by Mari Mancusi
She popped up from the bed and grabbed her Skelanimals backpack, heading for the door. “Come on,” she urged. “If you won’t do it for me, then do it for Shaun and Jamie. Show them they ain’t got nothing on you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Caitlin was right; by avoiding Olivia and her Boarder Barbies, I was only letting them win. And hadn’t I already determined I’d never let them win again? Not that today’s fiasco was a promising start, but still.
So I told Caitlin to go on without me, I’d meet her there. Then I forced myself out of bed, took a quick shower, and changed into party clothes, slipping snowboard boots on my feet in case the forecasted blizzard was still on its way. I headed downstairs and across campus to the student rec center, where the ice cream social was being held.
Mountain Academy was famous for its ice cream socials. They purchased the ice cream from a farm down the hill that made it by hand using milk from their own cows. So it was always super fresh and extra creamy. And that was only the beginning of the awesome. There was also the infamous toppings bar, jam-packed with every possible ice cream topping you could think of: hot fudge, marshmallow, butterscotch, M&M’s, gummy bears, Oreos—you name it, they had it. And the best part? You got to serve yourself, meaning you could pile an inhuman amount of whipped cream on top—a virtual mountain of the sweet stuff—and no one said a word to stop you.
The snow had just started to come down as I made my way across campus. Light, fluffy flakes gently dusting my jacket. According to my Weather.com app, the true blizzard wouldn’t start till around midnight. But when it did, it was meant to be a mean one—a real nor’easter. Hopefully, we wouldn’t lose power in the dorms. That was always a pain, trying to study by candlelight.
Though at the moment, studying was the least of my problems. I reached the rec center, realizing my hands were shaking like crazy. As I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob and prepared to go inside, I couldn’t help but imagine how the next moments would play out. In my imagination I’d step through the doors. The music would screech to a halt. Everyone would turn and stare. Then, after a moment of shocked silence, the whispers and giggles would erupt like a volcano, flooding the hall and forcing me to flee the scene, retreating back to my dorm room in shame. At least that’s how this kind of thing usually played out in the movies.
“What do you think you’re doing, young lady?”
I dropped my hand from the door, whirling around guiltily, though, of course, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. My eyes fell upon none other than Olivia’s father, Cy Masters, owner of Green Mountain Resort, fast on approach, a furious look on his jowly face. I took a hesitant step back as he lumbered past, seeming not even to notice me as he passed the rec center, his eyes locked on something ahead.
Make that someone. As I peered around the corner, I recognized Olivia standing over by one of the empty ski racks, dressed in an absurdly huge white fur coat and eating a chocolate bar. I watched as she looked up to see her father, startled, then dropped the candy immediately, as if it were a hot potato.
“Oh, hi, Daddy,” she chirped nervously, her trademark saccharine-sweet voice cracking at the edges. “I didn’t know you were on campus tonight. What a great surprise.”
Her father didn’t answer, reaching down to pick up the discarded candy bar and holding it up for observation. He raised a bushy eyebrow at his daughter, and I almost laughed at the expression on Olivia’s face. So busted!
“It’s not mine!” she protested, her voice rising into a panicked squeak. “I was just holding it for a friend.”
Her father walked over to a nearby trash can and discarded the bar. “How many times have we talked about this, Olivia?” he demanded. “An athlete treats her body as a temple. You keep filling it with junk food and your performance will continue to suffer. You’re already third to last on the team. You want to get cut altogether?”
Olivia’s face crumbled. “You know I’m doing the best I can.”
But her father wasn’t finished. “To think I was under the impression that this would be our year. Our chance to pull ahead, with Alexis Miller out of the running. But no, you’re too busy hanging out with your friends and poisoning your body with processed food to take advantage of this opportunity.” He shook his head. “And now Alexis is back. And any chance you had to slip ahead is over.”
Olivia’s face twisted into a scowl at the mention of my name. “Please,” she spit out, regaining some of her bravado. “You should have seen her on the slopes today. I hardly think she’ll be a threat.”
“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” her father shot back. “You hardly think! Alexis Miller is the best snowboarder at Mountain Academy—maybe the best in the world, in her age group. If you underestimate her for even a second, you’ll find yourself in second place for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?”
“No, Dad, but—”
He shook his head, looking tired and defeated. “What would your mom say if she could see you now?”
Olivia’s face went stark white, her words seemingly stolen from her lips. For a moment they just stared at one another. Then her father humphed, as if he’d proven some point, before turning and barreling off, his heavy boots kicking up quite a snowstorm in their wake.
Olivia watched him go, her face a tangle of emotions. Then she swiped her wet cheek with the sleeve of her fur coat and started plodding toward the rec hall. I tried to duck away, but I was too slow. Her eyes fell upon me, a look of horror flashing across her face before she could mask it. She knew I’d heard everything. She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to change her mind.
“I’m sorry,” I found myself saying, at a loss for anything else.
But Olivia just lifted her chin up high and pushed her way past me into the rec center, not dignifying me with a response.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I considered heading back to the dorm. After my encounter with Olivia, the last thing I felt like was ice cream and dancing. But I’d promised Caitlin, and I knew she’d be beyond annoyed if I let Olivia get to me again. So, after giving my archnemesis enough time to make a proper entrance, I slipped into the rec center, ready for anything.
To my relief, the music stayed pumping, the student body kept dancing and eating—as if the talk of the school hadn’t just entered the building. In fact, the few people who did seem to notice my arrival didn’t show anything more than the usual interest. Go figure.
I scanned the dance floor for my roommate, wanting to tell her about my run-in with Olivia. But first I spotted Cam, arm in arm with some black-haired girl in a cranberry-colored dress. Tera, I guessed. My heart squeezed a little as I quickly turned away. No big deal, I reminded myself. It just wasn’t meant to be.
Still, could this day get any worse?
It was then my eyes fell upon a more welcome sight. Becca, standing alone over by the sundae bar, without a single Boarder Barbie in tow. Finally! The perfect opportunity to make my move.
Heart pounding in my chest, I approached, not sure at all what I was going to say to her once I got there. Should I make some kind of icebreaking joke? An emotional plea? Or how about a flat-out question? Like, for example, how on earth did “Darth Olivia” manage to turn my best friend and ultimate Jedi warrior to the Dark Side practically overnight?
Any or all of those strategies might have worked, except for the fact that when I did finally reach my friend, my tongue chose to stop operating altogether. Instead, I found myself standing there like an idiot, unable to form even the least coherent sentence. In return, Becca stared back at me with an unreadable expression on her face, also seeming at a loss for words. As we faced off in silence, I couldn’t help but notice her outfit. A pink, frilly knee-length dress. Seriously, you could have bet me a million dollars and I would have sworn up and down that my tomboy friend would not have been caught dead in such a girly ensemble.
But times, they were a-changin’.
“Um, hey,” I finally managed to spit ou
t after what seemed an eternity. Not exactly the most eloquent of openings, but it was the best I could muster under pressure.
“Um, hey,” she replied. “I heard you were, um, back.”
You did? I wanted to scream. Then why didn’t you come talk to me at lunch? Why didn’t you come visit me in the dorm?
“Yeah,” I said instead. “I, uh, arrived this morning.”
We lapsed into more awkward silence as the DJ added a Beyoncé tune to the mix. Gah! Why was this so hard? This was my bestest friend in the entire world. The girl I’d shared everything with since I was seven years old. The girl I’d giggled with under the covers during sleepovers in my dad’s cabin, long after lights-out. The one I’d told secrets to that I’d never told another living soul. Becca probably knew me better than I knew myself. So why did she suddenly feel like a complete stranger?
It was then that I noticed her fingers digging into her sundae bowl so hard, I was half afraid she’d poke through the Styrofoam. It was like she wanted to talk to me, but something was holding her back.
I decided to try another tactic. “So I hear congratulations are in order,” I said, giving her a hesitant smile. “You made the snowboard cross team? And new sponsors, right? That’s so awesome.”
Her face turned bright red, and she stared down at her sundae, as if she wished she could crawl inside of it and hide. “Thanks,” she muttered. “Though I’ll probably drop back down to alternate now that you’re back.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” I replied, surprised she hadn’t heard about my little performance on the slopes that afternoon. Surely Olivia hadn’t missed an opportunity to relate to her entire crew the wild and crazy Lexi disaster tale. Maybe Becca was just being nice. “Besides, you’re amazing. You know, even if I hadn’t fallen, I bet you would have won that race anyway. You were on fire that—”
Becca dropped her sundae. It hit the floor, whipped cream and hot chocolate splattering everywhere, soaking my pants. “S-sorry,” she stammered, dropping to her knees to wipe up the mess. I could see tears welling up in her brown eyes as she grabbed scoopfuls of ice cream off the floor with her bare hands, haphazardly dropping them back into her bowl.
I stared at her in shock, realization hitting me with the force of a ten-ton truck. Was that it? Was that why things were so weird between us? Did she feel guilty that her career had taken off because mine had crashed and burned?
“Hey!” I cried, grabbing a handful of napkins and scrambling down to the floor beside her. I handed half the stack to her and kept half for myself. “It wasn’t your fault,” I reminded her, wiping down the cement. “It’s just how the cross is sometimes. People fall.” I wondered, not for the first time, if I should tell her the truth. That if anyone should feel guilty, it should be Olivia, not her.
But no. I couldn’t do that to her. She might opt to do something all noble—like give up her spot on the team, deciding she didn’t deserve it. It was much better to stay quiet and allow her to enjoy her new opportunity. After all, she certainly worked hard enough for it. And who knew? Like I’d said, maybe she would have won anyway, even if Olivia hadn’t gone and sabotaged me. I had to go with that, for her sake.
I realized it was time for a subject change. “You know, it seems a waste to throw out all this good ice cream,” I remarked casually. “You don’t suppose the five-second rule applies in this case?” I grabbed a spoon off the table and dug into the now grime-caked sundae. Holding it up to my mouth, I grinned. “Come on,” I teased. “Dare me.”
Becca stared at me for a moment, as if in disbelief. Then she started to laugh. “Ew, Lexi!” she cried. “Gross! Don’t you even think—”
“Oh, I’m sorry! Did you want it all for yourself?” I swooped the spoon toward her face. “Here comes the airplane, baby Becca . . . in for a landing!”
She squealed, swatting the spoon away. The ice cream went flying—
—landing on a pair of expensive-looking patent-leather boots.
Uh-oh. My eyes traveled up, from boots to black tights to plaid skirt to white fur coat. . . .
“Becca Montgomery!” Olivia cried, a disgusted look on her face as she stared down at me and my friend. She’d evidently hit the bathroom and reapplied her smeared makeup. Only a slight redness to her eyes hinted at what had gone down between her and her dad.
I watched as Olivia snapped her fingers, and one of the Boarder Barbies, a sixth grader by my guess, dropped to her knees, wiping the offending ice cream from Olivia’s boots. I was half-amazed Olivia didn’t make her lick it off instead. “What on earth are you doing on the floor?” she added, returning her attention to Becca.
“Oh,” Becca cried. Her smile faded as she scrambled to her feet. “I dropped my sundae, and Lexi was helping me wipe up the mess.” Ugh. She sounded so apologetic. As if she’d done something wrong. What happened to my kick-butt, girl-power bestie?
Olivia snorted. “Well, that’s good for Lexi,” she replied. “Practicing for her future venture in custodial arts, now that her little snowboarding career has come screeching to a halt.” She grabbed Becca by the sleeve. “But you, Montgomery, have more important things to do. Ava’s in the bathroom with a wardrobe malfunction, and you’re the only one who knows how to sew.”
“Excuse me,” I interrupted, rising to my feet, anger flaring. I was so close to getting my old friend back—I just knew it. “Becca and I were in the middle of talking. Ava will have to wait.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Well, I suppose we better let Becca decide that, don’t you think?” She released her arm. “Well, Becca, my dear?”
I stole a glance at my friend. Please pick me, please pick me, please pick me. I swear at that moment I would have given up Olympic gold forever just to have my best friend tell Olivia to get lost. That she had her true friend back now and didn’t need those brainless Boarder Barbies.
Becca looked at me, then at Olivia, her face a war of emotions. I gnawed on my lower lip, beginning to get nervous. What was going on with her? How could she even consider choosing Olivia over me?
“Becca, what’s wrong?” I found myself asking, my eyes welling up with tears. I knew I shouldn’t be acting this vulnerable in front of Olivia—it would only give her more ammunition. But I couldn’t help it. “What’s going on with you? Did I do something? Whatever it was, tell me and I’ll make it up to you!” My mind raced for reasons that she could be mad at me, but I kept coming up blank.
Becca squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, her face now a mask of resignation. “Sorry, Lexi,” she mumbled. “I need to help Ava.” And with that, she shuffled off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving me alone with Olivia, who was now beaming wider than the Cheshire cat.
It was the last straw. My body took over, ignoring my mind’s plea to take the higher road. Instead I grabbed Becca’s discarded bowl and shoved it into Olivia’s face. She screamed as the grimy whipped cream and chocolate syrup dripped down her cheeks. As she tried to wipe it away, she only managed to get chocolate on her pristine white coat and gain the attention of the other students. Now everyone was staring at her in the way I’d first imagined them staring at me.
“You are so dead,” she snarled in her most venomous of tones. “I will get you, Lexi Miller, if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Please. What could you possibly do to me,” I shot back, “that you haven’t already done?”
And with that, I turned and fled the party.
CHAPTER NINE
If life were a movie, the cameras would be following me as I abandoned the rec center, stepping out onto the snow-dusted grounds on my way back to the dorm. Maybe I’d be stomping angrily; maybe I’d be shedding a few dramatic tears. Either way, the sound track would be gloomy and dark and hopeless. In the credits it’d be listed as “Requiem for a Friend” or something equally as depressing.
Then, out of nowhere, the cameras would cut away, revealing Becca bursting out of the building, chasing me down, and grabbing me by the shou
lders to whirl me around, her face full of apology and regret. As the music soared, we’d cry and laugh and hug as she’d beg me to forgive her. Then we’d sling arms around each other’s shoulders and walk off into the snowflakes, a silver-screen-worthy rebeginning of a beautiful friendship.
But my life was not a movie. Becca remained inside with her new friends. And as I walked through the snow-carpeted campus shuffling my boots to make trails in the powder, I remained utterly alone. The wind had started to pick up, and I pulled my parka closer around me, the cold mingling with my despair.
What was going on with Becca? Why was she acting so weird? And how did Olivia fit into all this? Why was Becca hanging around her, obeying her like a pathetic little puppy dog? The Becca I knew would never, ever, in a million years bow down to a Boarder Barbie.
For a moment, as we were crouched down on the floor with the spilled ice cream, I thought I’d caught a glimpse of the old Becca. The Becca who would share chocolate milk with a rumored cootie-stricken outcast. The Becca who would never betray her best friend. Was she still there, somewhere, hiding underneath all the pink ribbons? And if so, how could I draw her out again?
Discouraged, I trudged across campus in the low evening light. The sun was dropping fast, and in a half hour or so it’d be totally dark. As I scanned the empty grounds, my eyes fell upon the half-pipe, a little ways up the hill. I smiled, remembering all the nights Becca and I had snuck out of the dorm, after lights-out, to ride it in the dark. It was the ultimate dare, and we’d never once gotten caught.
On impulse, I changed course, heading over to the ski lockers to grab my board, then starting the short trek up the hill to the top of the pipe. Maybe now was the perfect time to practice—with no one around to see me if I fell. Maybe my only problem earlier had been the pressure of judgmental eyes. Maybe this time I’d be fine and not freak out.
I had to try.
I reached the top of the pipe and looked down. I knew if my life were still that movie, I’d be strapping on my board and dropping in, without a care in the world. The sound track would soar along with me as I popped up over the first side, launching into a perfect backside 180 tail grab. By the time I’d reached the bottom, I would have successfully not only faced my fears, but completely conquered them. The film would then cut to me at the Olympic games, a gold medal being draped around my neck.