Page 11 of Can I Tell You Something?
I hang back behind my brother and Cameron as we walk to the base station, ready to board the bubble lift that will carry us part way up the mountain. We’ve missed the First Lift crew, the obsessives who are up and queuing to ride as soon as the network of ski-lifts creaks to life each morning. Ryan and I have always been Team Last Lift, often pleading with the lift operators to let us go up just one more time as the winter sun fades and the mountain turns pinky purple.
Still, there are plenty of people around, and Ryan points out various bars and shops along the way before taking Cameron into the ticket office for their ski-passes. I already pre-loaded online, so I hang back by the giant piste map and plot an appropriate route for a total beginner.
Mum wasn’t just being kind when she offered up my teaching services. After finishing my A-Levels I almost qualified as a ski instructor. My first boyfriend and I planned to take a gap year and come out here and teach for the winter, but I dropped out of our training course when I caught him with his hands up the top of one of the other students.
The gap year was cancelled, I took up the place I’d been offered at university, and thankfully haven’t thought about him much since. Unfortunately, that was just the start of the tragic dating history that has led to me ignoring most of the men I meet.
Anyway, I’ve been far too busy fantasising about another man. One who I’m unfortunately about to spend the next ten minutes trapped in a metal box with.
When they reappear, I show Cameron how to scan his pass, and we push through the turnstiles and follow the arrows through the base station to wait our turn.
“It comes in really fast, but then it slows right down to let us board,” Ryan says, reassuring Cameron, who I now realise is entirely out of his comfort zone.
Everything about skiing is weird if you haven’t done it before; heavy robot boots, carrying cumbersome skis and poles, mountain safety and the skiers’ code of conduct. Not to mention feeling boiling under all those layers one minute, then the drop in temperature hitting you once we’re out of the sun.
The weather is different from one day to the next in this part of the Alps, but today we’ve gotten lucky. Fresh snow fell overnight, and now it’s a sunny day. I should have reminded him about sunscreen before we left.
“What’s new with you, Sis?” Ryan asks once the doors close and we trundle out of the base station on a sharp assent of the mountainside.
“Not much,” I shrug, not wanting to meet his eye.
“Come on, usually I can’t get you to shut up. What’s going on with you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is work kicking your ass?”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“You dating anyone?” he pries, and I roll my eyes. I definitely don’t want to talk about this in front of Mac, sorry, Cameron.
Ryan and I have never kept secrets from each other, and though he knows I typically make smart choices, he’s been witness to my extremely bad choices and the resulting crappy break-ups. He’s protective in a way that I appreciate, a person to confide in without being overbearing. Telling him I’m not dating right now because nobody can top his best friend is clearly not an option.
“I find it hard to believe you haven’t been snapped up,” Cameron says, grunting as Ryan delivers an elbow to his ribs.
“Quit hitting on my sister.”
“I’m not, man. I’m just saying she seems really nice.” He gestures casually towards me and I stare out of the window and keep my mouth shut for the rest of the ride.
Chapter 9
Hannah
Itturnsoutthisbeach boy is a great student. We’ve spent a couple of hours taking repeated runs on a beginner slope and he’s listened well, followed all my instructions, and hasn’t fallen once.
Fortunately for me, he also hasn’t mentioned the shitshow that went down last night. Honestly, I’m so happy to be back on my skis in these beautiful mountains, it’s hard to worry about it for long.
“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
“I swear!” he says, following my tracks as I slalom slowly from one side of the beginner run to the other.
“You’re a great teacher.”
“You’re a natural,” I call back over my shoulder. “You’ll be riding double black runs before you know it.”
We come to a stop at the bottom of the valley where several pistes converge at the best pizza place in the area. It’s a little early for lunch, but my stomach is rumbling, clearly not used to this much exercise in the morning.
“You want to grab a crepe and have a quick break?”
