Page 11 of See You Next Winter
“I know, and I’ll tell them I’m sorry, OK?”
“You really can’t get away?”
“No, this film is really behind schedule. There’s no shooting over the holidays, but sound mixing can go ahead. I can't be the reason it gets delayed any longer.”
She sighs and sips her tea. “OK, I get it. I’ll probably be the same once I qualify. I’m just sad about it, that’s all. It won’t be the same without you.”
“I’ll be there next year, I promise.”
“What about Kayla?” she says.
“What about her?”
“Ryan!” she scolds, and I feelexactly as ashamed as I should. This is a shitty move on my part, but I know it's the right call.
“Can you tell her I’m sorry and I’ll see her next winter?”
“No way. You can tell her yourself,” Hannah says, hanging up before I can admit I don't even have a way to contact Kayla.
Chapter 8
Ryan
Crowds gather at thebottom of theExpress Telecabineach morning, and it’s everyone for themselves as they queue for lift passes, lessons, and a spot on the first ascent. This lift is popular for good reason. It's the quickest way to the top of the mountain where you can access slopes of all levels and work your way into the other valleys.
Kayla had already left her apartment by the time I knocked with fresh pastries, and if I don’t find her here, then I’ll have broken my promise.
I wasn’t sure how my return would make her feel, and last night was hot and confusing. We haven’t lost our spark after all these years apart, and when I found out she has her own place, I thought she’d let me stay the night and take advantage of uninterrupted time together. Clearly, I’ve got some work to do to make it up to her.
Finally, I spot her in the crowd, her bright pink helmet like a beacon in a sea of dark ones.
“Kayla!” I call out, weaving my way, ducking to avoid a head injury from those who carry their skis horizontally. “Excusez-moi, excusez-moi.”
She says something to the group she’s with, and storms towards me. “What are you doing here?”
“I said I’d see you before your lessons. I brought you breakfast.”
“I ate hours ago,” she says, but takes the paper bag anyway, tugging her rucksack round to one side and shoving it inside. “I’m with clients.”
“Can you meet for lunch? We’re going to The Marmot.”
In France, families celebrate Christmas on December twenty-fourth, but we have plenty of our own family traditions. On the twenty-third we have lunch atThe Marmot, the highest restaurant on the mountain. Steaming, glutenous bowls of French onion soup followed by whatever the daily special is. Hannah and I are partial to a slice of mandarin cheesecake, too.
Afterwards, we race each other home, then Hannah and Dad do the Christmas food shop while Mum and I chill in the hot tub or watch a movie. Kayla has always been a welcome addition to our family festivities, and it’s cool to have Cam with us, too.
“I’ll be in the other valley.”
“Well, what about later?”
“My parents are arriving today.”
“Then when can I see you?” I grab the sleeve of her ski jacket, and she swats my hand away, lowering her voice.
“I’ll see you when I see you, Ryan. You can’t expect me to drop everything just because you showed up and you’re horny.”
Fuck.
That’s exactly how this looks, and I hate myself for it.
