Page 42 of The Season
“Nah,” I say. “No friends on a powder day.”
Not that Tom is my friend.
The rest of the guys hum in agreement, and we start hiking up to the barrier fence and the out-of-bounds sign. Liam comes up beside me, meeting my eyes with his own and lowering his mask to flash me a rare grin. I shake my head, knocking my shoulder against his own. I wish I knew what he did to ditch Tom, but now isn’t the time to ask. I’m thankful for it though, almost enough to feel guilty for my earlier plans of retaliation.
Almost.
All thoughts of petty revenge fly from my head the moment we push through the gate separating the resort from the backcountry.
We’re at the highest peak of the resort. To our right is the neighboring canyon, protected by completely unskiable cliffs and slopes that are so steep, they practically scream avalanche warnings at you. To our left is the resort, but beyond that, just ahead, are endless expanses of untouched powder, the slope peppered by massive pines, the unmarked snow glittering in the early morning light.
I let out a satisfied sigh at the sight, my breath clouding in front of my face, and make my way along the ridgeline.
As much as I love teaching, this is what got me into skiing. This feeling—being up in the mountains, being away from all the people. Feeling the burn of cold air in your lungs when you hike at altitude, knowing that the pure exhilaration of making tracks through untouched powder awaits you.
“Fucking perfect,” I breathe, glancing back over my shoulder to make sure the rest of the group are keeping up with me.
Lily throws me a smile in return—a wide, unchecked smile that has her bruised cheeks pressing against her goggles. “Beautiful,” she says, her voice breathless with exertion. Her gaze drifts to the scenery around us, like she can’t quite decide what to look at.
I return her smile, but don’t reply. Mostly because hiking at this altitude is hard work, but also because I’m starting to feel a little bit guilty about using her as a way to get under Liam’s skin. Even if it didn’t really work.
It takes us about half an hour to get to the right spot—a sprawling run that stretches between clusters of pine, snaking between boulders and finally curving toward the base of the resort.
“This is it,” I say, the words thready as I struggle to draw in breath at over ten-thousand-feet altitude.
Lily comes up beside me, her shoulder pressing against my own, and I stretch one gloved hand out to the run below us, to where snow sparkles like millions of crystals, silently beckoning.
“You go between those trees there,” I tell her. “Then cut above that boulder and go left. If you try to cut left after the boulder, you won’t make it to the base of the resort, and you’ll have to hike out.” I give a mirthless chuckle. “I did that once, a few weeks ago. Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”
It took me at least three hours to hike back to the resort, wading through waist-deep powder and carrying my skis. My boots had been filled with ice by the time I made it out, the skin on my calves red and burnt with the start of frostbite.
The worst of it was that I’d missed the morning skiing, missed the safe window for hitting the backcountry, and had to spend the rest of the day moping around on groomed runs like a loser.
Liam had been there, of course, getting run after run of perfect powder while I trudged away in the mire by myself.
“Got it,” Lily says with a breathy laugh. “Turn before the boulder. Anything else I should know?”
I tap my chin, considering. “Maybe don’t go too far ahead?” I suggest finally. “Stick close to me or Liam if you can. But also try not to stop and wait for any of us either. And whatever you do, don’t take off your board.”
She shoots me a questioning glance, and with her goggles pulled up on her helmet, I’m close enough to see the gold and green flecks in her hazel eyes.
“If you take your board off, you’ll get stuck in the powder,” I explain, tilting my chin to the glittering run beneath us.
I know this from experience as well. The first time I came here, I made the mistake of thinking I could hike up to help Liam when he wiped out, only to end up getting stuck in armpit-deep snow. It took me thirty minutes to get my skis back on.
She purses her lips, her brow dipping as she eyes the slope warily.
“You’ll be fine,” I assure her, clapping her on the shoulder for good measure. It’s a weird gesture to make with her. I feel like I’ve just called herbroormateor some shit. It just doesn’t sit right.
“That’s a big drop,” Matty observes, coming up to stand on Lily’s other side. Unlike Lily, he’s not trying to catch his breath. In fact, the big guy barely seems winded at all.
He carefully shuffles as close to the lip of the cornice as possible, peering over it as if he’ll be able to see the bottom. “That… that must be at least six feet,” he rumbles, hurriedly shuffling away from the edge.
“Sounds about right,” I say with a shrug. “It’s a soft landing though.”
Not that you’d want to wipe out in such deep powder at the start of the run. Nothing worse than losing momentum and getting mired down.
“Sure. Okay…” Matty gives a nervous chuckle, his baby-blue eyes wide as he looks to Lily for reassurance.
