Love on the Lifts
Page 5
Archie bounces back down onto the floor, barks at Jake, jumps up and licks you again, and then returns to the floor.
“What is it, boy?” Jake asks as Archie repeats the routine for a second time and then barks again at Jake.
You look at the dog, and then you look at Jake, who is bent down and trying to have an earnest discussion with Archie. It’s so cute you can barely stand it.
“This might sound crazy,” you say, “but could Archie be telling you that you should give me—”
“A kiss?” Jake finishes, standing up next to you.
You shrug.
The minute Jake steps closer, Archie stops barking and walks away, as if to say, “My work here is done.”
“I think so,” you tell Jake, looking at the blue of his eyes.
“Smart dog,” Jake says, locking his eyes on yours.
“Very,” you tell him, taking a step closer.
And then Jake’s mouth is on yours, and it feels soft and warm and so totally right. Who needs that jerk Nate when you can kiss a beautiful boy who rescues you from snowdrifts and has conversations with animals? You weren’t happy when your ski flew off on the mountain, but now you’re pretty sure it was fate.
Jake breaks off the kiss to say, “Wow,” and then his lips are on yours again, and you wonder if you should text Angie to say that you might not be home so soon after all.
CONGRATULATIONS!
You’ve found your happy ending!
Click here to go back to skiing on your own.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over
You’re feeling totally fine, and you don’t like the fact that Jake has invited you to his place already—even if it’s under the guise of meeting his dog. You actually might like to kiss him, but you feel as if going to his apartment is too much way too soon. So you thank him for saving you and decide to keep skiing. You’re about to head over to the chairlift when you see a sign. It reads:
SKI LESSONS
Beginning, Intermediate, Advanced, Expert
Every hour, on the hour
You look at your watch and realize a lesson is about to start in five minutes. You also realize that the instructor standing under the ADVANCED sign is by himself. And is all kinds of cute. He has dreadlocks poking out the back of his helmet, and you can tell that beneath his ski clothes, he’s got a long, lean, muscular body. Maybe you should take a lesson. Especially after your fall. This might not be a bad idea at all. Then again, it might be nice to have some more time to ski by yourself, too.
Click here if you decide to take a ski lesson.
- - - - -
Click here if you pass and choose to keep going to the mogul mountain.
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to meeting Jake on the mountain.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You jump onto the singles line at the chairlift. Everyone else is in groups of two, so you get to skip the longer line and have a lift to yourself. Honestly, this skiing-alone thing has its perks. You watch the people skiing below you and enjoy the way the sun feels on your nose. The ride is a bit of a long one, so you stick your poles under your legs and relax against the back of the lift, enjoying the quiet. The snow is falling softly, and you feel a bit as if you’re in a snow globe.
You see the end of the lift in sight and get ready to unload.
Click here to continue.
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to skiing with Angie.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the slopes when you notice red parka guy.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You fasten your boots, pull on your turtle fur, zip up your jacket, clip on your helmet, slide down your goggles, and slip on your gloves. Now you’re ready to brave the weather. You head outside into a gust of frigid wind and shiver for a second until your body adjusts to the temperature. Then you snap your boots into your skis, grab your poles, and head off to the chairlift.
The first person you see once you get there is that same guy in the red jacket from before, and he’s smiling at you. You can’t believe it’s him again. Is fate telling you talk to him, or are you just being silly? You’re not sure.
Click here if you ski up to him and ask him if he needs a lift partner.
- - - - -
Click here if you smile back, but decide to hightail it over to another chairlift that leads to harder trails.
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to sitting with Angie in the lodge.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to eating in the lodge when you spot Harry Potter guy.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the lodge after you say no to eating with the twins.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You smile back at him but decide that you’ve already passed him over once, and you don’t want to double back. Today’s kiss challenge is all about moving forward, and that’s what you’re going to do, no matter what.
You ski down the mountain a short way to a smaller chairlift that leads to harder trails, and you decide you’re happy with your decision.
Click here to continue.
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to the slopes when you notice red parka guy.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You go toward the counter and wait in line while you peruse the menu. It has the usual ski lodge food: hamburger, chicken tenders, pizza, cheese fries, nachos, vegetable soup, house salad, grilled cheese, and, your personal favorite, chili in a bread bowl. You get to the front and place your order, adding in a water for hydration and a cookie because why not. The girl behind the counter fills up a tray for you, and you wobble with it over to the cashier and then look around the room for an empty table. The main trouble with skiing—and eating—by yourself is that there’s no one to scout tables while you wait for food.
Finally, you spot an empty table in a corner and wobble over to it as quickly as you can. You put down your tray and remove as much outdoor clothing as possible; otherwise, you’ll end up feeling like an overstuffed teddy bear when you eat, unable to get your arms to go all the way up or down.
Just as you’re taking off your jacket, two boys come toward your table carrying trays. They look kind of the same, but one has a buzz cut and the other has brown hair long enough to curl over the collar of his jacket. It’s held back with a green bandanna that blends nicely with his green eyes. Both of their green eyes.
“Hey,” the non-bandanna guy says. You look at his tray and see a cheeseburger, fries, Gatorade, and a brownie.
“Would you mind if we joined you?” the bandanna guy says. His tray has vegetable soup, a salad, a bottle of water, and a banana.
The boys are exactly the same height, and when they smile at you, the corners of their eyes crinkle in the exact same way. You figure that they must be identical twins with non-identical haircuts and taste in food. They’re both actually pretty cute, but you didn’t really mind sitting alone. Twins might be complicated to handle—but then again, they might also present you with two kissing possibilities instead of just one.
Click here if you say yes.
- - - - -
Click here if they seem like too much trouble.
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to sitting with Angie in the lodg
e.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to drinking hot chocolate in the lodge with Charlie.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You decide that if you were going to kiss someone, Ravi would be a good person to kiss. But you don’t think you’re ready. You disengage from the hug.
“Thank you again,” you say. “I’m definitely staying off Monoceros for the rest of my trip.”
Ravi shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “I bet you could do it.”
You shake your head. “I think I’m going to give Serpens a try instead,” you say, naming a flatter, curvier trail.
“Sounds like a plan,” Ravi says. “I’m going to head back up to Monoceros. It was nice to meet you.”
Click here to continue.
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to skiing on the steep slope.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You decide that kissing doesn’t matter. At least not at the moment.
“Sure,” you say. “I’m up for another trip down Taurus.”
“Lovely,” Laurent says. “Would you like to race? We can be like two corks, flying out of champagne bottles, seeing who lands first.”
You smile at Laurent’s very proper grammar and his absurd image of the two of you as flying corks. You would never in a million years use a champagne cork to describe a race.
“She can smile!” Laurent says, grinning himself. “I wasn’t sure if it was possible.”
You try to think over your interactions with Laurent. Had you been especially frown-y? You didn’t mean to be.
“Was I upset before?” you ask.
“Maybe you seemed a little sad,” he says.
“Maybe I was a little sad,” you tell him. “Recent ex-boyfriend troubles.”
He puts his gloved hand on your forearm, and somehow there’s something very comforting about that. “Well, he must have been an idiot.”
“Unfortunately, I think you’re probably right,” you say. Unbidden, the picture of Nate kissing that freshman girl pops into your head. But weirdly, it doesn’t make you as upset as it had just yesterday.
“And now?” he asks. “Are you still sad now?”
“Now . . . now I think I’m okay,” you answer. “Or at least I will be.”
“Time,” he says, “heals a lot.”
You can tell by the way he says it that he’s speaking from personal experience.
“Has time healed you?” you ask.
“Very much so,” he says. “Time and life and the universe. The only way to live is by living and the only way to love is by loving, and sometimes things that seem impossible to handle at first end up being perfectly fine. More than fine even.”
You put your hand on Laurent’s arm this time. “Thank you,” you tell him.
What Laurent is saying makes you realize that there’s so much more out there. So many more people to meet and so many more things to experience. There’s lots to do besides worry about a jerky high school guy who didn’t treat you right.
The chairlift slows to a stop, and you and Laurent get off.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“Never been readier,” you tell him.
And the two of you take off like champagne corks. Even if you didn’t find someone to kiss, you think that perhaps you discovered something even more important today. And it took making a new, awesome friend to show you that.
CONGRATULATIONS!
You’ve found your happy ending!
Click here to go back to moguling on your own.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
After some careful consideration, you decide you’d rather go off in search of a kissing possibility. There’s no guarantee you’ll fall in love on the lifts, but you feel like you owe it to yourself to try. Or at least you owe it to Angie.
You go up and down a few different trails so you can work your way over to the gondola lift. You’re crammed in with a family—mom, dad, three kids, and a set of grandparents. You wonder if your parents will one day ski with you and your kids if you have some. They used to ski with you and Angie—until she turned thirteen and you turned twelve and you both petitioned them to ski just the two of you.
Once you reach the top of the mountain, you decide to choose the steepest slope there is, Monoceros. It’s not one that you usually ski when you’re here, but you and Angie did it once at the end of last season. It was tough, but you’d made it to the bottom.
You ski over to the top of the trail and look down. And swallow hard. You’d forgotten how sheer the drop looked from up here. It seems as if it’s perpendicular to the base of the mountain. You take a deep breath. You’ve done this before; you can do it again. You start slowly and go a few feet, but you feel as if you’re going to fall. You hear your heart beating in your ears and feel your palms go sweaty in your gloves. You need Angie. You need someone. You’re not going to be able to get down this mountain. You swallow again and try once more, but the panic takes over. You stop, stock-still, your skis sideways so you won’t slide. Your heart is racing, and you’re starting to feel a little dizzy.
For a moment you consider taking your skis off and walking down the mountain, but, to be honest, that seems as if it might be even more dangerous with such a steep slope, especially wearing ski boots. You remember that ages ago your dad said you could always slide down a mountain on your butt if you got too scared or it got too hard. You haven’t used that advice ever, but there’s a first time for everything. You consider it and think it might be your best course of action.
But then someone skis up next to you. It’s a guy wearing a light blue jacket and charcoal ski pants. His mouth is covered by a black scarf, so all you can see is his nose poking out from under his goggles. Even in your panicked state, you admire his nose. It’s kind of regal.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
You take a deep breath. “Actually,” you tell him, “I thought I could get down this trail, but I freaked out. It’s really steep. And now I’m not sure what to do. I was thinking about taking off my skis and sliding down on my butt.”
He says something, but it’s muffled.
“What did you say?” you ask.
He pulls his scarf down so you can see his lips—they’re extra pink from the cold. “I said that’s a long way to go on your butt. But . . . I have an idea. I’ve been tutoring first graders for a high school community service project, and, well, not that you’re a first grader, but . . . can I give something a try? I’m Ravi, by the way.”
You introduce yourself and say, “Ravi, I’m willing to give anything a try.”
“Great,” he says, nodding. “Don’t move.”
He skis a little so he’s maybe ten feet below you and slightly to your left. “Can you ski to me?” he asks.
You’re pretty sure you can ski that far, and you do, stopping right next to him. “Okay, great,” he says, skiing about twenty feet in front of you this time, a little to your right. “Can you ski to me here?”
You can handle that, too.
He goes down in front of you about fifty feet. “How about here?”
The panic starts again. You shake your head. “Not there,” you say. “It’s too steep to go that far.”
“Okay,” he says. “No problem.”
He sidesteps up the mountain until he’s about thirty feet away from you. “Here?” he asks.
You nod. The distance doesn’t look so bad, so you ski to him.
“Great,” he says. “We’re just going to do that the whole way down.”
Slowly, stopping every thirty feet, Ravi gets you moving down
the mountain.
“You must be a great tutor,” you tell him, as you stop next to him for what must be the tenth time.
He shrugs. “The kids seem to like me,” he says. “And I helped a few of them learn to read. Basically the same way I’m helping you ski, putting small groups of letters together into bigger words.”
“Do you want to be a teacher?” you ask him.
He nods. “I hope so. A teacher, then a principal, and then maybe someone who can help develop curriculum or work on education policy.”
“That’s pretty awesome,” you tell him. You haven’t figured out exactly what you want to do yet, so you’re always extra impressed with people who have.
As you move down the mountain, Ravi tells you about the first graders he works with—about Aiden, who loves reading about animals, and Hannah, who only likes books about princesses.
“There weren’t a lot in the classroom,” he says, “so I wrote her some. Objectively, they’re not very good, but she loved them so that’s all that matters.”
He wrote books about princesses for a little first grader? That’s maybe the cutest thing you’ve ever heard. You wish you could read one of them, and you tell that to Ravi.
He laughs, but you insist.
“I guess I could tell you the story of the princess who wanted a doughnut,” he says. “But like I said, objectively they’re really not very good.”
“I would be honored to hear about the the princess who wanted a doughnut,” you say, as you ski to him once more.
So as you ski down the mountain in small bits, Ravi tells you the story.
“One upon a time,” he says, and then interrupts himself. “You know, all good stories have to start with ‘Once upon a time.’”
You laugh. “Absolutely,” you tell him.
He continues.
“So, once upon a time, there was a princess who wanted a doughnut. She imagined the doughnut in her head. It was sugary and sweet and covered with purple frosting and yellow sprinkles.”