the operator had his word. Tara shut her eyes, trying not to groan. She’d have done anything to get that snowboard off her feet. Her pinkie toes had gone numb inside her boots hours ago. Jake grabbed her by the elbow and slid into place, both of them craning their necks backward, waiting for the chairlift to scoop them up.
Tara winced as the chair slammed against the backs of her thighs. The safety bar came down across their laps and she ducked into the scarf wrapped around her neck. It was cold, the sun having dipped just beyond the crest of the mountain, leaving the entire ski area in frigid shadow. And to make things worse, the slush of the day was starting to freeze into a slick of ice. She could hardly maneuver on fresh powder, let alone on hard-packed permafrost. The idea of catching the edge of her board and flying headfirst down the hill twisted her stomach into knots—but an injury wouldn’t have been so bad. It would have put her out for the rest of the season. A broken wrist almost seemed worth it.
Jake was the first to launch off the lift. Tara always hesitated, calculating the least terrifying, least treacherous trajectory to take. But no matter how much she steeled her nerves or planned her dismount, she always ended up on her back, and this time was no different. She crashed a few seconds after shoving herself off the chairlift, clenching her teeth behind the woven wool of her scarf. At least there wasn’t another group of boarders behind them to see her fall; at least the hill was completely devoid of people, all of those right-minded skiers at the base of the mountain, packing up their gear and getting out of the cold. Jake cameto a stop a few yards away, snapping his left foot into his board as he waited for her to get up and join him. She sighed, shoving her boot into her binding.
“It’s too icy,” she called out to him. He lifted his hand to his ear, shaking his head at her. Pushing her scarf away from her mouth, she made a face at him. “It’s slick. I’m going to kill myself.”
Jake looked away, and she hoped he was considering the steep downgrade ahead of him. The hill was an intermediate blue, interspersed with a handful of well-camouflaged moguls—ones that were virtually invisible in the shade. If it had been a green trail it wouldn’t have been so bad, but naturally he had to make their last run count.
“We’ll take a detour,” he told her, motioning to a line of pines. “There’s a side trail just beyond those trees. It’ll be less hard-packed there.”
“
Off
the trail?” She shook her head. There was no way she was going off the trail, not when the slope was empty like this, not when there weren’t any people to help them if they got into trouble. Jake looked away again, and she could feel him rolling his eyes at her. If worse came to worst, she’d unstrap her board and use it like a sled, sliding all the way down the hill until she was safe and sound in front of the lodge. Hell, that might actually be
fun
.
“It’s a trail,” he told her. “It’s on the map.”
“Are you sure?”
“Babe, come on. I’m sure.”
“Goddamnit,” she whispered, securing the strap of her binding before rocking onto her feet.
The trail wasn’t a trail.
Tara nearly screamed when she found herself knee-deep in a snowdrift. Jake was hopping in front of her, trying to dislodgehis board from an impossible depth of powder while she silently raged behind him. After a few minute of fruitless effort, she was the first to throw in the towel.
“
This
was on the map? I swear, sometimes you just…”
drive me fucking nuts
. She bit her tongue, trying to keep herself from boiling over. This wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t
purposely
led them into a snowdrift. She continued to echo his innocence inside her head, trying to keep her anger in check, but the cold was making it difficult to stay quiet. The snow, which had found its way into her boots and was now melting against her socks,
Tara winced as the chair slammed against the backs of her thighs. The safety bar came down across their laps and she ducked into the scarf wrapped around her neck. It was cold, the sun having dipped just beyond the crest of the mountain, leaving the entire ski area in frigid shadow. And to make things worse, the slush of the day was starting to freeze into a slick of ice. She could hardly maneuver on fresh powder, let alone on hard-packed permafrost. The idea of catching the edge of her board and flying headfirst down the hill twisted her stomach into knots—but an injury wouldn’t have been so bad. It would have put her out for the rest of the season. A broken wrist almost seemed worth it.
Jake was the first to launch off the lift. Tara always hesitated, calculating the least terrifying, least treacherous trajectory to take. But no matter how much she steeled her nerves or planned her dismount, she always ended up on her back, and this time was no different. She crashed a few seconds after shoving herself off the chairlift, clenching her teeth behind the woven wool of her scarf. At least there wasn’t another group of boarders behind them to see her fall; at least the hill was completely devoid of people, all of those right-minded skiers at the base of the mountain, packing up their gear and getting out of the cold. Jake cameto a stop a few yards away, snapping his left foot into his board as he waited for her to get up and join him. She sighed, shoving her boot into her binding.
“It’s too icy,” she called out to him. He lifted his hand to his ear, shaking his head at her. Pushing her scarf away from her mouth, she made a face at him. “It’s slick. I’m going to kill myself.”
Jake looked away, and she hoped he was considering the steep downgrade ahead of him. The hill was an intermediate blue, interspersed with a handful of well-camouflaged moguls—ones that were virtually invisible in the shade. If it had been a green trail it wouldn’t have been so bad, but naturally he had to make their last run count.
“We’ll take a detour,” he told her, motioning to a line of pines. “There’s a side trail just beyond those trees. It’ll be less hard-packed there.”
“
Off
the trail?” She shook her head. There was no way she was going off the trail, not when the slope was empty like this, not when there weren’t any people to help them if they got into trouble. Jake looked away again, and she could feel him rolling his eyes at her. If worse came to worst, she’d unstrap her board and use it like a sled, sliding all the way down the hill until she was safe and sound in front of the lodge. Hell, that might actually be
fun
.
“It’s a trail,” he told her. “It’s on the map.”
“Are you sure?”
“Babe, come on. I’m sure.”
“Goddamnit,” she whispered, securing the strap of her binding before rocking onto her feet.
The trail wasn’t a trail.
Tara nearly screamed when she found herself knee-deep in a snowdrift. Jake was hopping in front of her, trying to dislodgehis board from an impossible depth of powder while she silently raged behind him. After a few minute of fruitless effort, she was the first to throw in the towel.
“
This
was on the map? I swear, sometimes you just…”
drive me fucking nuts
. She bit her tongue, trying to keep herself from boiling over. This wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t
purposely
led them into a snowdrift. She continued to echo his innocence inside her head, trying to keep her anger in check, but the cold was making it difficult to stay quiet. The snow, which had found its way into her boots and was now melting against her socks,
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