Wilson Mooney, Almost Eighteen

by Gretchen de La O

  “Max, you better wait for me!” She skied over, snapped her skis off, and clomped over to hug him. She wrapped around him and he locked his arms around her. I couldn’t tell if she kissed him because I couldn’t see his face through her thick curly brown hair. He had a beanie that covered his head and sunglasses that hid his expression. That couldn’t be my Max. I twisted to see what was happening between them. As he lowered her to the ground, she grabbed his beanie off, messed up his hair, and stepped back. He smiled and pulled off his sunglasses. My heart shattered. Chills radiated from the inside out. It was my Max. He was staring at her.

  Who was that girl? She was unbelievably perfect—something I wasn’t. Her smile, her hair…she looked worldly and very comfortable with him. You might as well crush me into a billion pieces. Broken wishes and jagged dreams: cargo I thought only needy girls owned. I wasn’t supposed to be one of them. I wasn’t one of them. I’d always considered myself independent, personable, and emotionally strong before this weekend. I glanced back and saw the pretty girl laughing and pushing her fingers to move Max’s hair out of his eyes. She was touching him and he looked like he was right at home. I guess I was wrong. I was a self conscious, emotionally broken and disenchanted, needy girl.

  “What’s the holdup? You can do this. Don’t think about it,” Wayne yelled up to me.

  I turned back to face down the mountain. He was hard to see through the tears that stung so cold in my eyes. My cheeks wet, frozen with icy lines of complete devastation, I held my breath and leaned forward. I needed to get away from them. I didn’t need to see anymore, I was tortured enough.

  I felt my balance teeter too far in front of me. My knees stretched, my calves pulled, and my stomach coiled. I was heading straight to Wayne with full force. I couldn’t get my skis to pitch into a V, and I was going too fast to stop. I couldn’t see through the tear-heavy lashes that clogged my vision. Fear and exhilaration spun out of control through my body. Was it because I was skiing down the hill, or because this heartbreak was the worst ever? I couldn’t answer, I just felt my body somersault forward. White and blue swirled around me—sun then snow, sky then pain. I swore I heard my name being screamed like a parent trying to stop a child from running across a busy street.

  When my body stopped tumbling and sliding, I heard the sound of snow cutting across like paper when it’s ripped into long strips. Wayne snapped off his skis and hopped down to me.

  “Wilson, are you okay? Answer me.” He bent down to me, pulling off his gloves to clear the snow-drenched hair from my face.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a skier.” My pride was bruised and my heart was wounded. My body was fine; it was my soul that hurt all over.

  “Wow that was quite a tumble you took.” His thumb pulled down on my lower lid as he stared into my eyes. “Can you feel your feet? Move your fingers?” He pulled off my gloves. I moved my fingers.

  “Can you feel that?” He stroked my fingertips.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just want to sit up.” I raised my head from the snow.

  “Wait. Let me help you.” He adjusted my head and I felt his hands slide under my neck. He pressed his fingertips into my spine. “Does that hurt?”

  “No, I really am fine. Just feel a little stupid,” I told him as I tried to sit up.

  He slid under my back and pulled me against his chest.

  “Just sit here a minute. Give yourself a moment before you try to stand up.” I felt his hands slide up the sides of my neck. I could feel his heart beat against my back. I rested against him. He was so comforting, like a down blanket that warmed me on a blustery day. I closed my eyes and tried to stop the ache from consuming the rest of my body. Wrong solution—all I could see was Max and that girl together. How she was touching him, and how he was smiling at her. His hands held her tight against his body. NO, I can’t take this. I opened my eyes to stop the visions. Stop the swell of devastation trying to take over every part of my body. Wayne’s arm wrapped across my chest, his hands pulled my hair away from my left temple, and he pressed hard.

  “Ouch.” I flinched, pain shooting through my head. He scooped up some snow and pressed it against the side of my head.

  “You’ve got a pretty sizable gash. The ski must’ve hit you.” He pulled his hand back and I saw the blood. Behind it, I caught someone standing there. My eyes focused on the figure—it was Max. Wayne pressed his hand back onto my head.

  “Hey buddy, could you ski down and get medic? I don’t have a walkie-talkie,” Wayne asked Max, a total stranger to him. Max’s face was ghostly white. His eyes showed me just how bad it must have looked. He stared into my eyes for a second, I looked away, and he skied down past us.

  “Lucky that guy stopped. I think you’ll be fine, but I want a medic to take a look at it. What were you thinking?” His other hand slid against my forehead and across to my temple. His hand had to be freezing from holding the snow against my cut.

  “Nothing; just trying to make it down to you.” There was no way I was really going to tell him what was clouding my thoughts.

  “Well, next time you need to think about something else, like coming to dinner with me tonight.” I could feel his body tighten and adjust to my weight.

  My heart thumped strong in my chest. Oh my frickin’ God, he was amazingly gorgeous. It was so tempting to accept his invitation. I took a deep breath to tell him I didn’t think it was the best idea when I heard the engine of a snowmobile winding high and the slosh of the blades cutting through the snow. Again! First the slowing of the ski lift, and now I was going to be taken down the hill in a basket behind a snowmobile. I was two for two in strikeouts. This was definitely not my sport.

  The driver and Wayne got me into the basket. Wayne sat at the front with my head in his lap. It was a short ride down, considering it was just the bunny slope I’d wrecked on. They dragged me to the first aid station where, outside the door, I saw Max and Cindy waiting. My eyes met Max’s as I was lifted to stand up. I was light headed and the blood gushed into my sight. I fell back into Wayne’s chest and he held me as he helped me into the small room.

  “I need to go in there—that’s my friend,” Cindy told them. Max grabbed her arm and kept her back.

  “I’m sorry, Miss, we don’t have room for more than the injured party and the medical staff. But we will get her taken care of as fast as we can.” I saw Max looking in at me as the door closed.

  “Okay, what happened here?” the medic asked Wayne.

  “Well, I was about fifteen feet below her, waiting for her to start down the slope. This being her first run, I didn’t want to go too far ahead. From what I could tell, her skis crossed and she flipped several times in the air. I think her ski must’ve busted her across her left temple. She slid past me and stopped. I skied down to her…” He shuffled his body back and forth. His hands spun and tangled up with each other, showing a reenactment of what had happened.

  “Miss Mooney, do you remember what happened?” the medic asked as he patted the side of my head with gauze. I swallowed hard and answered as best I could. But I was preoccupied with worrying about Max and Cindy together waiting for me. If she pressed him, he might crack.

  “Kinda. I remember leaning forward, then my skis crossed and I rolled. But it was almost like a feeling instead of a memory. By the time I opened my eyes, he was down next to me.” I pointed to Wayne, who stood up and held the gauze on my temple while the medic grabbed a roll of tape and cross-stuck it on my head. The medic continued to check me for brain damage, asking me all these ambiguous questions I couldn’t answer without asking him something back.

  “So Miss Mooney, is this your first time skiing?” The guy pulled down my lower eyelid to shine a little flashlight across my pupils.

  Did he not hear Wayne explain to him this was my first time skiing? Is this guy serious? Even if I didn’t just fall down the side of an ice covered bunny slope, could he not tell it was my first time?

  “Yeah, it’s my first ti
me. If you want to call it skiing.” I touched the bandage taped across the side of my head; it stung and burned deep.

  “Do you remember hitting your head?” the medic asked.

  “No.”

  “Double vision?” he asked.

  “Nope,” I breathed.

  “Dizzy? Sick to your stomach?”

  “Not really.” I was getting frustrated.

  “What is this guy’s name?” He pointed to Wayne.

  “He’s Wayne Samuel, my ski instructor.”

  “Well, make sure he gives you another lesson. Or get your money back.” He popped Wayne in the chest. “You’re going to be fine. Are you here with someone?”

  “Yeah, she’s right outside.” I pointed toward the door.

  “Okay, good. Let me go talk to her.” He opened the door. Cindy was talking on her iPhone.

  “I gotta go, the doctor just came out. I’ll call you right back.” She pulled her phone from her ear. “Is she okay? What happened?” She pressed for answers. It was a good thing he left the door open, because I was able to see exactly what was being said.

  “She’s fine. She hit her head on her ski and suffered a gash. My suggestion is to keep an eye on her. I don’t see any signs of a concussion or anything more serious. But that doesn’t mean it can’t occur.”

  “So she’s okay? Can she continue skiing today?”

  “Well, I think she should go to the lodge, warm up, and see how she feels a little later.”

  “I’ll take her over there. No problem,” Wayne interrupted, almost leaping between the medic and Cindy.

  “Oh, and who are you again?” Cindy snapped.

  “Wayne Samuel, her ski instructor. I don’t mind staying with her while you take some more runs with your boyfriend.” He pointed over to Max.

  “Number one, he is not my boyfriend and number two, I know you from somewhere.” She tapped her finger across her lips.

  “I met you at the airport. My father sat next to you guys on the plane—John Samuel.”

  “Oh, yeah, your father was the man who took my seat. I met you in the Denver airport where you picked him up, right? Okay, well that makes me feel better that you’ll sit with her. We just got here and I would like to take a couple more runs. You’re okay with that, right, Wilson?” She looked into the room and saw that I was sitting up. I waved my hand and looked past her to find Max. He was pacing back and forth. I could tell he wanted to come over and check on me but couldn’t with Cindy hovering so close.

  “Go. I’ll be fine. Go ski.” I fanned my hands, shooing her away.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you in the lodge in an hour.” She put on her skis and slid away.

  “What do you say, my best pupil, are you ready to get up and make it to the lodge?” Wayne wrapped his arm around my back and locked his hand under my arm.

  “I can take her,” a voice broke my focus, “How are you?” Max stood in the doorway. I wanted to be angry with him. I really wanted him to feel the pain I felt watching him hold another girl.

  “I’ve been better,” I was short of breath.

  “I’m Max, a friend of Wilson’s.” He held out his hand.

  “Wayne. Nice to meet you.” He shook it.

  I watched the guys size each other up and down before Wayne broke the tension.

  “Would you mind grabbing her skis?” Max took my skis and flung them over his left shoulder, then picked up his and rested them on his right.

  Wayne walked with me to the lodge, keeping his arm around my back and his other hand supporting me in case I became too weak. I was fine. I actually felt pretty good and was able to walk on my own. All the way to the lodge I leaned into Wayne, while Max followed behind carrying my skis—a small payback for breaking my heart.

  chapter twelve:

  The door to the lodge swung open and Wayne helped me through. I was fine and he really didn’t need to hold me so tightly. It was because of the ski boots that I wobbled and lost my balance. When I looked behind us to Max, he was staring a hole through Wayne’s back as he put the skis into the rack. But his face softened and his eyes rounded when he noticed I was looking at him. He can’t do that to me. I was the one that was hurt. I was the one that should have been so mad I could’ve spit nails. He was the one that started this game. It was his hands that locked around that girl, his smile that kept her interested, and his eyes that welcomed her attention.

  There was something about Max that made butterflies come to life in my stomach. The same ones he had tamed to flutter when I thought about him. The ones that now lay dying in my gut. He had spilled the nectar that kept them vibrant and alive, leaving them with nothing to feed on but the leftover residue of betrayal. Yeah, you could say I was hurt.

  I let Wayne take me to a quiet corner of the lodge. He made sure I was comfortable before he went to the bar. I kept staring at the door, waiting for Max to come in. Didn’t he feel the same way about me? Wasn’t he going to at least put up a fight to get me back? I shouldn’t even feel this way. I should have been pissed. I should try to find him and confront him about his new girlfriend. Damn-it, where was he?

  “Here you go.” Wayne balanced a hot cocoa in his grip and pushed it toward me.

  “Thank you. Is there alcohol in this?” I asked before I took a drink. He looked at me with his eyebrows scrunched and his lips tightened across his mouth.

  “No, just hot cocoa, that’s all.”

  I took a small swig. It scorched down my throat, clearing the pain Max created by not coming in to fight for me.

  “Thanks,” I croaked.

  “No problem. Have you thought about my offer?” He sat across from me, his back to the door.

  “What offer was that?” I teased.

  “You don’t remember? I asked if you’d like to go to dinner with me tonight.” He kept his hands busy spinning his mug of hot cocoa.

  “Oh, yeah, I remember. Thanks, but I think I’d better stick close to Cindy tonight.” I drank my cocoa.

  “Why don’t you bring her? Purely friends, okay?”

  “I didn’t hit my head that hard. I really don’t feel comfortable subjecting you to her.” I tapped his hand and laughed. He didn’t laugh back.

  “Well, I still have some time to convince you to go to dinner with me.” He picked up his chair and slid it in front of me without the table between us.

  I was a little surprised when Wayne grabbed my feet and pulled off my boots. Cool air washed across my socks and my feet could actually feel the temperature on the outside. They had been held captive long enough. He snatched my ankle, ran his cool hands down my foot, and began to press his fingers into the bottom between my arch and toes. It felt so good. My head fell back to rest on the top of the chair, heavenly.

  “Wayne Samuel, your next client is here. Please report to lessons. Wayne Samuel,” a voice came over the loud speaker.

  “Son of a bit—Wilson, I’m so sorry. But I have to take this lesson. I cancelled on her last week and she is a regular client. If I cancel again…” He laid my feet on the chair after he stood up.

  “Wayne, don’t worry about it. I’ve got a hot cocoa and I can walk if I need anything. Go.” I shooed him away with my hands.

  “I’ll make it up to you, I promise, dinner tonight.” He rubbed my ankle.

  “Nice try. I really need to go home with Cindy. Thanks for helping me.” He smiled and walked straight out the back door.

  I sat at the big table alone. Time surrounded me, clicking by in slow motion. Every time the door flew open my heart dropped wanting to see Max walk through it. Every time, I was sadly disappointed. I figured I’d just be better off watching people around the lodge because waiting for him was worse than throwing up in my mouth and not having a place to spit it out.

  I noticed that the people sitting around me were totally consumed by their laptops, phones, and iPads. Next to me was a dad on his netbook, clicking away while his son was glued to his iPod. His little brother poked his DS with a stylus, cheering ou
t loud when he passed another level. Why weren’t they out skiing? What was so important they couldn’t go out and spend time together on the slopes? Why even come? My eyes scanned to the next table—another family that sat together and didn’t talk. I wondered if they even realized how they are shutting each other out. Did they even know what they had? Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have a brother or a sister. To live in a normal family with a mom and dad. What it would feel like to have people around who loved you, because that was what they were supposed to do? A chill ran down my spine; I took a deep breath, clearing the stale air that clung to my lungs.

  I felt my phone vibrate in my tiny blue pocket. It was Joanie, my best friend in the entire world. I must have been sitting in a spot that gets cell reception because it also vibrated with five text messages and four voicemails.

  I answered her call, “Hi, J.”

  “Wilson, what is going on? I’m freaking out over here. You can’t leave me texts like that. I need clear, spelled-out, detailed information,” she paused to take a breath.

  “Sorry, I know. The minute I sent it I knew I should’ve just called you.”

  “Well? Details. And don’t leave anything out. Did you see Mr. Goldstein? What happened?” her voice jumped over itself.

  “Yeah, I saw him. Joanie, he spent the night with me.” The words tumbled out of my mouth.

  “GET OUT, you’re such a liar! How did it happen? I want every detail. Was he any good?”

  “J, we didn’t do anything like that. He came over to Cindy’s with his brother Calvin.”

  “He has a brother? How old is he?” I could hear her smiling.

  “I think he’s a little older than us. Anyway, we got to talking and one thing led to another and he kissed me in a bathroom.”

  “Oh my God, you’re killing me, I can’t believe this. He kissed you—in a bathroom. Was it wet? Did he stick his tongue in your mouth? Was he any good? I can’t frickin’ believe it. Mr. Goldstein.” She wouldn’t stop talking.

  “He was better than good. It was so unbelievable. He was really, really good—like he knew what he was doing—good.” I felt pressure rise in my chest and my face burst into a smile I couldn’t contain.