100 Degrees: An environmentalist story Continued

I was in a daze for that whole school day, reading passages in English, and getting to the middle of a paragraph, realizing that I hadn't understood a single sentence I had read. Doing half of my Math problems wrong, and not sparing a thought to what I did in Science because I knew that everything we did while not caring about the world was wrong. Eating one bite of food without realizing that you may be living off of tropical fruits in just a few years was terrible. It was edging towards impossible to live through the school day knowing that only palm trees could grow in people's yards just because we didn't care. I went through the school day, my ears turning each lecture into a slurred monotone, thinking about what I could do about the world.
I didn't say one word on the bus. I couldn't think about anything besides how unfair it was that a few important people's non-caring lives could make the world be like this...60 degrees for the coolest winter in the United States. That always seemed like it was normal; how it should be. But, as I had learned in school which, at the time, had seemed to be useless information, it had to be 32 degrees or cooler to snow. That was the freezing point of water. The coldest winter temperature would have to half in order for it to ever snow again. I was eager to see snow – more than eager – but wouldn't it be a bit...frightening for it to suddenly be 32 degrees for an entire season, an entire three months? It would be like living in a freezer for a quarter of a year. Was that what it was like in the winters when it did snow? How long ago was that? I had so many questions about snow on my mind, but I had one burning question that made me freeze when I even asked it to myself: Would it ever snow again?