The Dead of Winter (Seasons of Jefferson: Book 2) (21 page)

As I’m grabbing my stuff from the bus, Tyler comes up beside me. “You want to take a run with me?”

I’m a little embarrassed that I’m not allowed on Coyote. Typically, that part of the mountain is no big deal, but it does have the most advanced runs in the park. “Well, I’m not sure you want to waste your time with me. Coach Rico told me to take it easy.” I lift my arm, reminding him that I still haven’t been released to compete. “I have to stay on Douglas.”

“No worries. It’s not about speed right now.” A devious grin spreads across his face, “It’s more about
skill.
I spied some hotties from the Mount Shasta team over there.” He points toward the direction of the lift, where a group of four snow angels are stretching on skis. “See what I mean? We’re not going up to snowboard, we’re going up to see who’s under those kick ass racing suits.”

I shrug my shoulders, “I can handle that.”

“You sure?”

“Let’s go Double 007.”
This could be fun
. I’m up for a little detective work, even if it is just to help out my buddy.

As we make our way to the lift, I watch two of the four Lady Bears standing with their backs to the oncoming lift chair.

“Hurry, dude. Let’s not get too far behind them,” Tyler prods. He bounces around like a puppy waiting for a bone. He really seems to be excited about the view up here. I can’t blame him. It’s always nice to see fresh faces when you’ve been surrounded by the same small litter since kindergarten.

I nod my head and focus on the girls getting onto the lift. There are so many racers swarming this hill that I need to study their suits and helmets so I don’t lose track of them. The two blonds hop on first.
Goodbye tight, shiny, blue suits
. Next up is the ginger in red and black, accompanied by a curly-haired brunette. Good thing for colorful suits and ponytails, or I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between these four girls. They’re all tiny, little things, with similar frames, and those race helmets make it damn near impossible to tell who’s behind them.

My eyes are drawn to the yellow and black suit. The one that the brunette is wearing.
Good taste, Curlicue. Sleek.
Sharp.
Just like a yellow jacket. Wonder how many people she’s gonna sting out on that course today.

I’m almost knocked off my board when the chair swings around and hits me at the back of my knees.
That came around quick.
I pull my stare away from the girls and look at Tyler.

“Do you think we’ll find them up there?” He flips his goggles, visibly squinting to get a better look.

“How can you miss them? They look like Christmas ornaments. Just look for the shiny, blue and red. I’m going for the yellow and black. We’ve got this.”

“So, you get one and I get three? Doesn’t sound quite fair,” Tyler laughs. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks incredulously.

“Something tells me the one I’m looking at is enough.”

“If you insist. Are you sure you don’t want to take one more? I feel like the odds are in my favor, here.”

I think about it for a minute. There’s something about that suit and those curls that make the other three girls blur into the background. Her spunky glow definitely sets her apart from the rest.
She’ll be the most fun to chase.
Not that I’d do anything once I caught her. Just an entertaining fishing expedition.
Catch and release.

The lift hitches, as a beginner unloads a few seats up. We progress forward quickly. I scoot forward in the seat, lift my board, and prepare to get off
.
I’m eager to start tracking the girls, and I know it’s the most fun I’ll have on the mountain today.

I point as the yellow and black streak flies down the hill. “I’ll put my money on the yellow jacket. That chick can move.”

“Good luck catching her,” Tyler laughs as he jumps off the lift. “She’s already halfway down the mountain.” He points his pole at the little black and yellow dot entering a diverging path.

I want to catch her, but I’ve got to be careful.
If I wreck, I’m screwed. I have to snowboard smarter, not harder.
I make up my mind to take a little riskier, but shorter path.
As long as I can control my board, I’ll be fine.
“I know a shortcut. Veer left past this sign,” I direct Tyler.

“Got it.”

We fly down the first part of the run, tuck through some trees, and hop over a baby jump. I slow before I hit it, just to make sure I don’t lose my balance and risk re-injuring my arm. I cut across the terrain park and plop down at the end of the run. I know that sitting smack dab in the middle is pretty much the rudest thing I could do, but I’m going for the win.

“That was quick. Are you sure you want to sit there, though?” Tyler looks a little nervous as skiers and boarders alike swish past us like speeding cars on a freeway. “We should probably move off to the side.”

“And destroy my game? Not on your life.” I pat the ground beside me. “Here. Have a seat.”

“This is one of the busiest runs on Douglas. Someone’s going to plow right into us.”

I duck as I feel the wind of another passing racer. Then chuckling, I respond, “I’ll take my chances.”

No sooner does Tyler sit down beside me, than a sheet of snow pelts the back of my head. The force knocks me forward. I shiver as the powder seeps its way down the back of my neck, and into my jacket.

“Hey loser, move off the run. You’re going to kill somebody!” The feisty words come flying from behind me.

That strong, feminine voice. It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.

I twist back and forth, trying to turn my head enough that I can see who it is. It’s not working. Clearly, she’s standing in my blindspot.

“Just taking a break. Didn’t mean to get you all worked up, sweetie.” Then coughing into my glove I add, “Good skiers know how to turn.”

“Well,
good
skiers, don’t sit down in the middle of a run.” She pauses for a moment, as I feel her energy getting closer. “Oh, excuse me. I see you’re a boarder. That explains a lot.”

I’m surprised when I see the tight yellow and black suit
slowly pass where I’m sitting.
It’s her.
She doesn’t turn around, but her leisurely speed tells me that she’s up to something.

“If you want to sit around all day, you should go down to the lodge.” She pauses. “You know, come to think of it, I hear they have free babysitting down there. It frees up the mountain for all of us big kids who actually like to ski.”
So there’s the little fireball that just pummeled me with snow.

“Well, get a load of you.” I study the pint sized princess in front of me. “You’re not so big, yourself. Actually, I was thinking you look a little like Yoda.” I chuckle.
Who is this shrimpy know-it-all, hiding behind all that black and yellow?

Watching her slow to a stop and bend over in front of me, piques my curiosity. I’m intrigued as she drops her poles, and digs around on the ground like a kid in a sandbox. She
is one odd character. What is she doing?
In one swift streak, I watch as she spins toward me. Before I can comprehend the movement, I’m blinded by white powder. A huge snowball makes a thud, as it splatters against my goggles, completely blocking my vision. “Eat my snowball, you big, hairy wookiee!”

I love how she’s so wittily turned
Star Wars
into
Snowball Wars
. But forget about all that.
I know that voice. Who is that girl?

By the time I wipe all the snow from my goggles, and get them defogged, the girl is nowhere in sight.
Another disappearing act. Damn her.

“That was rough.” Tyler laughs.
“How are my odds looking now?”

I can’t help but laugh and sock Tyler in the shoulder. “No one said this game is over. I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Well, while you figure out your next move, I’d better get down to the team for warm ups. Coach Rico will pull me from the race if I’m late. I’m sure he’ll go easy on you though, especially if I tell him you just got your ass beat by a little girl.”

I shake my head, as we stand up, “She’s not just a little girl. She’s like a Jedi Master. And at least I got her attention. I didn’t see any of your shiny, little suits coming after you at all.”

“The day’s still young, Woodley. Let’s go.”

Surprisingly, we’re not too late getting back to the team area. Most of the racers are in position, and the rest of us are hanging out ready to assist where needed. I’ve never done this before, so I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Thankfully, I get a little one-on-one tutoring session. “I’m going to walk you up to your spot so you can see where you’re flagging.” Coach guides me up the hill. “It’s giant slalom today, so if they miss a gate or go out of bounds, you know what to do, right?”

“Got it covered.” I feel like such an idiot for not being able to compete. I’m the only guy not wearing numbers, and I stand out like a sore thumb.

“Skiers are up first. I know you’re still learning, so I’m going to pair you with Tyler til boarders are up. That okay with you?”

“Sounds good. I appreciate the help.” I fake a smile.
This is lame.
I can’t help but feel humiliated by my newbie status. I’m used to being a starter, not a rookie.
I wonder how my basketball team is doing today.
This coddling stuff is hard to get used to.

A voice rattles over Coach’s radio. “Okay, sounds like they’re ready to roll up at the start. Here you go.”

The announcer comes over the speaker, announcing the first skier. The radio’s sound is muffled, but I can make out that it’s a Mammoth skier.
She’ll probably kick butt.
Not thirty seconds after I hear the buzzer, swishing skis fly by me.
Looking good.

A couple minutes later. I hear the swishing again, and the hitting of gates. “Shiny, blue … one of my ladies,” Tyler raises his eyebrows and subtly waves as she flies past.

“Looked a little shaky on the turn. Seemed like she caught a bit of an edge.” I mutter to Tyler.

Skier number three comes down. Again, when she nears our gate, she bobbles a bit, but catches her balance.

I hear chatter on the walkie talkies. “Looks like the girls are having a bit of trouble around Gate 13.”

I survey the ground to see if there’s anything noticeable that may be causing the trouble. “Looks okay to me,” I say to Tyler, just as skier four runs over the top of the gate, and tumbles down the hill. I grab her skis and take them to her. I hate that I’m laughing, but it’s this nervous thing I have.

“Not funny, jerk.”

“Sorry,” I hand her the skis. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I swear.”

“Whatever.” She clips into her bindings and finishes her run.

I stand by and listen to several more minutes of swishing of skis and slapping of gates, before I spot her. The yellow jacket.

She flies around the gates, effortlessly.
She’s got to be going at least 50 mph. Nice cross-blocking. This girl can ski.
And she’s pouring it on, in and out, weaving beautifully, until … she isn’t. In that unexpected moment, time seems to stand still. I watch her ski clip the gate in front of me. Silently, I wish her a smooth recovery, but it just doesn’t happen. Arms flailing, skis quivering, body squirming, I watch as her wide, brown eyes … SLAM right into me!

I’m down on the ground, lying flat on my back, gasping for breath, wheezing, desperate to pull in air. I feel like I was just run over by a three hundred pound lineman.
Am I at football practice? What just happened?
My chest feels crushed.
My arm. My God, is my arm still there?
I try to reach around to feel for my arm, but I can’t get to it. There’s something in the way. Something on top of me. I open my eyes to get a look at my barrier, and find an unexpected surprise weighing me down.

There, looking down at me are big, round, twinkling, brown eyes.
Hold up. I’ve seen these eyes before
. I squint harder, trying to make out the face above mine. Curly, brown hair. Flawless, mocha skin. Suited up in yellow and black. Yellow jacket … NO… Bumblebee. With the recognition of her face, I feel the electricity spike through my fingertips.
Hell no. She skis for Mount Shasta?
My cheeks burn with heat, and an uncontrollable grin overtakes my lips. “Tangles?” I laugh out.

“What the hell are you talking about? Tangles? Get your arm off of me!” She looks around, patting at the ground. “Where are my skis? Where’s my other pole?”

“Calm down a second. There’s no rush. I’m pretty sure you’re already DQ’d after that wreck.”

“You don’t need to rub it in.” She pushes against my chest.

“Take it easy. Take it easy,” I wince, still trying to catch my breath.

“Oh, sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She rolls to the side, trying to take some of her weight off of me. “I’m just pissed. I’ve been trying to beat Kenzie for three years, and I almost had it this time.”

“It’s all good, Tangles,” I grunt. “Glad I could attend your yard sale,” I half chuckle, half cough.

My laugh dies off with her taunting glare. Then gradually, the crinkling around her eyes begins to soften. She’s looking at me strangely. It reminds me of that stupid movie my sister loves. The one with that Channing guy. Something about a wedding or something. She was in a coma and couldn’t remember she was married to him.
Then it dawns on me.
She doesn’t remember who I am
. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”