by Joey Bush
“How you feeling?” Jaxon asked me, coming up from behind while I looked over the slopes. We were all going to get a practice run on the different tracks and the half pipe; but for now the earlier arrivals were shredding away.
“A little nervous, but more excited,” I told him, smiling slightly. My heart was beating faster in my chest, but I knew I could get through the day. I had been to competitions before; this was just another, bigger competition. I looked down at the team jersey I’d put on over my warm clothes and gear. It felt good to be part of a team.
“You’ll be great. Just watch your landing out of that power method.” I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah sure. You make sure to come out of your nuclear in time instead of rolling down the hill.”
I did my practice run and focused on just getting a feel for the conditions. The slope was steeper than the mountain near Jaxon’s dad’s place—but the powder was good, and the half-pipe was really well-done too. I started to feel jittery, but I knew that it would pass. People started to really fill the stands, and I stopped drinking coffee, switching to water and hot tea; I didn’t want to have to pee all morning, but I needed to stay hydrated.
When Jaxon went up for his first run, I shouted out a “Good luck up there!” to him, just like a good sister should, and he raised his hand to wave back to me. I would be on half-pipe first; but I watched him as he went up to the top of the slope. I cheered when the announcer called out his name and number, and everyone else with me—the whole team, except for the people who were in staging, scheduled to go up after Jaxon or at the same time on another part of the course—cheered as loud as they could. I watched Jaxon and laughed as I realized that he wasn’t just not paying attention to the coach’s advice; he was throwing it completely out the window. He did every flashy trick he could going through the course, and there were a couple of times that I was actually scared for him—really and truly scared. But he managed to come out unscathed, and managed to stick all his landings, the only important things.
I went out to the half-pipe to do my first run there. I felt nervous, but excited at the same time. Right before the starting buzzer, I took a deep breath. In spite of how excited and nervous I was, I couldn’t help thinking about Jaxon and how he’d done; he’d been really impressive. I barely came out of one of my grabs in time—but I managed to mostly land it. I shook it off and went for another pass, telling myself firmly to just focus on what I was doing. There was plenty of time to think about Jaxon later.
The day passed faster than I would have ever imagined; one of our team was on one of the courses at every single moment. There was barely enough time for me to grab food for my empty stomach in between watching the different members of my team competing; I told myself that I had to cheer just as loudly for the others as I did for Jaxon. After all, they all cheered for me. A few times I heard Jaxon cheering me on, catching his voice from the roar of the crowd. I knew he heard me, too—he looked at me every so often and grinned.
Jaxon’s strategy was obviously to go full-tilt. He threw himself into aerials and flips that he really probably shouldn’t have, and how he managed to land some of his tricks I had no idea. I thought I was good, but either because I was distracted or because I was nervous, I flubbed the occasional aerial, or didn’t quite catch my board the right way in a grab. I hated it every single time I messed up, but I didn’t have time to beat myself up about it. I just had to tell myself I would hit it harder, land it better, and go through cleaner on the next run.
By the afternoon, we were all finished; the judges were tallying up the scores from the different events and all the teams milled around, talking to each other—trash talking, complimenting someone’s tricks, joking—while we waited to find out. I could feel my heart pounding; for a lot of us, it was going to be really close. It had gone so fast that I hadn’t even really kept track of my individual scores, so I had no real idea of how I’d done. My muscles were aching but I knew that I’d done the best I possibly could.
They started announcing the different events; Jaxon took home first in his division for half-pipe, slopestyle, and even the big air, so of course he’d gotten first place overall—and I cheered as loud and crazy as anyone on our team when he held up the trophy for division first place. We waited and waited, and finally it came to my division. My heart was pounding when they started announcing the winners for Half-pipe. I came in third on half-pipe, fourth place—honorable mention, which sucked the wind out of my sails—on big air, and second place on slopestyle; I tried not to be too bummed with a third place finish in my division as a whole. After all, I told myself, hauling my trophy back to the team, I’d been so distracted, especially in the aerial competition, that I should have by all rights ended up with a broken leg. I knew the coach would be talking to me about taking too many risks on the big air.
The rest of the team placed fairly well; one of the other girls got the third place win on the big air ahead of me, though she finished fourth overall in the competition, and one of the senior girls placed second overall. We’d managed to scrape through with enough points to be in contention for the next big tournament, which was all that really mattered, though Jaxon was, of course, the hero of the day. “Everyone over to the lodge!” one of the coaches called out as the audience started to filter out of the stands. “Celebration time!” I was exhausted but giddy and excited at the same time—there was no way I’d be able to sit on a bus for a few hours, so I was glad that we’d have some time to unwind first. I looked at Jaxon, pumping his trophy in the air, and laughed my ass off at him. At least one of us came out on top.
Chapter Eight
“Great job, Mia,” Alexis said, grinning at me as she wandered past me through the clubhouse, hot chocolate in hand.
“Yeah! They totally cheated you on that aerial competition—you should’ve gotten a solid second, not a thanks-for-playing third overall.” I shrugged it off. I knew I hadn’t been performing at my peak—but it was nice to think that at least someone on the team, even if they were biased, thought that I should have ranked higher. All of us were giddy, all of us were excited.
My manic energy started to deflate all of a sudden and I sat down near the fire, cradling my hot chocolate in my hands. I was happy, and I was pleased overall with how I’d placed, considering how far away my brain was from what I was doing, but I was bone-tired. I stared into my cup, smiling to myself, ready to go back to the dorms and curl up in my bed—maybe after a long, hot shower.
“Hey, why are you looking so down?” I looked up, blinking, to see Jaxon a few feet away. I shrugged, still smiling.
“Just tired, I guess,” I said. Jaxon sat down, nodding. He was a safe distance away from me, and he glanced around the room where the whole team was gathered, talking to each other, laughing—a few of the older kids on the team were having beers instead of hot chocolate, the coaches had Irish coffees.
“You did really well,” Jaxon told me. I laughed.
“I nearly broke my leg in that big air portion.” Jaxon shrugged.
“Yeah, but you didn’t! Third isn’t bad at all for your first real competition.”
“Says the hero!” I said, rolling my eyes. “The guy carrying the whole team. Where would we be without you, fearless one?” I felt the giddy feeling returning—the tingly, anticipating, excited feeling. Jaxon and I started to talk about strategy—for the team, for ourselves. Jaxon was clearly in the best standing; but we agreed that I should try for at least second overall in the next meet.
“The next one’s going to be a bigger comp, so it’ll be worth more, even if it’s technically going to count the same in standings,” Jaxon told me. “More press there, more sponsors, stuff like that. The points are the same, but if you do better there, you’ll get more notice, and so will the team.” Jaxon was going to try and make sure to get first again, if he could; though with a bigger field of competition, it would be tougher. We talked about tricks that we were going to work on—flashier aerials, things that
would bring in more points.
In spite of the fact that we were talking like normal friends, I could tell there was something weird between us. I was antsy, anxious. I wanted Jaxon to come closer, but I also wanted to run away. I tingled all over, and I couldn’t help noticing that Jaxon looked great in his new gear—which Bob had gotten him for Christmas. The longer we sat here talking, the more I felt myself responding to how hot he was. This was bad; I swallowed down the feeling of panic that came along with being attracted to Jaxon. I should get away. I should make an excuse and go talk to someone else, maybe even head back to the bus. Surely we’d be going back to campus soon—it was getting to be dark outside.
I started to slow down, to try and close down the conversation without being obvious about it. I didn’t want to even think about the reason why I needed to get away from him; I might blurt it out in front of everyone. And then everything would come undone. Finally, desperate to get away, I shifted off to the side, away from Jaxon. Instead of taking the hint, he just moved closer to me—closing even the distance that had been between us before, so he was only inches away from me instead of feet away. My heart was not just beating faster; it was pounding in my chest. “Mia,” Jaxon murmured. “God, Mia…” I was frozen in my spot. I knew I should get up and go talk to one of the other girls or guys on the team, but I couldn’t make myself do it.
“Jax…please.” Jaxon shook his head.
“I want you, Mia,” he told me, his voice still low, for my ears only. I looked around in a panic; no one was paying attention to us, but I could feel my whole body warming up and tingling. My cheeks were burning—I knew I was blushing bright red.
“Shh,” I told Jaxon, looking around again. “You can’t even seriously want to talk about this here in front of everyone.” Jaxon glanced around the room.
“It’s true, though,” he told me. His voice was still quiet, but more intense—almost desperate. “I do want you. I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
“Not now, Jaxon. We can’t do this now.” It would only be too easy for us to start talking and end up making out, right there in front of everyone. I could feel my body itching for it already—I had to get away from him without making a scene. Jaxon pressed his lips together and took a deep breath.
“Fine,” he said, glancing around the room again. “Not now. But we have to talk about this.” I sighed. All we’d done—in the last several weeks, anyway—was talk. We’d talked even while I was burning up for him, we’d talked when all I wanted to do was rip Jaxon’s clothes off and go down on him, or throw myself on top of him. But even though things had mostly gone back to normal on the surface, I knew I couldn’t just tell him no. We’d have to talk about it again.
“Okay. Fine. We’ll talk. But not here and not now.” Jaxon held me in his stare for a long moment before he nodded. I swallowed against the tight feeling in my throat and stood up quickly. Someone asked where I was going and I said in as cheerful a voice as I could muster that I’d been sitting too close to the fire and needed to get some air.
I knew it was a huge mistake. It couldn’t end any way but badly. Jaxon and me, alone together in a room somewhere—probably his room? I would barely need any encouragement at all to fall into him again, and completely undo everything we’d tried to accomplish by just being brother and sister to each other. It wasn’t fair. Standing outside, I almost hated Jaxon for pulling something like this on me when I’d just started to really get used to the way things were. But I couldn’t lie to myself; I hadn’t really and truly gotten over him. Things were still weird, still tense between us, even while we were pretending everything was okay. We’d have to have it out again.
Chapter Nine
I managed to put Jaxon off when we got back to campus from the tournament; I told him I was exhausted, just too tired to do anything but take a shower, get some dinner and go to sleep. When I started to walk away, I could tell pretty easily that he wasn’t willing to wait very long to have the conversation he wanted to have. I just didn’t know if I could deal with it. I didn’t know if I could manage to hold my ground and keep him from coming for me, if I could keep myself from just falling into his arms and letting him convince me.
I put him off a few days more, mostly by avoiding him. I knew it was silly; one way or another, Jaxon would end up having the talk he wanted to have, and I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever. I knew I couldn’t even avoid him for very long, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I was scared of what it would be like to actually be alone with him again. I knew that I hadn’t lost one little bit of my attraction to him since we’d been playing the role of brother and sister—though we hadn’t told anyone, or at least I hadn’t told anyone, that that’s what we were. In the back of my mind, I was still all twisted up, still all wrapped up in Jaxon. It was stupid, but it was the truth.
Jaxon seemed to realize that I needed a little space before we could have the conversation he wanted; I expected him to immediately call me out on avoiding him—going to class early, coming straight back to the dorm, not spending my free time in the frat house where he could waylay me. But instead of him texting or calling, he didn’t say anything about it, and I had to think that he was a little afraid of what being alone together would be like, too.
I thought about how miserable it had been when we’d been together; not because we were bad for each other, but because neither of our parents was even remotely okay with it. It had taken Mom weeks to be okay with me again, to talk to me like I was a normal person and the daughter she loved instead of some freak. Even at Christmas, everything had been incredibly tense, and I’d been waiting for someone to talk about the whole crazy situation—but none of us did. Everyone wanted to pretend it had never happened, that it had been some weird dream we’d all had.
And then there was the issue with our lives on campus. Everyone had fallen back into the normal state of things. Everyone just assumed that Jaxon and I had worked out whatever beef had been between us, since we hung out around each other and with each other—always around other people—without being weird or hinky. We acted the same way that we had before we’d ever had sex, at least on the surface. If we dredged up all the ugliness, all the insanity again, it would be the talk of the frat, at least behind our backs. Everyone would look at me differently. I wouldn’t just be one of the guys anymore. I hated that feeling. Even if Jaxon and I managed to talk together without ending up in bed, there’d be that tension again, and everyone would speculate about what the hell was going on between us. I hated the idea of it. I hated even thinking that it could be that way again.
I just wanted to be able to get over Jaxon, and have him get over me. I wanted to pretend like there was nothing between us other than friendship. I wished his stupid dad would just divorce my mom—and then I felt terrible, because Mom really was happy. She really loved Bob. She’d been alone for so long and it wasn’t fair to her after everything she’d sacrificed for me to expect her to throw it all away. But I couldn’t see any other way: either Mom and Bob breaking up, or Jaxon and me staying apart from each other. They wouldn’t tolerate us being together, and I couldn’t stand the idea of just pretending whenever we were around them.
The whole time I was trying to avoid Jaxon, in spite of him giving me space, I was miserable. I hung out with the guys whenever I knew Jaxon wouldn’t be around, though I didn’t say anything about it. I stayed in my room as much as possible even though I hated the fact that I was being such a coward. I’ve never been a coward in my life. I always threw myself head first into any fight, anything I was scared of; I wasn’t the girl to run away, I was the girl to jump in. I hated that the situation with Jaxon had made me so frightened of what could happen between us that I was actually avoiding him rather than just telling him point blank that there was nothing else we could do and if he couldn’t handle it we’d just have to not spend any time together at all.
That was impossible, though. We were both on the same team; we had to spend time together a
round our parents. If we hated each other, it would be just as bad as if we flaunted our feelings for each other in front of Mom and Bob. We couldn’t just ignore each other’s existence, and I couldn’t just avoid the conversation forever. We had to have it out again. I had to make Jaxon understand that no matter how much I wanted him and no matter how much he wanted me, we just couldn’t be together.
After three days, Jaxon called me. My classes were over for the day, and I realized when my phone rang that his were, too. He was free for the rest of the day and all night. It was time. “Hey,” I said, my heart already starting to beat faster. Part of my mind was ready, willing, and anxious even to be in the same room as him. Another part of my mind was completely terrified of the idea. There was no way this could end well.
“Frat’s empty—guys are all out at a game, or hitting a party at Sigma Delta.” I bit my bottom lip.
“You inviting me over?” My throat felt dry. I couldn’t turn him down; I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Yeah, come on by. We need to talk about things.” I took a deep breath.
“Okay. I’ll be there in twenty.” I hung up without even saying goodbye—I thought it would be stupid, seeing as how I was right about to see him. I brushed my hair, tied it back in a ponytail, and put on my shoes, taking as much time as I possibly could. The longer I took, the longer it would be until I had to deal with Jaxon. I told myself I was being stupid and that I should just go ahead and get it over with.