Page 37 of Fake It 'til You Make It

‘Is this a hustle to get me to clean tomorrow?’

‘Let’s see, shall we?’

I can’t see his face because the screen has now been taken over by the slalom hill and virtual Mike.

Three, two, one, the screen flashes. And he’s off!

He leans right but runs straight into the first slalom pole. He leans left and makes it around the next one, then the next. He crashes into the fourth. He misses the rock I flew over. Thisisa hustle. Then he wallops right into the next slalom pole and falls into the snow, rolling like a sausage through the next pole until he comes to a stop.

Now it’s my turn to laugh.

‘Definitely not a hustle.’

‘I made it further than you,’ he says petulantly. Words which match the look on his face as he appears on screen, the real him, wearing his VR eye mask.

‘Not this time,’ I tell him as I reset for the next run.

I’ve got it this time. I know how fast the game is and I’m just going to treat it like January on the slopes in Banff. I clear my head of everything except the digital course and my posture on my imaginary board.

Three. Two. One.

I lean right.Yes!

Left.Yes!

Right.Swish. Left.Swish. Round the rock.Come on!

One, three, four quick succession, slalom poles. There’s a ramp. I take a deep breath (needless, since the game is supposed to be fun and all), then bend my knees, looking down to the board and watching my character pick up speed on the screen.

I take flight, I’m in the air and I momentarily see myself on the slopes at home. The sun in the sky, wind in my face. I’m flying, free.

Leaning forward, I take hold of the front of my board. I’m going in for a 1080.

Using the virtual hand pieces, I rotate to the side and virtual me turns 360. Keep going, VR me! Imaginary Abbey turns through another 360. That’s 720! I keep my hands twisting to the side, and I clear another 270 degrees.

It’s not quite 1080, so I land facing the side, but with a quick correction, I’m heading back down the hill, avoiding a tree, missing pop-up rocks and making my way through another three slalom poles. Down the slope, the finish line appears. Real me leans forward and virtual me picks up speed, smashing through the finish line.

Both me and virtual Abbey are holding up our arms, squealing with delight.

The screen view through my headset changes so that I can see Mike, who I think is looking ever so slightly impressed, but it’s hard to tell with his headset on, and for sure his expression is laced with stubborn huffiness too, as he quickly moves the cursor to instigate his next turn at the game.

‘Who’s hustling who now?’ he asks.

Three, two, one. He makes the first pole, the second pole. He avoids the rocks.

He’s going well.

Clearly he isn’t going to take the side route and avoid the jump, not when I took the ski ramp.

I see virtual Mike, leaning into his board, picking up speed on the down slope. Then he’s on the ramp and he’s in flight.

Imaginary Mike grips the front of his board. He’s going to try a 1080. His desperation to beat me is hilarious and, unexpectedly, since I would usually shy away from competition and conflict, real Abbey is desperate to see real Mike and his arrogance fail.

He turns through 360. Through 720.

But oh!He’s lost speed.

He lands after a 900 degree turn and he’s facing backward down the slope.

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