Page 21 of First Echo

I was heading up for another run, and they were standing around chatting. I felt a small, petty sense of satisfaction at that. While they were just starting their day, I'd already been carving through fresh powder all morning.

Something strange happened during my next run. As I carved my way down the mountain, about halfway through the descent, I noticed that I had attracted an audience. A small cluster of people had gathered along the edge of the run, pointing and watching as I approached. I was the only one on this particular section of the slope at the moment, and for some reason, I had become a spectacle.

Under normal circumstances, this would have horrified me. I hated being the center of attention—it was why I preferred to blend into the background at school, to go unnoticed in the classroom except when I knew the answer to a particularly difficult question. Invisibility was my comfort zone.

But here, on the mountain? It felt... different.

This was my domain, my element. I wasn't just some quiet girl who sat alone at lunch or spent her weekends reading. I was a snowboarder, and a damn good one at that. For once, people were seeing a part of me I was actually proud to show.

So instead of shrinking under their gaze, I embraced it. I laid into my turns more dramatically, picked up more speed, added in a little flair here and there—nothing too showy, just enough to demonstrate that I knew what I was doing.

As I drew closer to the bottom, I could make out individual faces in the small crowd. There were some younger kids from our school looking impressed, a few adults nodding in appreciation of my technique, and right in the center, Madeline and her friends. Julian was saying something to Sam, who was watching me with raised eyebrows. Victoria and Audrey looked annoyed, probably because someone else was getting attention.

And Madeline? Her expression was harder to read. She seemed almost... conflicted? Maybe even a little impressed? The thought sent an unexpected thrill through me.

Why did I care what Madeline thought? I didn't—I told myself I didn't. And yet, as I approached the final stretch, I found myself pushing harder, carving deeper, putting on my best performance.

The moment passed quickly. I reached the bottom, slowed to a stop well away from the crowd, and unclipped one foot to skate toward the lift line. The small audience dispersed, returning to their own activities. I caught one last glimpse of Madeline, her blue eyes still following me, before she turned back to Sam and said something that made him laugh.

I felt a strange mixture of emotions as I headed back to the lift—pride in my abilities, satisfaction at having momentarily claimed the spotlight, and an annoying little twinge of something that felt dangerously close to caring what Madeline Hayes thought of me.

That last bit had to go. I refused to give her that kind of power. I was here for the mountain, for the snow, for the perfect solitude of carving my own path. Not for the approval ofsomeone who thought reading books was boring and cared more about appearances than substance.

As I settled into the lift chair for another ascent, I made myself a promise: I wouldn't look for Madeline again. I wouldn't wonder what she thought. I would focus on the snow, the sky, the sensation of flying down the mountain—all the things that brought me joy long before Madeline Hayes entered my life, and all the things that would continue to bring me joy long after she inevitably exited it.

The lift carried me higher, and with each foot of elevation, I felt a little more like myself again—Brooke Winters, snowboarder, reader, daughter of a woman who taught me to love the mountains. Not Brooke Winters, chemistry tutor, roommate of Madeline Hayes, girl who sometimes cared too much about things she shouldn't.

As I reached the top and prepared for another run, I took a deep breath of the clear mountain air. This was my day, my mountain, my moment. And I wasn't going to let thoughts of Madeline Hayes steal even one more second of it from me.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MADELINE

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the empty bed across from mine. Brooke was gone, her covers already neatly made, like she'd never been there at all. For a second, panic shot through me—had I overslept again? I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen. 7:15 AM. Not only had I not overslept, I'd actually woken up before my alarm.

Which meant Brooke had left even earlier. Who does that? Who voluntarily gets up at the crack of dawn on a ski trip?

I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face, an inexplicable annoyance settling over me. It felt rude somehow, her disappearing without a word. Though honestly, after our argument last night, I couldn't exactly blame her for not wanting to be around me.

Still, she could have at least let me know where she was going. Not that I cared, obviously. It was just weird to wake up to an empty room.

I took my time getting ready, enjoying the rare luxury of having the bathroom all to myself. I spent extra time on my makeup, carefully applying it to make it look effortless. Like I just naturally woke up with perfectly flushed cheeks and subtly defined eyes. I chose my ski outfit with similar precision—a pale blue jacket with white fur trim that made my eyes pop, matching pants that fit perfectly. If I was going to hit the slopes, I was going to look good doing it.

The dining hall was bustling when I arrived, filled with the eager chatter of students excited for a day on the mountain. I scanned the room automatically, looking for Brooke, but she wasn't there either. Where had she disappeared to so early?

Victoria waved me over to the table where she sat with the usual crowd. She'd apparently forgiven me for the roommate betrayal, or at least decided to temporarily overlook it.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Julian teased as I slid into the seat beside Sam. "Thought you might sleep through the entire trip."

"It's barely eight," I replied, rolling my eyes. "And I'm here before any of you hit the slopes, so I'd say I'm doing pretty well."

Sam leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. "You look amazing," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," I said automatically, though that wasn't entirely true. I'd lain awake for a while after our argument, replaying Brooke's words in my head, wondering if her mother really had died. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I'd crossed a line, mocking something that was genuinely important to her. But that was too complicated to get into with Sam, especially with everyone else listening, so I just smiled and changed the subject. "What's our plan for today?"

"The usual runs first," Sam said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Then maybe try that double black Julian's been talking about."

Julian nodded enthusiastically. "It's supposed to be insane. Thirty-five-degree pitch, narrow as hell, trees everywhere."

---