Snowbound

by CJ Martín

  Over greasy burgers and French fries, I spill the whole story about Anders.

  “So what do you think?” I ask her. I want her honest opinion, and I know she’ll give it to me whether or not I like what she has to say.

  “Honestly? He’s a douchebag. Total player.” She munches on a fry. “I mean don’t get me wrong, he’s smokin’ hot. And he’s a kickass snowboarder. Probably the best out there right now. But that’s not what you’re asking me.”

  “Really? How do you know all that?” I’m still not one hundred percent convinced.

  She rolls her eyes. “You know Tony is completely obsessed with snowboarding. Whenever I’m home over break that’s all I hear about.”

  Tony is her younger brother. He’s a senior in high school and flipped his shit when he realized where we were headed on winter break. Of course he couldn’t go because of school—his break was nowhere near as long as ours. He begged his parents to let him skip but Maria’s parents are super-strict so they refused. I can only imagine the fight that ensued.

  I sigh. “Yeah I figured as much. He said he wants to be friends.”

  Maria snorts. “Yeah right.”

  “I know.” I don’t offer anymore because I know she’s right. Anders doesn’t want to be my friend. He isn’t friends with any girl. I knew friends was code for “Let’s fuck,” but I so desperately didn’t want it to be true. I wanted to tell my stupid brain to stop analyzing and live. Just live.

  Reading my troubled expression all too easily, Maria says, “It’s gonna be okay, really. I’d let that boy call me his friend and then fuck me any way he’d like.”

  My eyes widen at her boldness, although by now I should be used to her.

  “Go. Live a little.” Her words mirror my inner dialogue.

  After only a second’s pause, I declare, “Fuck it. I’m going tomorrow. You only live once.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” She cheers, holding up her beer bottle.

  Since I stopped taking those stupid pain pills, I’m allowed to drink. An injured ankle was enough of an impediment. I wasn’t going to spend this entire break without partying. At least a little. I clink my own bottle with hers.

  We each have two more beers and chat about silly girl things, avoiding talk of the upcoming semester. She’ll be completing her student teaching practicum and I’ve been assigned an internship at a large supermarket chain. I don’t want to work retail, but I know that this internship will cycle me through various departments, giving me the most opportunity to explore different career paths within my major. I can’t believe that we’re all grown-up. College is almost over.

  We leave the bar a little tipsy and walk back to the lodge. The alcohol has dulled the pain in my ankle a bit and I’m able to keep stride with Maria.

  It’s perfect timing as we enter the lodge because we run into the rest of our group.

  “Hey!” Charles slurs. Clearly he’s had too much sake. “We’re heading to the hot tub. You down?”

  Hot tub? After this cold weather the hot tub sounds perfect. Maria and I follow Chelsea and Nikki to the elevator. “Give us ten minutes.”

  The next morning I don’t want to get out of bed, so much so that when I glance at the clock it reads nine seventeen. I set my alarm for eight thirty.

  “Shit,” I mutter to myself, whipping the covers back. I fumble in the dark for a moment, my hand skimming blindly over the nightstand in search of my phone. It lights up when my thumb finds the home button. I scan the screen and see that I have a message from my mom and a pic from Rob taken last night. I type a quick message to my mom, letting her know that I’m having a good time. I send a smiley face to Rob, then get out of bed and head for the bathroom.

  After showering and dressing in record time, I grab my phone off the nightstand. I’m surprised to see a response from Rob telling me that he’ll walk with me to the café. It’s cold and early, but I wouldn’t mind the company, so I tell him to meet me in the lobby in five minutes.

  Maria’s still in bed asleep. I shake her gently and tell her I’m leaving. She murmurs her agreement, but she’ll never remember me leaving so I scribble a quick note on the pad on the desk. I grab my wallet and room key and slip quietly out the door.

  Rob is already waiting for me in the lobby. He smiles at me in greeting. “Morning.”

  “Good morning.” I return his friendly grin. “You know you don’t have to walk me. My ankle is feeling much better.”

  “It’s all good. I want to get a bagel anyway. Might as well go together.”

  “Okay.” I open the door. I’m already running late, and even though my ankle feels better, it’s still not great.

  We begin winding through the stone walkways toward the café. Rob lets me lean on him as my ankle fatigues. I’ve been pushing a little too hard in an effort to keep pace with him, and I’m grateful for the support.

  “Are you sure you going to be okay?” Rob asks as the café comes into view.

  “Yeah,” I say, as I walk alongside him.

  “I don’t know. You barely know him.” His voice is wary.

  I laugh. “Rob, what do you think he’s going to do to me? He’s a world-famous snowboarder, not someone I met off Craigslist.”

  “I still don’t like him.” He frowns. “He wants to get into your pants.”

  Funny. He said the same thing about you. “Rob, it’s fine. I’ll have my phone with me the whole time. And I’m meeting you guys for dinner.”

  “You know I don’t mind hanging out with you,” he says hopefully.

  “I know and I appreciate it. But you wasted your whole day with me yesterday. You didn’t pay all this money to sit in the ski lodge with me.”

  Rob’s family doesn’t have a lot of money, and this trip means a lot more to him. He worked extra shifts at our local pizza place and used all of his Christmas money to be able afford it.

  “Spending time with you is not a waste.” The sincerity in his voice takes me by surprise. As we approach the café he pauses to open the door for me.

  “Thanks.” I give him a small, sweet smile.

  I spot Anders immediately, seated in one of the side chairs with his legs sprawled wide in front of him. He’s dressed in black boarding pants and a dark maroon shirt. His coat is splayed on the chair next to him. In his hands he holds a cellphone that he is turning over aimlessly. He looks lost in a daydream, oblivious to the blatant stares and looks of admiration from the many female customers seated around the café.

  Seeing us approach, he stands up. A huge smile lights up his face when he sees me, but it falters a bit when he spots Rob. He quickly composes himself and says, “Gigs. You made it. Was worried you were going to stand me up.”

  “Gigs?” Rob mouths to me over Anders’s shoulder.

  I shake my head almost imperceptibly. “Morning,” I say around a yawn.

  “Ready to go?” Anders’s voice rises in excitement.

  “Coffee first.” I plead.

  “Okay, Gigs. Whatever you want.” He agrees easily.

  Rob remains standing behind Anders. He’s made no attempt to leave and I’m not sure if I should invite him to have coffee with us. It would be the polite thing to do, however awkward it may be. I kinda wish he would drop the big brother act and leave, but I can’t do that to him. He’s my friend and walked me all the way here. No one else even offered. “Rob, You wanna join us for a coffee?”

  “I’m sure Robbie has better things to do. Don’t ya, buddy?” Anders’s eyes narrow at him.

  Ignoring the question, Rob turns to me. “You gonna be okay, El?”

  “Yeah, thanks for walking me here. See ya later tonight?”

  He nods before giving Anders one last long, hard look.

  “See ya!” I call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.

  “Yep, totally wants to bang you.” Anders says matter of factly.

  “Shut up.” I swat at his arm, then I turn toward the counter. “Come on, I need coffee before I can fu
nction.”

  It’s not until after we sit down I realize that Rob never got his bagel.

  I follow Gigs to the counter where a bored looking barista greets us. I think Devon is his name, but I can’t quite make out his name tag. In all honestly I’m glad it’s him and not Veronica. I hooked up with her once, and even though I was one hundred percent clear that I don’t do relationships, she missed the message. She’s the reason why I usually avoid the café like the plague—I can’t stand clingy women.

  I angle myself in front of Gigs so I can place my order first and show my intent to pay for her. I think this is the gentlemanly thing to do, but it’s not like I have much experience. I order a medium black coffee and then gesture toward Gigs before adding, “…and whatever she wants.”

  “Anders, I can get my own coffee—”

  “Gigs, it’s fine. It’s just a coffee. Not like I can’t afford it.”

  She makes a face and I realize how arrogant my last comment sounded.

  “Full of ourselves much?” The sarcasm drips from her voice.

  I shrug and give her a cocky grin. She shakes her head, turns to Devon, and gives him her biggest smile. I don’t know why but it pisses me off beyond reason. And the returning look Devon gives her makes my blood flow even hotter.

  “Small coffee, light and sweet.” She smiles at him again.

  “Not sure if I can make it as sweet as you,” Devon murmurs.

  Gigs blushes and dips her head, and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever. And I pathetically wish that her smile were directed at me. Not. Fucking. Devon.

  Feeling an uncharacteristic burning surge of jealously sweep over me, I drape my arm around her shoulders to pull her close and say, “Nothing is as sweet as my baby.” I nuzzle her hair and catch a faint scent of raspberries from her shampoo.

  She stiffens in my embrace, but rather than let her go I pull her closer and run my hand along her upper arm. She glares at me and I reluctantly release her to pay the bill.

  “What was that?” She hisses as we make our way down the counter to wait for our coffees.

  “What?” I shrug.

  “You know what, Anders.”

  Goddamn, she’s angry. I don’t think I can ever recall a time a woman has been mad at me for touching her. Not touching? Oh yeah, plenty fit that bill. I smile at the irony and laugh despite myself.

  “You think it’s funny?” She is trying to be stern but her smile belies her.

  “Lighten up. I was just having fun, baby.” I smile at her again, but the smile dies on my lips when I see Veronica appear in front of us.

  She’s looking down but her whiny voice says, “Medium coffee, black.” She glances up as she sets it down on the counter and her eyes widen in recognition. Her gaze sweeps greedily over me and then to Gigs. Her eyes remain rooted on Gigs, and she appraises her more so than she does me.

  Fuck. What can I say that doesn’t scream hookup? “Veronica,” I say in way of greeting. That’s good, I think. Cool and neutral.

  “Vik,” she says sweetly. Too sweetly. Her saccharine attitude isn’t fooling anyone, most definitely not Gigs. She watches our exchange with a small smile on her face, and by her expression she knows exactly what went down between Veronica and me.

  Veronica places Gigs’s coffee down on the counter and says, “Light and sweet.”

  “Thanks,” Gigs says sincerely and turns to me.

  “So you’re…together?” Veronica’s voice is so quiet that I barely hear it above the hum of the coffee machines.

  She doesn't even finish the question before I agree. “Yes.” I shoot Gigs a pleading look and grab for her free hand. But the glint in her eyes tells me she isn’t going to play along.

  Gigs smiles at me sweetly, and then turns her head back to Veronica. “We have a very open relationship. In fact, one could say wide open. Isn’t that right, baby?” She squeezes my hand and I squeeze back rather forcefully. I am going to kill her.

  Veronica’s eyes light up and circle back round to find my own. “Oh. Maybe gimme a call sometime…?” Her voice goes all soft and quiet at the end.

  I shrug noncommittally, because really, I have no intention of calling her. Ever. I gesture at Gigs. “We should go.”

  Veronica looks at Gigs again, although I don’t know if it’s in envy or heartbreak. I could care less. I want to get the hell out of here.

  “Anders.” Gigs rests her hand on my arm in attempt to halt our exit. She turns back to the counter. “Nice meeting you, Veronica.”

  Veronica gives her a quick smile before turning her smile back to me. “You too,” she murmurs as she nods her head. “See you around.”

  “Come on.” My voice is harsh as I lead Gigs to a table in the corner. The one farthest away from the counter. Farthest away from Veronica.

  She’s still laughing when she plops down in the chair.

  “You think you’re funny?” I bite out.

  Her eyes sparkle with humor. “Lighten up. I was just having fun, baby.” Her tone is mocking.

  “Stop.” I say brusquely, but find myself matching Gigs’s smile. “That one is relentless. You have no idea.”

  “Poor Anders. I feel so sorry for you. Women falling at your feet. It must be such a rough life. However do you survive?” She places her hand against her heart as she asks the question and my eyes are instantly drawn to her chest. Even through her thick coat, I can imagine the outline of her breasts, their shape, her pebbled nipples straining against the fabric. Dying for me to—“So where are you taking me today?” She draws me from my private fantasy.

  Somewhat startled, I respond, “Huh?” What is it with this girl? I can’t fucking think straight.

  “You? Me? Snowmobiling?” She gestures between us then motions to the outside. “That is the plan right? Because I have enough layers on to survive the North Pole.”

  At that I smile. She is dressed rather warm. She looks strikingly similar to the very first day that I met her. The day that I so lovingly referred to her as Michelin. I cannot resist the urge to tease her. “I noticed. How many pairs of gloves this time? Seven? Eight?”

  “Ha, ha.” She says dryly. “Only one.” She smiles around her coffee cup.

  My eyebrow arches in question.

  “All right. Fine. Three, but I can’t help it. I swear I’m cold-blooded. Growing up in the south will do that to you, I guess.”

  “You grew up in the South? Not just there for school?” I tilt my head. “No accent?”

  “I moved to North Carolina when I was thirteen, after my parents split, so I guess I was old enough to not pick up the accent.”

  “Could you speak with one if you wanted to?”

  She draws her eyes to me. “Well I’ll say, Anders,” she drawls, mimicking a southern accent. She goes to continue, but begins to laugh.

  “That was pretty impressive.” I chuckle with her.

  “Just one of my many talents.” She winks at me.

  I stare at her a beat. Was there innuendo in her remark? And that wink? Sexy as hell. I’m about to ask her about her other talents but she continues. “Besides, you’re not one to judge. You have an accent. Your accent is—”

  “Sexy,” I cut in, and give her my most charming smile.

  “I was going to say distinct.”

  “Really?” My eyes light up with a small smile. “I don’t have an accent.”

  She laughs. “Serious? You definitely do.”

  “What?” I question again, just to rile her up. I know I have an accent, even after six years of living in the U.S.

  “I don’t know.” She glances away and then back to me. “It’s more noticeable with some words, like when you say ‘you’, it’s more like ‘vyou’. I can’t describe it.”

  I laugh. Relaxing my mouth, letting my accent strengthen, I say, “Vreally? You should hear me say “salmon” and “aluminum.” Those words are fucking killers.”

  She laughs. “Salmon. Aluminum. Not hard.”

  “Show off.” We
both chuckle.

  “So where are you from exactly? I’m thinking Germany?”

  “Nope. Thought you did your research?”

  “I guess it wasn’t as thorough as I thought. So…” Her voice trails off.

  “Norway.”

  “Close enough.”

  “Seriously?” I lift one eyebrow. “I may have to teach you a thing or two about geography.”

  “Good luck with that.” She smiles. “I suck at geography.”

  “You can’t be that bad.”

  “Trust me. In eighth grade geography class, Mrs. Chavers called each of us to the map to label world countries. I mistakenly labeled Ireland as a country in Africa. Africa, Anders!”

  At that I burst out laughing. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad.”

  “Tell me about it. It was humiliating.”

  I take another sip of my coffee, and an easy silence settles between us. After a while, she puts her cup down and leans forward. “What’s Norway like?”

  I respond without thought. “Beautiful.”

  She takes another sip of her drink. “You must miss it.”

  “Yes and no. The glaciers, the coast, the fjords, it’s indescribable. You would love it there.”

  “Sounds amazing.”

  “And the food. I haven’t had Multekrem in ages.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Only the best dessert ever. Fresh cream and berries…” As if on my cue my stomach grumbles loudly. “Actually let’s not talk about it. It’s sweet torture knowing I can’t have it.”

  She laughs.

  “Boarding at Hafjell Park is what I miss most. Did my first run there when I was seven. My dad was so proud when I made it down the first slope without falling. I was damn proud, too.”

  I glance at Gigs, and the way she’s staring at me makes me uncomfortable. Her eyes are warm, her smile easy. How the hell did this turn into a heart-to-heart? I never talk about my childhood or Norway, but there’s something about her. She’s very easy to talk to. I feel like I’ve known her my whole life.

  I clear my throat. “So… you about ready?” I stand and turn to toss my empty cup into the nearest trash.