How a Notebook Changed My Life (Crazy, But it's True)
an excerpt

“Okay,” said Jonathan. “That seems to pose a problem.”

“And what problem is that?” I asked sarcastically.

“How can you be your wonderful, lively self if you’re so cold you’re shaking?” he asked, like it was completely obvious. “Well, I’ll just have to get you warmed up, I guess.”

That comment made me blush, and I scolded myself – he meant nothing like that.

“Well, there are the obvious remedies, of course,” said Jonathan, holding up a hand. “Hot chocolate,” he began, ticking off one of his fingers.

“Already tried,” I said, watching him warily.

“And turning up the thermostat,” Jonathan continued, tapping another finger.

“Useless, here,” I said, thinking of the drafty, poorly insulated house.

“Well, then, there’s another option,” said my best friend slowly, letting his hand fall to his side.

“What is it?” I asked, anxious.

“Well, the obvious, of course,” he said, a grin on his face. I sat there, confused. Suddenly Jonathan jumped up, grabbed the blanket I had and pulled it off of me, and ran with it. For a second I just sat there, dumbfounded. And then I began to get angry.

“You’d better not think you’re going to get away with this!” I shouted, for he was in the kitchen now. I jumped up and began chasing after him – only to have him whip right past me just as I went through the door way, blanket in hand. I stopped, whipped around, and went after him, although he had already gotten a head start. This time he shot up the stairs like a bullet.

As tall and long legged as he was, however, he was no match for tiny, dwarfish, twig like me. I caught up soon enough, grabbed hold of the blanket, and sent him tumbling down. I then fell on top of him, clutching the blanket as if my life depended on it, and we stayed there, tangled in a heap, laughing so hard that I could barely see and I was sure that for him it was likewise.
We must have stated there for ten minutes, just laughing and occasionally attempting to kick or slap each other (well, I admit, those mostly came from me).
“Well, that was interesting,” I finally spluttered, mirthful tears in my eyes.

“You can’t say – that it didn’t work,” said Jonathan between bursts of laughter.

“That’s true,” I admitted. I in fact felt quite warm now, heated by the energy burned while running. After another minute, I finally attempted to disentangle myself from him and get to my feet – only to feel him pull me back by the waist, putting me in the position so that my head was right underneath his chin, right against his chest.

For a minute I couldn’t make myself move or say a word. I could hear Jonathan’s heart beat, hear his breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest, all in rhythm with each other. My own heart was beating at nearly twice the speed, just at the simple sensation of his arm around me. I hoped he couldn’t feel it.