The Slope Rules Page 17

  “Dad?”

  His eyes move my way, then back to the road. “Yeah, sweetie?”

  “Are you ever going to forgive me?”

  The car jerks. “What?”

  “About the notebook.”

  “Cally, what are you talking about?”

  “It’s my fault it was stolen. And now I’m not even friends with those girls anymore. It’s like the only reason she talked to me in the first place was to get inside our house.”

  “Do you really think that?”

  “She’s a total bitch, so yes.”

  He laughs softly. “I meant that it’s your fault.”

  “I’m the one who let her in the house.”

  “Yes, but you can’t control other people’s actions.”

  “But the recipe...” I trail off. Because he hasn’t talked to me I still don’t know how this is going to affect the opening.

  “Cally, I’m upset it was stolen, yes. But we’ve been working on that recipe for months. Everything’s in the system, safe and sound.”

  This eases my anxiety a little, but not completely. “But what if Mischief releases the same beer?”

  He shrugs. “We’ll have it first. I’ve met the owner and while I don’t know him well, I get the impression he thinks highly enough of himself that he doesn’t need to rip off a competitor to succeed.”

  “But you don’t know for sure.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I’m still sorry.”

  “I know you are. Just do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Stop hanging out with people who steal from us.”

  I laugh. “Deal.”

  Floodlights bathe Eldora, making it look like something out of a movie. A lump catches in my throat. I haven’t been night skiing since our first week here, but in Vermont we went every week. Almost every day during the height of the season.

  Dad parks in the lot and carries his laptop toward the lodge while I head for lockers. Amber’s waiting inside.

  “Hey, you been here long?” I find a clear spot on the wooden bench to change my boots.

  She shakes her head. “Just a couple minutes.” She claps her hands together. “You ready for some real fun?”

  I lift my head to raise my eyebrow at her.

  “I’m taking you on the race course!”

  I straighten. “Is it set up?”

  “No, but I’ve seen it enough times to know the basic layout. You’re still planning to enter the Dash, right?”

  I stand and adjust my gear. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Then hurry your skinny ass up and let’s go!”

  I throw my glove at her face but she catches it before it hits her.

  “Come on!”

  We take the main lift to the top of the mountain, then skate across the ridge to the slopes on the far end of the resort. We stop in front of a smaller lodge where people are sipping hot cocoa on the deck.

  “The past couple years they’ve run it on Corona or West Ridge. Spectators always complain because they’re the farthest from the main lodge, but you can’t beat the view.”

  Colorado is breathtaking from ten thousand feet, but seeing it at night makes the rest of the world melt away. Stars blanket the sky as far as I can see. Darkness surrounds the resort, and even standing on top of the Rockies, I feel small, insignificant. And closer to Mom. Lights from nearby towns mark pockets of life; the largest and farthest away is Boulder.

  My emotions are still all over the place from earlier and my body feels sluggish. “Where do you live?” I ask, stalling.

  Amber points toward Boulder. “Just up the main road. You probably blinked on your way here and missed it.” I don’t respond and Amber nudges me. “Hey, you okay?”

  I bounce on my knees. Maybe if I go through the motions my body will remember what it’s supposed to do. “It’s just been a long day.”

  This time her hand stays on my arm. “It’s more than that. Is it about the party?”

  The party seems like eons ago. So much has happened since then, but Mom is still at the front of my thoughts. I know I can trust Amber, but I don’t want to get into all that for the second time today. “It’s not a big deal. Oh, but Brianna got suspended today.”

  “Since when do they suspend people for being a bitch?”

  I point at my lip. “When you push someone and make them bleed.”

  “Oh, shit.” She peers at my mouth, frowning. “That can’t feel good.”

  “Eh, I’ve had worse.” I don’t mention what I was doing when my lip split open, but I can’t stop the blush that warms my cheeks.

  “But other than your busted lip, you’re okay?”

  “Let’s take this one a little slower.”

  She drops her hand and adjusts her goggles. A smirk dances on her lips. “I’m not making any promises.” She drops over the edge and I follow close behind. We cut across the powder in an elegant game of follow the leader, Amber weaving around skiers like they’re standing still, her wide arc blazing a trail that’s easy for me to find, even under floodlights. My heart rate slows as our speed increases. I’m finally in the groove. My body reacts on its own—left foot lifting slightly off the ground when I cut right, then pressing hard when I shift to the left—as if the sound of fiberglass scraping over snow is all I needed to find my balance.

  We crest a smaller hill and Amber crouches low to her board. “Oh, no you don’t.” I lower into a tuck and point my skis straight down the hill. Trees and skiers and light poles flash by in a blur—all I see is Amber up ahead. My heart flutters and I take a short breath as a sensation like runner’s high sweeps over me. Here, when I’m flying down a mountain on the edge of losing control, is where I can almost feel Mom’s arms around me.

  The moment doesn’t last long enough. I want to whisper to her about Blake and the stolen notebook and how my friends back home are moving on without me, but Amber rounds a bank of trees and the chairlift comes into view. I blink away tears and tuck tighter, intent on passing Amber before we reach the bottom.

  She must sense my approach because she speeds up. She crosses the invisible finish line—the chairlift booth—a length ahead of me and we spray each other with snow as we stop. She laughs as we join the line for the lift. “Man, I wasn’t sure what to expect from you. Usually you can do tricks or race, not both. But you...” she trails off, watching me.

  I wipe the snow off my ski with my pole. My throat is still tight and it’s hard to talk. I shouldn’t bring this up when my emotions are all over the place, but I want to hold onto Mom as long as I can. “My mom taught me to ski as soon as I could walk. She was big time back in the day and I’ve always wanted to be like her.”

  We slide forward in line and the chair swings around, scooping us high into the night air.

  “You’ve never mentioned her before. Are your parents still together?”

  “She died when I was eight.” It shouldn’t still hurt to say those words, but fifty feet in the air—the place she loved most—it nearly breaks my heart all over again.

  “Oh, wow. I’m sorry.”

  I shrug. The lump in my throat tightens.

  Amber drags her hand back and forth across the safety rail. “Do you...” she takes a breath. “Do you want to take a break?”

  I know that’s the last thing she wants so I appreciate the offer. I smile, but my skin feels tight, like it’s fighting being happy. “Actually, I feel her the most when I’m up here. In the air.” I wave my hand at the dark trees lining the chairlift’s path. “This is where she loved to be.”

  “That’s awesome you still feel connected to her like that.”

  I hold back the protests that flood to my lips. It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. It’s been seven years and her death still feels raw, like a pie
ce was ripped out of my heart. Everyone assured me it would get easier with time, but I sometimes worry I’ll never move on.

  Amber twists on the narrow seat to face me. “Hey, seriously. We can go hang in the lodge.”

  And then Dad will see me and wonder what’s wrong. “No, I’ll be okay. I don’t talk about her much and this is the second time in a couple hours. I just feel a little off.”

  “I know the cure for that.”

  I raise an eyebrow, even though she can’t actually see my eyes because of my goggles. “What’s that?”

  “A race.”

  “Oh, you’re on.” Nothing—not even getting all weepy-eyed over Mom—can turn off my competitiveness once a challenge has been made. I straighten, readying myself to dismount. Excitement worms through my body, shaking off my funk. I bounce on the seat.

  Amber laughs. “That’s all it takes to perk you up?”

  “What can I say? I’m not very complicated.”

  “I like that about you.”

  I smile at her as the end of the lift nears. My skis hit snow and we round the tiny chairlift house in unison. Amber drops to her butt to hook into her board, then we’re standing at the edge, our breath fogging in the air before us.

  “Rules?” I ask.

  She touches her gloved finger to her chin. “Don’t wipe out?”

  I bark out a laugh. “I don’t plan to.”

  “Then let’s go. On your mark, get set...” We ready ourselves to push off. “Go!”

  I launch over the edge and feel a twinge of guilt at how quickly I pick up speed. Everyone knows skis are faster than boards—and Amber has to know that too—but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna hold back.

  I follow the same route as before. The people who were on this run the last time seem to have disappeared and it’s like the mountain is here just for me. I stay in my tuck, picking up speed with each shift of my weight, everything else around me a blur. I crest a hill and catch air, soaring over the snow. I don’t consider this a real jump—not compared to what I do on the terrain park—but the rush is the same. All adrenaline and the feeling like my heart’s going to explode with happiness.

  I can hear Amber’s board behind me, but she’s far enough back that I know I’ve got this. Even so, I keep my skis straight until I’m almost to the bottom, then stop in a spray of powder.

  “You cheated!”

  I flip up my goggles. “What? No, I—”

  She throws snow at my face. “I’m kidding. You smoked my ass.”

  “Did you expect anything less?”

  She nods at the lift. “Ready to go again?”

  We run the course a dozen more times, until my legs are wobbling and I can barely stand. So of course we do one more. We’re standing at the edge of the line for the chairlift and I lean forward, stretching the back of my legs. My knee’s on the border between total exhaustion and holy hell, what are you doing to me. “Can we call it a night? My knee’s ready to give out.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything? Do you have problems with it?”

  I shrug. “I do jumps. I have bad knees. Comes with the territory.”

  She rests her hand on my arm. “You should have told me.” Her eyes focus on mine through our goggles. “Seriously. We’re just having fun. I don’t want you to risk an injury.”

  I smile. “Now you sound like my dad.”

  “He cares about you. I get that.” She moves closer. “You’ve got snow all over your face.” She brushes her glove over my cheek and before I realize what’s happening she’s leaning closer and her lips are touching mine and OMG what the hell is going on? Her lips are soft and way more gentle than any boys’ but... but...

  I pull back gently. Her eyes flutter open and she watches me with wary eyes. “Amber...” I don’t know what to say, but the fact that I’m not smiling probably says enough.

  She backs up. “I’m sorry. I thought... I guess I... I’m so sorry.” She looks around, as if suddenly realizing there are other people around us. A few watch with curiosity, but for the most part no one’s paying us any attention. Her gaze skitters over my face, to the ground, to her hands.

  I hold up a hand between us. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “I was sure—omigod, I’m such an idiot.” She turns away, pushing off in the direction of the lodge.

  “Amber, wait!” I hurry after her and yank on her jacket but she doesn’t slow down. There’s no easy escape when you’re on the side of a mountain, plus she can only go so fast on her board, and I match her pace. “It was a mistake. It’s not like you bombed a plane. Just forget it.”

  “I totally screwed things up.”

  When a friend you aren’t interested in kisses you—nah, forget it. I don’t have a rule for that!

  Slope Rule #9: Make the best of a bad situation.

  I can’t hold back a laugh. “Maybe if you’d slipped me some tongue, but you didn’t.”

  Her jaw drops. Is she deciding she hates me?

  We move in silence, my comment growing more and more awkward as the minutes tick by. Finally, she sighs. “I feel really stupid.”

  “Don’t.

  “I’m terrible at this. I brought Bethany to your party to help me figure out if you were interested, but she spent most of the time talking to that guy Austin and didn’t pay attention to you.”

  How could she think I was interested? Blake was there and as much as I tried to hide it, it was pretty obvious I’m into him. Oh—but she left right when he got there. And since we’re not in the same school she wouldn’t know. “I’m really sorry if I sent you mixed signals. This just shows how bad I am at relationships.”

  She risks a glance at me. “Why do you say that?”

  I hesitate. Telling her about Blake when she’s already upset is a total dick move.

  She stops, and I pause next to her. “Cally, just tell me what’s going on.”

  “There’s this guy. The one who was at the door when you were leaving.”

  “Blake?”

  “You know him?”

  “Sure, he and Luke are always falling all over their asses on the terrain park.”

  I laugh. “That sounds about right.”

  “So you like him?”

  “There’s a little more to it than that, but...”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  Am I? It seems like a heart can’t break as badly as mine did if I was just in like with someone. I sigh. “I don’t know.”

  “But something’s going on?” Her face is unreadable.

  I don’t want to hurt her more than I already have. It must’ve taken a lot of guts to kiss me—even more than kissing a guy—but she knows Blake better than any other girl I’ve met and maybe she can help me figure him out. So I tell her our long, drawn-out saga. I conclude with “We’re going on our first real date this Friday, but I worry that whatever issues he hasn’t told me about are going to get in the way.”

  She sinks to the ground. “Wow.”

  “Sorry to dump all that on you.” I pop out of my skis and sit next to her.

  She digs her fingers into the snow, flicking it into the air. “Blake’s a cool guy but he’s definitely got a hangup about money. I’ve never understood it, but our schools are different. We don’t have the ‘rich bitches’, as he calls them.”

  Is that what he thinks I am? A rich bitch?

  “It sucks that he treated you the way he did. If it seems like he’s opening up, I’d say go for it, but you tell me if he pulls that crap again and I’ll take out his kneecaps.”

  I burst out laughing. The rush of endorphins feels good after having my emotions on full throttle all day. “Please don’t hurt his kneecaps.”

  She rolls her eyes and smiles. “Maybe just an ankle.”

  My phone dings in my pocket. I check my texts. “It’s m
y dad. I need to go.”

  We push ourselves to our feet and continue the trek back to the lodge. We stop outside the lockers, neither of us ready to go inside. Amber fidgets with the lift ticket on her pocket, once again refusing to meet my eyes. “Are we okay?”

  “Yes. I swear.”

  “Will you be here Saturday?”

  “As if my life depended on it. And hey, thank you for taking me through the runs tonight. I still need more practice, but I feel a lot better about the competition.”

  She snorts. “You could win that tomorrow on your wobbly legs.”

  “Ha, right. But I appreciate your confidence.”

  “So you’re sure we’re cool?”

  “Seriously. Forget it.” I lean forward and give her a quick hug. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

  ***

  The next day is oddly calm. The halls are free of random arms and legs pushing and tripping me, and I go about my day like a normal student. “I could get used to this,” I say to Mike at lunch. We’re still sitting at the table on the other side of the cafeteria, but for the first time this week, I don’t feel the need to keep an eye on the Bunnies. Of course, that could be because Brianna’s home serving her suspension and it’s only Kenzie today.

  “I doubt it’ll last. Bri puts on a good show for the teachers, but she’ll consider this the ultimate humiliation.” She lowers her voice like Darth Vader. “You will pay.”

  I snort, almost choking on my water. “Awesome. Can’t wait.”

  “How was skiing last night?”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her about Amber, but I hesitate. I’m ninety-nine percent certain I can trust Mike—at this point I’m her only friend and alienating me would really make things suck for her—but some people get all weird about homosexuality. I’d peg Mike for the “you do you” crowd, but you never know. And while I don’t tolerate homophobes, I’m a tiny bit afraid to lose my only friend.

  “It was good. Amber showed me the race course so I ran that until I practically collapsed.” I rub my thighs under the table. “I used to train a lot harder than I’ve been. I’m a little worried I won’t be ready in a month.”

  “Cally, I’ve seen you ski. You have nothing to worry about.”