by Joanne Rock
“Good job, man,” he told him.
“Thanks, Brad,” Julian returned, rolling to his back to stare up at the falling snow.
Or, more likely, just to catch his breath.
I felt useless. Worse than last year’s accessory. I had absolutely no purpose here. I’d failed my partner. Failed Missy and Bella.
“I’m glad you’re not hurt,” I told Julian, wishing he’d accepted my help.
“Thanks for being here. There. I mean, at the top of the gorge.” He took shallow breaths, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
I scooched closer to him, sliding across the snow on my butt. It got dark early this time of year and I realized it was already getting tough to see.
“Yeah. Lot of help I was.” I leaned back against a tree, exhausted from worrying. I pulled out my phone and double-checked it to see if my ranting text to Mom had gone through, but of course it hadn’t. Still no cell signal.
“I was getting tired at the end,” he admitted, shifting to his side and propping his head. “I didn’t think I could go up another inch.”
“Really?” My heart started pounding all over again. “Why didn’t you say something? I could’ve gotten help—”
“It helped to hear you. To see you right there in front of me.” His mouth lifted on one side. A half smile. “I knew I’d be all right then.”
My heart kept flying along at super speed and I realized that it wasn’t worry I was feeling. It was a boy-girl kind of thing. For Julian.
I let that idea settle inside my head and it didn’t freak me out the same way it had back when we’d been on the chairlift.
“I can’t believe you got Andre out of there.” Julian had gone down into that narrow gap and gotten him. He’d organized the effort to lift him out and half-carried Andre’s weight on his shoulders as he climbed.
No wonder he was tired.
“It took a long time though.” He looked back up at the sky again. “We have less than an hour before dark.” He got to his feet and then held out his hand to help me to mine.
Unlike him, I took it without thinking twice.
“What does that mean?” I asked as I stood, my breath puffing in clouds as I spoke. “What should we be doing?”
I hadn’t thought beyond getting Andre out of the gorge.
“We need to find somewhere that has cell coverage to get a message out. But first we’d better build a fire and set up a camp. Because if no one knows where we are and Andre is too hurt to ski, we’re going to be stuck out here tonight.”
Chapter Seven
Julian
Once we’d hauled Andre from the gorge, I repacked my rope and the crampons. I made quick work of putting on my skis since we didn’t have much daylight left.
“Does anyone know how to build a fire?” I didn’t have many matches with me, so I didn’t want some clueless kid wasting them all.
“Sure, man.” Brad pulled a lighter from his jacket pocket. “I might have some papers, too.” He snickered with his friend.
Whatever. He’d be better off donating his rolling papers to a good cause, right? I gave him the thumbs-up and kept my matches in my backpack.
“Good deal.” I pointed out an area clear of trees. “I’d build here and make sure it’s big enough to see from a distance. You might want to break into pairs to look for wood.”
“It’s gonna smoke,” Brad warned, already yanking down a dead branch still dangling off a tree. “The wood will be wet.”
“Smoke is fine. It’ll help search parties on foot to find us. But try to get some flames going to help them see us.”
Brad nodded. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve got to get a call out or a text message, but I haven’t had a signal for the last couple of hours.” I put my backpack on and wrapped my cape over it.
Say what you will about a cape; I’d be the only one warm tonight if we got stuck out here.
My eyes slid to Hannah. I could probably be talked into sharing it.
Blinking, I forced myself to snap out of it. Just because she remembered some random moment we shared in fifth grade didn’t mean the past was forgiven. But it had been cool to find out she hadn’t forgotten. That it was still important to her under all the Mean Girl crap she’d worn like armor since junior high.
“I’m going with you.” She stared at me with her inscrutable eyes, her red hair curling around her shoulders damply now that the snow fell so heavy.
“It’s safer for you here.” I didn’t need her slowing me down.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re partners. Buddy system, remember? No arguing.” She yanked her ski cap down farther beneath her helmet so it covered her ears more. “I’m going.”
“Don’t go all stubborn on me,” I warned. “This isn’t the same as talking your way out of a homework assignment. There are real dangers in these woods and they’re only getting worse as it gets dark.”
Her eyes narrowed. Her mouth flattened into a thin line. “Which is why I need to protect you.”
“From bears?” I couldn’t resist.
“Exactly. I think we can both agree I have bigger claws than you.” She dug her poles in the snow. “Now get moving before we lose more light.”
I said nothing. I just started skiing.
We trudged silently for a while, the snow too fresh for any kind of speed. But after a few minutes she sidled closer.
“Thanks for not arguing with me.”
“I did argue. You just refused to listen.”
She flipped long, damp strands of auburn behind one shoulder as she sighed. “I know you think I’m this super ` mean chick, but—”
“You’re strong and you’re tough. That part’s cool.”
“Really?” Her voice sounded uncertain in a way that hit me right in the chest.
I swallowed down the feeling, not ready for it. Not now.
“Definitely. I don’t mind that you wanted to come with me, Hannah. I like that you speak your mind.” I debated how to put the next part. “It’s when you snark on people to make them feel small…that’s mean. But I don’t think that’s really you.”
Let her chew on that. I waited for her to jab me in the kidney with a ski pole or step on the back of my ski. But she was so quiet the only sound I heard for a long moment was the rhythmic thunk of her poles in the snow.
“Of course it’s me. I’m the one who does it.”
“Yeah, but you do it because your friends expect you to. You got a reputation for being the mean girl, and now you don’t know how to quit.”
She stopped. Skis, poles, arms…all of it just kind of wilted right there. I paused, too, turning around to see her face scrunched in a weird, thoughtful way. Frowning, she reached for her chest, her palm and her ski pole resting there like she was holding herself together.
“What?” I edged backward toward her. “Did you lose something?”
I couldn’t see the ground clearly in the shadows of shrinking daylight, but I scanned for anything she might have dropped.
“How do you know that?” She moved closer in a way that made my pulse leap. “I mean—why would you ever give me the benefit of the doubt?”
One of her skis slid between mine. She was that close.
I swallowed hard.
“You don’t fool me, Hannah.” I shrugged. “I judge people based on what I observe. What I know.”
“One time, I locked Bobby Randall in the girls’ room. His friends still call him Flush.”
“Everyone knew he was going to get pounded that day by a senior wrestler from another school. It was obvious to me you saved his life.”
She rolled her eyes. “I steal hall passes from Ms. Hanrahan’s desk all the time.”
“You and everyone else.” I noticed that I couldn’t see her freckles as well now that the sun was setting.
“I shoved Lauren Carlson off a cliff at camp.”
“Definitely mean. But it was a small cliff, if I remember correctly. And you were having the year fro
m hell.”
She gasped. “How did you—”
“I pay way too much attention to you.”
Chapter Eight
Hannah
Julian paid attention to me. And not just today.
The realization that his dark eyes had followed me other times—at school, at camp—warmed me inside for all of a second. Until I remembered what he would have seen most of the time.
Me doing whatever I needed to in order to maintain my status.
“Don’t make excuses for me,” I snapped.
I would have skied away and left this conversation behind, but all of a sudden, Julian reached toward me.
He’d pulled his glove off at some point and now, his bare fingers brushed over my cheek. Warm from the glove, rough from scaling icy cliffs, his touch moved slowly along my skin while his face loomed closer to mine.
My heartbeat skittered into some nonsensical rhythm, the sound echoing in my ears until it drowned out everything else.“Your dad left the year you pushed Lauren,” he reminded me softly.
“That doesn’t make it right to take the hurt out on everyone else.” I looked down, unable to meet those kind brown eyes.
“No.” His hand cupped my jaw. Tipped my face up, toward his, until I looked at him again. He was closer now. So close I could breathe his breath, minty and warmer than the chilly Adirondack air.
“Why would you like someone like that?” I didn’t like me much these days. Guilt made my chest go tight with each icy breath.
Guilt…and something else.
“Because.” His touch moved down my neck, the tips of his fingers sliding beneath my hair. “Once you realize that you’re strong and smart and funny—that you don’t need the designer clothes or Missy’s approval—you’re going to blow everyone else away.”
Normally, I’d argue with this. But seeing myself reflected in his eyes, I could almost see what he did. Or maybe I just really, really wanted to.
“You’re crazy,” I reminded him, my hand landing on his chest where his heart would be.
Even through my glove and his jacket, I could feel his warmth. A visible shudder happened when I touched him. Like he’d been waiting for it for a long time. His eyes closed for a second.
“Yeah. Probably.”
We stood there for one timeless second, letting the snow swirl all around us and letting the darkness fall. Then his eyes opened and locked on me.
“Stay still,” he warned, his voice a little rough and his touch anything but.
My heartbeat went ballistic. I couldn’t have moved if I’d tried.
He came closer. His lips landed on mine in a kiss I never would have expected. The contact was soft and sweet, gentle and unhurried. My eyes fell closed, senses focused on the feel of him.
I wondered if his heartbeat pounded as hard as mine beneath my gloved hand. But beneath my lips, he took all the time in the world. I’d been kissed before, but always with guys who acted like they knew what they were doing.
There’d been sloppy kisses. Fast kisses. And hard, aggressive kisses that mashed lips on teeth.
Not Julian. His mouth teased over mine like a guy determined to get it exactly right. I felt dizzy from it and had to put both hands on him to steady myself.
“Hannah.” He whispered my name over my lips as he broke the kiss. His forehead fell against mine. He dragged in raspy breaths as we stood together in the cold night that was almost fully dark. “We should—”
“I know.” I nodded. Backed up a little. I was totally flustered and confused about what just happened, even though the goose bumps all over my arms told me I’d liked it. A lot.
“I don’t want to get us lost.” His hand fell away from my cheek. “And it’s getting dark.”
“Right.” Battling the butterflies in my stomach, I grabbed my phone to cover the awkwardness of the moment. “Should we check for a signal yet?”
My fingers trembled as they hovered over the dull light of the screen. What was I thinking to kiss Julian? And what the hell was I going to do if anyone from school found out?
“Do you hear that?” Julian’s voice cut through my thoughts. He grabbed my hand in a tense grip.
I felt, more than heard, a weird rumble. Like a truck engine coming toward us.
“What is it?” I started to ask when I saw a shadow of movement out of the corner of one eye.
The tremors under my feet rumbled louder.
“Get your skis off.” Julian yanked me hard to one side, shoving away my poles.
I tripped and would have face-planted, but he held me up. Just long enough for me to understand what was happening.
A wall of snow bore down on us. We were caught in an avalanche.
Chapter Nine
Julian
Snow pummeled us.
My brain did backflips trying to remember everything I’d ever read about sliding snow. Dive to the side of it, swim on top of it, cup your hand around your mouth to give yourself breathing space under the snow, cover your nose and mouth with a scarf so snow doesn’t suffocate you.
Now, snow ripped my skis off and dragged on my backpack. I used one arm to shove the crest of the sliding snow, but the other I kept around Hannah. No way was I losing her.
She screamed and scared the hell out of me. Then she went quiet and scared me even more.
I held a fistful of her coat. Tree branches and rocks tore along my arm, but I didn’t let go. I tried to draw her closer, to lessen the chance we’d be separated, but I couldn’t fight the force of the snow.
My helmet ripped off my head. I clocked my cheek against a tree and left skin behind. And still I slid.
But just as suddenly as it started—it stopped.
I punched my free fist in the direction I hoped was up. Then I punched in every other direction, trying to create some air space before the snow packed down. I held my breath, knowing oxygen wouldn’t last. Did we have ten minutes? Twelve? I couldn’t remember.
All I knew was I needed to get Hannah and get out of here. Except that—as I flexed my fingers fisted around her coat—there was no fabric anymore. Somewhere in the chaos of those last few seconds, Hannah must have slipped free.
Panic ripped through me harder than it had when the avalanche started. I willed it down, stuffed it back, knowing that it would only steal precious air from my lungs if I started freaking out. But my head throbbed and a voice in my head screamed so loud I couldn’t hear myself think.
And screamed and screamed.
Until I realized it wasn’t me anymore. Someone called my name.
“Hannah?” I shouted. The sound blistered my ears since it had nowhere to go in my tiny, compressed snow cave.
Disoriented, I couldn’t figure out where the noise was coming from. Had I even heard a voice or was it like a mirage in the desert…mental wish fulfillment?
“Julian!” I heard her better this time; it had to be Hannah.
I pictured her buried under the snow, using up all her oxygen calling for me. My chest burned with new fear. But I didn’t answer. Wouldn’t answer. One of us had to stay alert. Focused. And I was supposed to know something about survival, damn it. I hadn’t been a Boy Scout then Eagle Scout half my life just for the joy of getting mocked. I’d done it for moments like this.
As I calmed down, I remembered one thing I could do. I spit to see what way the saliva went. Tough to tell in the dark. So I cupped my hand around my mouth, like I had when I’d been falling, and felt it shoot perpendicular to my face toward the right. If my right arm was down and my left arm was up, that meant the hand that had been holding Hannah’s coat had been closer to the surface. Still was, in fact.
I dug with my left hand. Slowly, I edged my shoulder in circles to give myself more room, pinned all over by the heavy snow. It felt more packed now than even two minutes ago, and I was glad I’d punched some tunnels loose before the final slide had fallen into place. Now, I had the smallest amount of room to work.
Scratch, dig, hope, pray. I did i
t even though the scrape and squeak of shifting snow drowned out the sounds of Hannah calling for me. I needed to get to her. Needed to save her before she used up all her oxygen and passed out.
Or worse.
Before I could lose my mind thinking about that again, the snow around my left hand felt lighter. I could move it more freely. Which would have been great except I still couldn’t move my elbow. Or my other arm. Or anything else.
The weight of the snow crushed my hope as much as my body. Defeat dragged me down. I was going to fail Hannah.
Funny how that’s all I thought about.
If no one found me, I would hate what that would do to my mom and my dad and my brother. But if no one found Hannah? If she died in the crush? I couldn’t handle that.
Brain fuzzy and thoughts confused, I kept digging with one hand. Kept scraping and clawing and hoping I’d really reached a pocket where the snow wasn’t so heavy.
And then, out of nowhere, a hand gripped mine.
Chapter Ten
Hannah
“Julian!” I collapsed on the ground beside those gloved fingers, holding tight to them with one hand while I dug like a maniac with the other. “I’m here!”
Tears stung my eyes as much as the scratches that covered my face. Ice and branches had slashed my skin on the way down the tidal wave of snow, but Julian had somehow kept me above the worst of it. Had holding on to me forced him lower in the snow? It was a miracle I’d felt his fingers moving in the snow as I felt around in the dark for any sign of him close to where his hand had let go of my coat.
I held my ear over the hole I’d dug, listening hard. Was he hurt? What if he’d broken a leg like Andre? I’d never be able to help him.
“Hannah.”
I heard my name, soft and muffled, below the snow. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Actually, I think I was already doing both.
“Are you okay?” I screeched on scratchy vocal cords, shouting for him.
There was a mumble I couldn’t understand. But then, clear as day, I heard him say, “I am now.”