view mirror.
“So, Mark,” Charlotte smiled, “how do you know the band?”
“They go to State, actually. I met them when I went to visit. They’re all first years.” He paused. “Why? You interested?”
Charlotte made an odd “Psshh” noise, while Eliza and I started laughing. “Of course not,” she managed to say.
“Well, Eric is taken. The one with the shaggy black hair? Yeah, he’s dating Audrey. But I think Aaron and James aren’t dating anyone.”
“Is Aaron the blonde one?” Eliza asked.
Mark smirked. “So, now I know which one you guys are after. Yeah, Aaron’s the blonde one. James is the drummer.”
James. Not a bad name. James Dean, James Marsden, James Franco. It suits him. 
We pulled up to the house, and I could already tell the party was going strong by the amount of precariously close parked cars sitting in the driveway. As soon as we went inside, I could faintly hear a Cage the Elephant song playing.
“Make yourselves at home,” Mark said, giving us a salute. Then he was off.   
“Does he actually expect us to make friends on our own?” Charlotte turned to Eliza and me. “I’ve only been to one party, and that didn’t really count because it was sophomore year and at my house, and the whole time I sat in my room playing internet checkers.”
“I actually remember that,” Eliza grinned. “Your mom made me go find you.”
“I’m glad I missed that one, to be honest.” I smiled. “I would’ve been embarrassed for you.”
“Shut up, Lola.” Charlotte glared at me. “Can we go get drinks or something?”
By eleven-thirty, Charlotte and I had found the balcony due to the mass amount of people who had followed us in to the party. Eliza was inside hanging out with some old friend she had run in to. And even though it was the end of November, and about thirty degrees, I decided that I would stay outside in the cold instead of getting involved in the chaos stirring inside.
I leaned against the rail, watching my breath in the freezing air. Charlotte had gone to the bathroom, and unless she suddenly got the runs, I’m pretty sure she found someone hotter or more interesting than me to talk to, because it had been about ten minutes. I could hear the music humming from inside, and I set my Coke down on the table, wrapping my sleeves around my hands. A lot of people don’t really like cold weather, but I do. It wasn’t snowing or anything, and, according to the forecast, wasn’t supposed to, but I still liked it better than the heat. In summer, even in Pennsylvania, you can’t wear long sleeves and jeans, and you can’t drink hot cocoa, and you can’t hope for random snow, and you can’t contemplate the earth surrounded by empty trees and dead leaves. I heard the door open and the familiar sounds of “Sweater Weather” by the Neighborhood echoed through my head. I turned my head, expecting Charlotte, but I got someone with brown hair and a black sweater instead. I turned back around, hoping he didn’t notice that I saw him. Before I knew it, he was standing beside me, leaning against the rail. I didn’t want to look at him, and I didn’t want to start the conversation, and I guess he wasn’t willing either, so we stood in silence for what seemed like hours.
“I’ve always liked cold weather.” He said slowly. He sounded like he was in an indie band. You know, those kinds of people who talk rather leisurely, yet wistfully, who leave you intrigued by even just saying something about the weather. “My family used to go down to Florida every Christmas, and that was torture in a nutshell. I was never able to see snow on Christmas day, and that was one of the things I always associated with Christmas. My parents decided to stay here for Christmas last year, though, and I woke up at like seven a.m. and watched the snow for hours before I went downstairs. Christmas in Florida just wasn’t fulfilling enough.”
I sighed. Those were probably the most surprising first words that I’ve heard from a stranger, especially one who played drums in some alternative garage band. “That’s true, I suppose. I mean, I’ve only been to Florida once, but I doubt it would be very much fun to drink hot chocolate in one hundred degree weather.”
I heard him smirk. “My sentiments exactly. What’s the point of even celebrating Christmas if you can’t build a snowman and reward yourself with hot chocolate after?”
“I suppose there isn’t one, huh?” I watched him tuck his hands into his sleeves. And that’s when it hit me: four sentences from this boy, and I’m already wondering if he plays for the other team. Figures.
“I’m James, by the way.” He turned to me, sticking out his hand. I could see his green eyes then, and for some reason it immediately made me question my previous thought. There was no way he was gay. 
“Ah, James. The drummer.” I shook his hand, trying not to make it obvious that his name had been rolling around my head for hours now. “I should probably get your autograph now, right?”
He turned back around to lean on the rail, “Very funny.” He paused, a grin on his face. “You should at least know that I only give autographs to the most dedicated fans.”
“Maybe one day, then.” I hesitated. I was contemplating whether to tell him my real name or not. I’m not really one to go out that often; they don’t have too many parties in Goldsgreen. But I’ve seen in movies where the girl will give the guy a fake name, so she knows that she can’t let the relationship go farther than that one night. But those nights in movies are also accompanied by alcohol and a one night stand, neither which I was about to let happen to me. And he seemed nice. And I’ve never had any guy friends, really, and even though I knew this probably wouldn’t turn in to anything, I could at least make a new friend. “I’m Lola.”
“Ah, Lola,” he said, mimicking me. “I’ve finally found the name of the random girl on the balcony.”
I laughed. “I should’ve told you it was Juliet. That would’ve made for a much better story.”
Abruptly, my phone vibrated in my back pocket, alerting me that I had a new message. I had a text from Charlotte.
                                                                     GET IT GIRL
I smiled, realizing that she had probably attempted to come back, but stopped when she saw me talking to James. Glancing up at James, I saw that he was looking at me.
“Oh, it’s just my friend Charlotte.” I told him, putting my phone back into my pocket.
“She at the party?” he asked.
“Somewhere around here.”
“Oh, is she looking for you?” He waved his arm to the door. “Because, it’s okay, you can go find her.”
I put my hands on the rail and leaned over it. “No, um, she’s alright. She was just telling me that she found me.” So maybe that was why I’d never had a boyfriend. I dragged my hand through my hair.
“Ah,” he said. I could hear him trying not to smile. “She could’ve joined us.”
I scratched my nose. “I’m pretty sure she was on the hunt for the front man of your band.”
He crossed his arms on the rail. “Aren’t they all?”
“I wouldn’t necessarily say all of them.” I looked up at the moon, because there was no way I was about to look at him after I had just said that. Suddenly I saw something white flutter in the sky.
I looked back at him, to find him staring off over the railing.
I felt something like rain hit me, but it was a flake. I looked at the sky again. “It’s snowing.”
He stood up straight and stuck out his hand, eyeing me. “Are you sure about that?” He stared up at the sky. There were more flutters now. “You know, I actually think you’re right.”
“Looks like the weatherman lied to us,” I grinned. It was actually snowing.
And suddenly a pleasant veil did seem to fall over everything.
He sat down in one of the seats on the balcony, and I sat down in a chair beside him.
“I always love when snow is unanticipated.” I found myself saying aloud. “You could be in the worst of moods, or in the middle of a fight with someone, and then all of a sudden it starts snowing, and you’re like, ‘Wait. It’s snowing.’ It makes everyone act like they’re in It’s A Wonderful Life, even if they don’t like snow. Because it’s not heavy duty snow or anything, it’s just drizzling.”
I felt him staring at me as I said this. “I get what you mean,” he finally said. “Snow makes everyone happier for some reason. Like, even the most horrid of people.”
“I mean, unless they just hate snow. There are always those ones.” I crossed my arms. It’s like seeing the snow made me feel the cold more.
“Yeah, those people usually just suck in general.” He said, and I laughed. We didn’t talk for a while after that, just letting the snow fall around us, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was like one of those silences when you’re both listening to a song, or you’re both really tired and you kind of just lay there. We had our heads filled with our own thoughts, and it wasn’t necessary to talk through them. I had never realized that there was someone out there who I could actually share a comfortable silence with.
“I really liked your show, by the way.” I swiveled around in my chair, facing him. “I probably should’ve started with that or something, but I was just now thinking about it. You guys have this sort of Arctic Monkeys slash Ramones thing going on.”
He just looked at me, a questioning look forming on his face. “Did you just say the word ‘slash’ out loud instead of and/or?”
I rolled my eyes. “It fit better than and/or would, so I just forgot the ‘and or’ part and just went with a straightforward slash.”
“I’ve never met someone who says ‘slash’ out loud.”
I watched the snow hit the railing.
“Well, I’ve never heard someone…Okay, I haven’t really noticed anything weird you say yet. You need to work on that.”
He smiled. “Yeah, okay, remind me to work on making my speech more unusual.”
“You know, you’re pretty smart for a drummer. Usually the drummers are the dumb ones.” I told him.
“So stereotypical of you,” he shook his head. “I say intelligent things sometimes.”
“And I’m sure you do.”
“Thanks, though. I’m glad to know that people who listen to the Ramones like our music too.”
The door opened then, and Mark stuck his head outside. “Jesus, it’s cold outside. Listen, Lo, sorry to ruin your moment, but we’ve got to go. Eliza’s working her way to a hangover for tomorrow morning, and I promised my dad I would get you guys home by at least one so you can sleep, since Mom’s expecting you three to get back by ten tomorrow morning. Don’t ask me. He pays for my gas. See you at the car in five.” He finished his monologue and closed the door.
We both stood up. “Well, James, it was nice meeting you. And talking about the weather.” 
He waffled his hands together, breathing into them for warmth. “Mark said you’re not from around here, huh? So I guess I shouldn’t be expecting you at any more shows.”
“Goldsgreen isn’t too far.” This night was good enough. There was no reason to ruin it by making it continue to tomorrow. “But I doubt it. Maybe if you’re still at State next fall, then I’ll think about stopping by some shows.”
He smiled, reaching out his hand. “I’d definitely be okay with that. Thanks for hanging out with me.”
“My pleasure,” I said, shaking his hand. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
I didn’t want to be the one to ask for a phone number or anything. This was all it was meant to be. Maybe the snow only just meant the snow, I guess. I said goodbye and went to find Mark’s car. Eliza was on a tipsy rant about JC Penney’s, and Charlotte was trying to choose which selfie from the night she wanted to put on Instagram. I looked back at the house only once as we drove away.

By nine in the morning we were back on the road, I offered to drive, so Charlotte and Eliza could sleep. I was listening to “Cigarette Daydreams” by Cage the Elephant, and I was trying to get my mind off the night before. I didn’t sleep much once we got home. I was taking care of Eliza, and that at least kept my mind off of James. And it really ticked me off, because I wasn’t usually the girl to think about things like this. Yeah, I liked guys, but none of them really kept me up at night, making me wish I had ended the previous night differently. I could’ve asked for his phone number at the least.
But I guess things ended the way they were supposed to. Movies lie to you, I think. They always make guys do something extravagantly romantic so they can get the girl, and that never happens in real life. Guys aren’t that dedicated unless they’re about to put a ring on it, and even then they’re still lazy. I shouldn’t have been surprised that James didn’t ask for my number or anything. I didn’t even know his last name. All I knew was that he was the drummer in the band Wasted Thorns. I knew that he used to go to Florida every Christmas, but he didn’t like it because he couldn’t wake up to the snow. And I knew that he liked the snow. And that was barely anything. Having a conversation that simple isn’t meant to lead to anything but finding a new acquaintance. And I knew that having a guy to talk to and hang out with wouldn’t change my life or anything, but it would at least make it easier to get through.
Eventually, we got home. I dropped Eliza off at her house and drove to my house. Charlotte drove her car back to her house, and I went inside. My mom asked me how the trip was, and I gave her the basic “it was fun” response. I told her I was tired, and I went up to my room, hoping to take a nap. And I did.
My ringtone, a song by The Killers, made me wake up. I had only been sleeping for a few hours, and I already felt more alive and awake than I did previously. I squinted my eyes at the bright screen, seeing a number I didn’t recognize calling me.
“Hello?” I answered, my voice coming out groggier than I had hoped.
“Um, hey, is this Lola, by any chance?”
I immediately sat up. “James? Hi, yeah, this is me.” I said, trying to sound more awake.
“Did I wake you up?” He laughed, “You do know that it’s almost two p.m., right?”
“My sleep schedule was kind of thrown off last night.” I told him. “Um, how’d you get my number?”
“I made Mark give it to me.”
“I’ve always liked him.” I said with a laugh.
“Anyway, I know that you live in Goldsgreen and everything, but I was just calling to say that I don’t really care. I think you’re the only girl who would ever talk to me about snow for, like, an hour, and not get up and leave. Most girls run as soon as I say something thought provoking. But, anyhow, last night, after you left, I stayed on the balcony for a while, and I started thinking about why I didn’t ask you for your number. I guess because I didn’t want to ruin anything. Okay, actually, it was just because I was afraid you didn’t want to give it to me. I’m calling now, though, and Mark said that if I asked you on a date there was a very small chance you’d say no, so that’s what I’m doing. Would you like to hang out with me sometime?”
And it was cheesy, but that was okay. Maybe there are actually some Ryan Gosling’s out there, now that I think about it, and I guess James is one of them. And I guess things do happen if they’re meant to happen. And, like I said, even though I don’t necessarily need some guy in my life, having one there wouldn’t be so bad.
I smiled. “You know, I think I’d be okay with that.”
I looked out my window, at the house across the street. If I stood up, I could’ve leaned over and saw more of Goldsgreen. The small town of Goldsgreen, with a Chili’s and a coffee shop. With no one who would be willing to sit around and talk to me about life, or just the weather. But now I’ve at least found someone, so I know that people like that actually exist. I tucked my hand into the sleeve of my shirt, lying back onto my pillow. Maybe Goldsgreen and its small size weren’t so bad after all. Because if it wasn’t so small, I wouldn’t have gone to Philadelphia. And if I hadn’t gone to Philadelphia, I’d still be looking for someone who could ponder every aspect of life with me. Or maybe just hang out with.