Page 36 of Fake It 'til You Make It

‘You’re on.’ He holds out his fist and I bump mine against it. ‘Give me five minutes to set us up.’

It’s only when I’m in the bathroom, staring into the mirror above the five-star, hotel-sized his and hers sinks, that I realize I’m smiling. For an obnoxious guy, he’s a decent distraction.

After washing my hands, I rub some life into my make-up free cheeks and lips, then head into the lounge, where Mike is waiting with two VR headsets.

This was a mistake. He’s tall and broad, and muscly and obviously good at sport. Fingers crossed the universe will shine down on this underdog.

‘Did you give yourself a little pep talk?’ Mike asks, holding up a headset and two hand pieces.

‘Like I need one,’ I tell him with confidence I do not feel. I’ve always been a loner when it comes to sports and working out. Coordination isn’t my forte.

The large-screen television nestled into the lounge wall unit is displaying a snowboarding game.

Mike holds out the hand pieces, then steps to me and places the headset over my eyes, adjusting the strap beneath my hair tie.

I can’t see him but I feel the size and heat of his body, his proximity overwhelming in a way that’s more welcome than claustrophobic. His scent is subtle but manly. Like he’s wearing a cologne he’s had on all day and it’s mixed with outdoors. It’s distinctive, and it’s all around me.

With my eyes covered and a handsome man pressed against me, I feel disoriented in the best way. I have momentarily expended with reality.

Suddenly unsteady on my feet, I reach out on reflex for the stability of his body. His torso is firm; it fills the sensitive skin of my bare hands, makes my fingertips fold into him.

‘You’re good to go.’ His voice seems to break, or do I imagine that because there’s a tightness in my own throat? ‘Let me set myself up.’

His heat is gone and I’m left looking into the depths of a snowy mountain range. I can see the hands of my virtual persona, covered in purple ski gloves. I look down and find virtual me peering down what looks like a slalom run. Poles and flags highlight a path to a distant finish line, dotted between protruding rocks and pine, spruce, aspen and fir trees.

Something happens on the screen and we’re switched into dual player mode, though it looks like we’ll be racing one at atime – only my player looks set to snowboard, with Mike’s an onlooker.

‘Is now a good time to tell you I’ve never done this?’ I ask.

‘You said you can board. There’ll be no novice or gender handicaps, Fluffy Boots.’

Grrrrr. I want to beat him so bad.

‘You need to move the cursor with your hand to start.’

I do as my instructor tells me and I’m counted down on screen – three, two, one. I’m off!

Leaning my body to the right, I narrowly miss a slalom pole. I shift left, right, left. Sugar, this is fast!

A rock. Where did that come from?

Oh no, oh no!

Virtual me flies straight over the rock. I’m in the air and I shouldn’t be. I reach down with my hand, as if to grab the front of my snowboard, but?—

‘Sugar and pies and berries!’ I hit smack into a pine tree.

The screen changes so that I can see real me, in my VR goggles, and real Mike, in his goggles. He’s folded forward, guffawing at my collision.

‘You say you’ve snowboarded before?’ He can barely draw breath.

‘Every winter and spring!’ I say, accidentally stomping my foot.

My words or my actions or the combination make Mike laugh harder.

‘Well, you show me how it’s done, ass-wipe!’

He’s still laughing but can at least now stand up straight. ‘Okay, let me see here. It’s been a long time since I’ve boarded and I’ve never done it through VR.’

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