Fabulous Five 030 - Sibling Rivalry (3 page)

Frowning, Beth checked her watch. Her father had left only
ten minutes ago. That meant she could stay for another fifty minutes, if she
wanted to.

But why bother? she thought gloomily. Everyone will dance
except me, everyone will have fun except me, everyone will talk and be included
in the conversation. Except me. There's no point in hanging around. It's just
too depressing to be left out. Not to mention embarrassing.

She faked a yawn. "I'm pretty tired," she told
Julie. "Guess I'll go upstairs and let my folks come down for a
while."

"Okay," Julie said faintly. "See you
tomorrow."

Beth sighed. She got up and headed upstairs to her room,
where she could have her own dream about whirling around the dance floor with
Marcel Goujon.

"I can't believe I'm going to learn to ski!"
Brittany said the next morning. She had been primping before the mirror for
almost an hour already, and it wasn't even time for breakfast.

"You mean you can't wait to hang around Marcel,"
Beth mumbled under her breath.

She was in no mood to put up with Brittany this morning. She
hadn't fallen asleep for hours last night, alternating between reliving the
embarrassing scenes in the dining room and wandering what was going on at home
during the first night of Winter Carnival. She had memorized the carnival
schedule before she left home. Last night there had been toboggan races down
Spyglass Hill and a snowman-building contest. She knew that everyone had been
there—except her. And they'd probably all had a ball. In all of that
excitement, had anyone missed her? she wondered. Had anyone even noticed that
she wasn't there? The thought made her shiver.

After breakfast the Barrys made a stop at the ski shop,
renting skis, boots, and poles. Beth and Todd trailed behind the others as they
clomped toward the slopes with their skis over their shoulders, Beth suddenly
stopped and plunged her free hand into her jacket pocket.

"Oh, no," she whispered, pulling a red leather
change purse out and shaking her head angrily.

"Hey, what's in there?" asked Todd.
"Money," he added in a satisfied tone. "You always keep money in
there, don't you?"

"Don't get any big ideas," Beth warned. "I'm
not going to spend it. It's the money I'm saving for our trip to London over
spring break to visit Christie. I just didn't want to leave it home while we're
here. Someone could break in and steal it."

"So why did you pull it out now?" asked Todd.

"I just remembered that it was in my jacket. I meant to
hide it in my room while we're skiing. I'd die if I lost it on the
slopes."

"Hey, I'll keep it for you," Todd said, grinning
slyly.

"Oh, no you don't." Beth pushed it deep into her
pocket and zippered it in. Then she patted the pocket and said, "I'll take
my chances right here."

As they hurried on to catch up with the others, Beth felt a
tingle of anticipation for the trip to England during the school vacation in
the spring. Each family had agreed to pay airfare if the girls would save their
own spending money. It was going to be tough to accumulate enough in the few
weeks left before the trip, and Beth was determined not to let her money out of
her sight.

When Beth and Todd reached the meeting area for beginner
lessons at the bottom of the slope, Mr. and Mrs. Barry had already dropped
Alicia off at the school for tiny tots and were heading for the lifts
themselves, since they already knew how to ski.

Todd had skied before, too, and he stopped short of the
beginners' area and said to Beth, "Hey, I told my friends I'd meet them by
the lift. See you later."

Beth waved good-bye to Todd and went to join Brian and
Brittany, who were standing with Julie, Molly, and Sarah. As usual, no one
noticed her. Brian was deep in conversation with Molly, and Brittany was
scanning the crow d on the slopes.

Julie giggled. "If you're looking for Marcel, he's on
his way." She pointed to a figure in a red ski jacket walking toward them
carrying skis over his shoulder.

"Ohhhhh," Brittany breathed. "He's even
better-looking in the daylight."

"He sure is," agreed Sarah.

"Okay, everyone, we're ready to start," Marcel
called out when he reached the area a moment later. The skiers stopped talking
and gave him their attention. "First, let me eeentroduce myself. I am
Marcel Goujon, your eeenstruc-tair. Call me Marcel."

"His accent is sooo fantastic," Brittany whispered
to Sarah.

"Tell me about it," Sarah whispered back.

There were about fifteen people in the class, Beth noticed
as she glanced around. Their ages varied from a man who looked to be in his
sixties to a few elementary school kids. Again, however, there wasn't anyone
Beth's age.

"Ze first thing we need to learn," Marcel was
saying, "is to put on ze skis."

"That should be helpful for skiing!" said Brittany
loudly. Julie giggled.

Everyone turned to look at Brittany, and she grinned at
Marcel.

He smiled back and continued. "First you'll need to
clean ze snow from your boots. Use ze tip of your pole. Then step into ze
bindings, toe first. Watch. I will show you."

The skiers crowded near to watch. Brittany was almost
touching his shoulder. Beth followed Marcel's instructions and felt her boots
click into the bindings. She slid her skis back and forth on the snow to test
them. They felt tight.

"I think mine are loose," Julie called out.
"Can you help me please, Marcel?"

"Mais oui
,"
Marcel replied. He
glided gracefully over to her and leaned down to check her skis. Julie rolled
her eyes in a mock swoon. Some of the girls in the group looked jealous,
including Brittany.

After he had helped Julie and a few others with their skis,
Marcel said, "Now let's learn how to fall."

"I thought that came naturally," commented
Brittany. Everyone laughed.

"
Oui,
it does, but there is a right way and a
wrong way to fall," Marcel answered. "It's important to remember: Do
not
tense up when you fall. Keep your skis together and fall to ze side and
backward a little. Always try to keep your skis downhill."

Beth loved hearing Marcel talk. His accent was fabulous. But
she tried to concentrate on what he was saying. If the rest of the vacation was
going to be crummy, at least she would learn to ski.

"Okay, let's say you have just fallen," Marcel
said. "Ze next thing to do is learn how to get back up. Everyone sit on ze
ground."

The class did as they were told.

He explained how to use the poles to pull up in the snow and
then demonstrated the technique. He sprang to his feet with one effortless
movement. "Voilà! Nothing to it. Now you do it."

The skiers followed his directions, laughing at how awkward
they felt. Beth concentrated on following Marcel's example and managed to pull
herself to her feet. Pleased, she looked around at the others, who were
grunting and struggling and gradually getting up. Brittany kept pulling and
pushing and plopping back down.

"Marcel!" cried Brittany, falling back one more
time.

With a feeling of disgust Beth watched Marcel help her
sister. Brittany was obviously pretending to be helpless just to get his
attention.

"If you should land with your skis crossed,"
Marcel continued, "or pointed in opposite directions—"

"Ouch! That sounds painful," called out Brittany.

"It sure does," said Sarah. The rest of the class
murmured agreement.

Marcel smiled patiently and went on. "Roll onto your
back and lift both skis in ze air. Then you can swing them so they are parallel
and put them on ze snow again." He looked at Brittany. "It's not as
bad as it sounds," he said. "Most of ze time you do not get
hurt."

His attention made Brittany beam. Beth felt like throwing
up.

"Now let's try walking," Marcel said. "It's
not really walking, but gliding instead."

He taught them how to slide along in the snow and coordinate
their ski poles with the right, left, right, left movement of their legs. He
also taught them how to turn around on their skis, and how to do a sidestep
climb up a hill.

"Okay, I believe you're ready to try a little
hill," said Marcel. "Follow me to ze bunny slope."

They ski-walked behind Marcel to the smallest slope in the
area. Actually, Beth decided, it was more of an incline than a hill. It was not
much taller than she was, and it ran gradually down at a gentle slope.

"We'll use ze towrope," Marcel explained. He
stopped near a small wooden structure from which a rope, about waist high,
moved slowly up the slope to another structure at the top.

Beth watched as two skiers who had gotten there ahead of the
class grasped the rope and let it pull them up the hill.

"Put your skis into ze groove in ze snow, and gently
squeeze ze rope until it pulls you along. Don't squeeze tightly or put your
weight on it. It will not support you. Watch. I will show you."

He grabbed the rope and squeezed gently, and it pulled him
up the hill. He skied back down. "Now I will help you. Who is first?"

Brittany's hand shot up. "I'll go first!"

"Fine. Come." He beckoned to her, and she glided
over to him, grinning from ear to ear.

Marcel put his arms around Brittany from behind and helped
her position her hands on the rope. Brittany stood, not paying attention to his
instruction, but gazing back into his eyes. Marcel asked, "Ready?"

She didn't answer for a moment, but continued to stare at
him, her mouth hanging open a little. Beth was so embarrassed, she had to look
away. Brittany was making a complete fool of herself!

"Mademoiselle? Ready?" Marcel asked Brittany
again.

"Oh!" Brittany snapped to attention. "Yes!
Yes, I'm ready."

"Okay, hold on. Keep your skis parallel to ze rope.
We'll see you at ze top," Marcel said.

"Bye," Brittany said in a little voice. She
gripped the towrope, and as it started pulling her, she glanced over her
shoulder with a look of panic on her face.

"Watch ze top of ze slope!" Marcel yelled to her.

"Oh!" Brittany nearly fell, but managed to keep
herself upright.

Marcel smiled and watched her till she reached the top of
the incline and slid off to one side.
"Très bien!"
he called
up to her, clapping his hands.

From where she stood at the bottom of the slope, Beth could
see the pleasure in Brittany's face. Brittany beamed, then took a dramatic bow.
Beth shook her head and wished she could crawl into a hole somewhere. How could
Marcel be attracted to Brittany when she was acting so stupid?

Beth was the last one to ride the towrope up the slope. She
forced herself to pay attention to what she was doing. She followed Marcel's
instructions carefully, so she wouldn't look as idiotic as Brittany had, and
she made it up the hill without an incident.

At the top of the slope Marcel announced that the next thing
they would do was learn to "snowplow." He explained that it was the
easiest way to control their downhill speed. He showed the skiers how to put
the tips of the skis together and the tails out to form an inverted V.

"This will slow you down," he explained.
"When you want to go faster, pull your skis back into ze parallel position
and continue downhill. Then when you're going too fast again, put ze tips
together." He demonstrated the snowplow technique, slowing and speeding up
as he skied down the slope.

"Wow," said Brittany when he had returned.
"Marcel, you're such an
expert!
You make it look so
easy!
"

"Would you like to try first?" asked Marcel.
"It's not hard."

Brittany practically dove at him. "You bet!"

He glided with her to the edge of the incline.

"Oh, this is scary!" she said, putting her hand on
his arm.

"You'll be fine." Marcel spoke in a soothing
voice.

"What if I fall?" Brittany responded helplessly.

"Remember how I taught you to fall," Marcel
answered. "To ze side and backward."

"Oh, yeah," she said. "Okay. Well, here
goes."

Beth was almost afraid to look, and she squinted as she
watched her sister push off the slope and start down.

"Ohhhhhhh!" Brittany called out.

"When you feel yourself going too fast, put your ski
tips together," Marcel shouted.

Brittany made a sudden, jerky movement and fell flat on her
seat, sliding for several feet before coming to a stop. Marcel skied to her and
helped her up. Then he said something to her that Beth couldn't hear, and
Brittany started again. When she finally reached the bottom of the slope, she
cheered loudly. Marcel laughed.

One by one the rest of the group tried the snowplow. Beth
found to her surprise that she could do it pretty easily. She actually enjoyed
it and tried curving back and forth across the slope. When she reached the
bottom without falling once, Marcel approached her.

"Good job," he said. "Your size is good for
skiing. You are small and light. That is very good."

Beth smiled at him. She turned to see if Brittany had heard
Marcel's compliment, but of course she hadn't. She was huddled with Julie and
Sarah, undoubtedly telling them about her own experience with Marcel a few
minutes ago.

The class continued to practice on the bunny slope for the
rest of the lesson. Brittany, Julie, and Sarah are acting so stupid, Beth
thought. They kept falling and laughing loudly and asking Marcel for help.

Molly played the helpless female, too, only her target
wasn't Marcel. It was Brian.

"Oh, Brian, can you help me up?"

"Oh, Brian, this is so hard! Would you show me how to
do it."

"Brian! You're so strong!"

Beth was disgusted with all of them. When the lesson was
over and they were back at the lodge, she sat by the fireplace in the great
room listening to Brittany and the other girls gush about "Magnificent
Marcel." They schemed about asking him to dance that night and inviting
him to the game room to play pool.

Beth wished she could join in the conversation, even though
she thought the girls were acting like jerks. She thought Marcel was wonderful,
too, but she didn't want to say anything. The older girls would make fun of
her. If only The Fabulous Five were here, she thought, they'd understand how I
feel. We'd be laughing and talking and having fun, too.

Beth sighed and felt a lump forming in her chest. But The
Fabulous Five weren't here. Katie, Jana, and Melanie were at home, having a
blast at Winter Carnival, Christie was having the time of her life in London,
and she was stuck here. Even though she was with her whole family, and there
were other people around, Beth was still lonely. And there was nothing she
could do about it. She had no friends here, no one she could talk to. What a
crummy vacation.