Page 22 of First Echo

"Sounds like a death wish," Victoria commented, picking at her fruit salad. "Count me out."

"Same," Audrey agreed. "I'm thinking we stick to the blues. I didn't bring these cute new ski pants just to wipe out and spend the day covered in snow."

The conversation devolved into a friendly argument about which runs to tackle first, with everyone talking over each other, gesturing with toast and coffee cups. I found myself only half listening, my thoughts drifting back to Brooke and her unexplained absence.

"How's the roommate situation?" Sam asked quietly, as if reading my mind. "You and Brooke getting along any better?"

I shrugged, trying to appear casual. "It's fine. We're basically ignoring each other, which works for me."

"Except she ditched you this morning," Julian cut in, clearly eavesdropping. "Rude much?"

"It's not like we coordinated schedules," I said, feeling an odd impulse to defend Brooke, which made absolutely no sense. "She can do whatever she wants."

Julian raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you so chill about people blowing you off?"

"She didn't blow me off, Julian. We're not friends. We're just sharing a room."

Sam placed his hand over mine on the table, a small gesture of support that would normally have made me feel better. Today, though, it just reminded me of the weird, unsettled feeling that had taken root in my chest since last night's argument with Brooke.

"Well, I think it's weird," Victoria declared, apparently having been listening in as well. "Who gets up before seven on a school trip? That girl is just strange."

I didn't respond, but I silently disagreed. There was something almost admirable about Brooke's dedication, her willingness to wake up early to get what she wanted. She didn't seem to care what anyone thought of her, didn't adjust her behavior to fit in or be liked. I'd never had that kind of freedom.

After breakfast, we all headed back to our rooms to grab our gear before meeting at the lifts. The resort was coming alive now,with more and more people heading out to enjoy the perfect conditions. The sky was a brilliant blue, the kind that seems to exist only in the mountains, and the air was crisp but not bitterly cold. A perfect day for skiing.

As we approached the lift area, I noticed a small crowd gathered at the edge of the main run, all looking up at the mountain. Curious, I followed their gaze.

A lone figure was carving down the slope, a snowboarder moving with such fluid grace that it almost looked like dancing. Even from this distance, I could tell they were good—really good. They navigated the terrain with a confidence that seemed to come from years of practice, each turn precise, each movement deliberate yet effortless.

"Who is that?" Sam asked, shielding his eyes from the sun to get a better look.

"No idea," Julian replied, sounding genuinely impressed. "But they're killing it."

The snowboarder was getting closer now, picking up speed as they approached the final stretch. There was something familiar about the way they moved, something that tugged at my memory. And then, as they neared the bottom of the run, I recognized her.

Brooke.

Of course it was Brooke. Little Miss Perfect, excelling at yet another thing I didn't know she could do. A strange mix of emotions washed over me—surprise, admiration, and something else, something sharper and less flattering. Was it jealousy? The idea was so absurd I almost laughed out loud. Me, jealous of Brooke Winters? Impossible.

And yet, watching her carve her way down that mountain, completely in her element, I couldn't deny the twinge of something unpleasant in my stomach. It wasn't that I wanted to be her—I would never want that. But there was something aboutthe way everyone was watching her, admiring her, that made me feel... invisible. And I wasn't used to being invisible.

"Wait, is that your roommate?" Victoria asked, her voice pitching higher with surprise. "Since when is she a snowboarding prodigy?"

"I had no idea," I murmured, watching as Brooke came to a graceful stop near the lift line, unclipping one foot from her board with practiced ease. She didn't look in our direction, but somehow I got the feeling she knew we were watching.

"Well, damn," Julian said, letting out a low whistle. "Quiet girl's got skills. Who would've thought?"

"It's not that impressive," I heard myself saying, though even I didn't believe it. "Snowboarding's not that hard."

Sam glanced at me, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "Says the girl who's never set foot on a snowboard."

"How hard can it be?" I challenged, a plan already forming in my mind. "If she can do it, I definitely can."

The words were out before I'd fully thought them through, but once they were hanging in the air, I couldn't take them back. And I didn't want to. Suddenly, nothing seemed more important than proving I could do whatever Brooke could do—and do it better.

"Mads, I don't think that's a good idea," Sam said, his brow furrowing with concern. "Snowboarding has a pretty steep learning curve. It takes time to get the hang of it."

"I'm a quick learner," I insisted, already scanning the rental shop for where I could swap my skis for a snowboard. "Besides, don't you think it'll be fun to try something new?"

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