Page 26 of First Echo

The ride up was surprisingly companionable, our earlier hostility seemingly forgotten in the wake of shared laughter and snow-covered misadventures. We talked about snowboarding, about the best runs on the mountain, about the perfect conditions. Normal conversation, the kind that friends might have. The thought was as strange as it was unexpected.

When we reached the top, however, the bubble burst. Waiting near the unloading area was Madeline's usual crowd—Sam, Julian, Victoria, and the others. They looked surprised to see us together, expressions ranging from confusion to amusement to blatant disapproval.

Julian was the first to approach, his eyes moving between me and Madeline with obvious interest. "Well, well, if it isn't the snowboarding superstar," he said, his gaze fixed on me in a way that made me instantly uncomfortable. "Planning to give us all private lessons, or is my sister the only one who gets special treatment?"

There was something in his tone that made the comment feel less like friendly banter and more like an insinuation. I shifted awkwardly, suddenly very aware of how Madeline and I must look—flushed and disheveled from our snowball fight, clearly having spent the last hour enjoying each other's company.

"Just being a good Samaritan," I replied coolly, trying to maintain my composure. "Someone had to make sure she didn't break her neck."

Julian's smile didn't reach his eyes. "How heroic of you. But we can take it from here." He turned to Madeline. "Sam's been looking everywhere for you. Thought you might have actually killed yourself trying to snowboard."

Madeline glanced at Sam, who did indeed look relieved to see her in one piece, then back at me. There was a strange hesitation in her expression, like she wasn't quite sure what to do or say.

"I'm fine," she said finally, her voice taking on that familiar dismissive tone that had been absent during our time together. "Brooke was just showing me the basics. Turns out snowboarding isn't that hard after all."

"Not when you have such a dedicated teacher," Julian commented, his voice dripping with innuendo. He stepped closer to me, his smile turning into something that made my skin crawl. "Maybe you could teach me next? I bet you're really good with your hands."

Victoria snickered at this, while Audrey looked vaguely embarrassed. Sam frowned slightly but said nothing, seemingly unwilling to contradict his best friend.

I felt my face heat with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. This was exactly why I preferred to keep to myself—to avoid people like Julian Hayes and his particular brand of entitled arrogance.

Madeline shot her brother a look that could have frozen lava. "Shut up, Julian," she said sharply.

"No, it's fine," I replied coolly, looking Julian up and down with deliberate skepticism. "I only teach people who have potential. And somehow I doubt you'd be able to focus on the lesson, given how much effort it must take just to keep that oversized head of yours upright."

Victoria's snicker cut off abruptly, and Julian's smug expression faltered. Even Sam seemed to be fighting back a smile. Madeline's expression shifted slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching with what looked suspiciously like suppressed amusement.

Julian raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just making conversation." But I could tell by the slight flush on his face that my comment had hit its mark.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. I shifted my weight, eager to escape the suddenly tense atmosphere. "I think I'm going to take another run," I said, already edging away from them.

My eyes met Madeline's briefly, and something passed between us—an unspoken acknowledgment, perhaps, of the strange interlude we'd shared and the return to reality that had so abruptly followed. There was a flicker of something in her gaze that looked almost like regret, but it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

Without another word, I pushed off, eager to put as much distance as possible between myself and the uncomfortable scene. As I carved down the mountain, I tried to recapture the carefree feeling I'd had earlier, but it was elusive now, tainted by Julian's comments and the sudden reminder of where Madeline and I stood in the social hierarchy.

I didn't see Madeline again for the rest of the day. I continued riding until my legs began to feel heavy with fatigue. Despite wanting to squeeze in a few more runs, I knew better than to push myself too far. Snowboarding while tired was a recipe for injury—my mom had drilled that into me from day one. "The mountain will always be there tomorrow," she used to say, "but only if you're in one piece to enjoy it."

So when the first signs of exhaustion hit, I reluctantly called it a day and headed back to the resort, my body tired but my mind still frustratingly active.

Back in our room, I took a long, hot shower, letting the water soothe my sore muscles and wash away the remnants of the day. Then I changed into comfortable clothes, settled onto my bed,and pulled out my book—the same one Madeline had mocked the night before.

The familiar words were comforting, pulling me into a world far removed from the complexities of real life. I was so absorbed that I barely registered the passage of time until the door opened and Madeline walked in.

She looked tired but content, her cheeks still flushed from the cold, her hair slightly damp at the edges from melted snow. Without a word, she dropped her gear by the door and flopped onto her bed with a deep sigh.

The easy camaraderie we'd found on the mountain seemed to have evaporated. I kept my eyes on my book, though I found myself reading the same paragraph over and over, unable to focus with her presence so tangible in the room.

The afternoon light was beginning to fade outside our window, casting long shadows across the room. I glanced up from my book as Madeline's eyes began to close.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MADELINE

Iwas so exhausted. The day's snowboarding lessons with Brooke followed by hours with my friends had completely drained me. My muscles ached in places I didn't even know could ache. As soon as I got back to the room, I dropped my gear by the door and collapsed onto my bed with a deep sigh, feeling the tension begin to seep out of my body.

"Please don't fall asleep again," Brooke said sarcastically, barely glancing up from her book. "I'd rather not have to wake you for dinner and deal with the wrath that follows."

"I'm not sleeping," I mumbled, though my heavy eyelids were already threatening to betray me. "Just resting my eyes."

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