Page 102 of Damaged

“What are you doing here?” I ask. I’m a little mad he was witness to my clumsiness.

“This is my slope.” He nods backwards. “When I was going down, I saw a guy do the exact same thing you did right here. So I decided to wait for you to get caught.”

“You were so sure I’d fall too?”

“Was I wrong?”

I raise my eyebrows.

“You fell right into my web, snowflake.” He hops over the wall in just his ski boots. I do not have the skill to get back into my skis on anything but flat ground, but James is skilled. He pulls me out of the snowbank.

“You were worried,” I say, realizing why he was waiting for me.

“Nah.”

“Yes, you were. That’s why you were waiting.”

He shrugs in an aloof,you caught mekind of way. “I had to make sure you got down the mountain in one piece.”

“You hate losing. You’re buying dinner now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and since you’re okay… you’re going to pay for that.” He backs up and starts balling up a fistful of snow.

“Oh no you don’t!” I bend over and scoop up some snow myself.

He hits me first in the ski jacket, but his toss is without much power.

“Are you babying me?” I say and throw mine with more power.

He ducks right into my shot, and it explodes on his shoulder.

“Maybe.” He starts to form another, but I’m slower. He throws at my hands and destroys the snowball I’m making, and snow goes shooting up my sleeves.

“Hey! That’s dirty!” I say and wring out my hands.

He takes a few quick steps towards me and takes me down in a light tackle back into the snowbank. “Sorry,” he says.

I take a fistful of snow and crumple it up over his head. He closes his eyes and grins as the flakes fall over his face.

“Okay,” James says, pulling his hat off to wipe the snow off. “We’re even.”

He’s wearing that oatmeal wool hat again. The one with the blue ring of fabric he had in Central Park.

“Why do you have that silly hat?”

“Is it that silly?”

“Yes. It could even be called a stupid hat.”

“You’re just jealous. It’s very warm.”

I can tell there’s something he’s not telling me. The hat looks old and wiry. I realize it must’ve belonged to someone else. It could’ve been Sabrina’s. The woman who took care of him and was murdered. I suddenly feel awful for making fun of it.

“Besides. It looks good on you.” James takes my hat off and puts his on my head. He pinches the corner, to adjust it just so, and then he comes in for a kiss.

His warm mouth is a haven in the cold. A woodstove. Bliss. We kiss for a minute until I grow hot and impatient with my snowpants.

James breaks the kiss and rolls so we’re both on our backs facing the sky. I look up the slope to see that we still have it all to ourselves before I nuzzle in close to his chest.

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