“Purple frosting?” you ask the next time you and Ravi are next to each other.
“It’s Hannah’s favorite color,” he said. “So anyway, Princess Hannah wanted this doughnut really badly. It’s all she thought about, day and night. Her mother, the queen, invited bakers from all over the land to make her daughter the perfect doughnut. But Princess Hannah rejected them all. ‘Not sweet enough!’ Hannah said to one. ‘Not purple enough!’ she said to another. ‘Not sprinkly enough!’ she said to a third. All of the bakers in the kingdom came, baked, and left, and not one had been able to create the doughnut of Hannah’s dreams. ‘I don’t know what to do!’ Hannah said while she was visiting her royal pony. ‘My life will not be complete without that doughnut!’ The boy who helped take care of the horses overheard her. ‘Maybe you should try to make it yourself,’ he said. Princess Hannah was shocked. She had never thought of that. But she liked the idea very much. So she went to the royal kitchen and read the royal cookbooks and started making doughnuts. The first ones were terrible. Too salty. So she added sugar. The second ones looked too blue. Then there weren’t enough sprinkles. And then they were too big. Then too small. Princess Hannah spent all day and all night in the kitchen for weeks. Until finally she made the doughnut of her dreams. It was sweet and purple and covered in sprinkles. It was perfect. And Princess Hannah knew that it was extra special because she’d made it herself. The end.”
You stop next to Ravi and clap your gloves. “That was great,” you say. “I bet Hannah loved it.”
“She did,” he said. “And it helped her to push through when she was having trouble reading. I told her reading a book was just like making the perfect doughnut.”
You wonder if he chose that story to tell you because he didn’t want you to give up, either. Regardless, it certainly took your mind off the steepness of the slope, and for that you’re grateful.
You ski down to meet Ravi once more. “Hey, look,” he says. “There’s the bottom!”
It’s still pretty steep, but there’s not much left—maybe about ten feet or so, and then it flattens out.
“I think I can probably ski the rest from here,” you tell him. “Meet you at the end?”
He nods. “You go first. I’ll follow, just in case you need some help along the way.”
You smile and start skiing slowly down the rest of the mountain. You stop after a few feet and turn your head. Ravi’s right behind you. He waves his ski pole to say hi. You wave yours back.
It’s still slow going, but you make it to the end and relief rushes through you.
Ravi stops next to you, and you can’t help it—you throw your arms around him.
“Thank you,” you say to Ravi. “I seriously would still be up there if it weren’t for you.”
“No problem,” he answers, smiling down at you.
Your eyes lock with his and, as improbable as it seems, considering what a lame scaredy-cat you’ve been and considering the fact that he doesn’t really know you very much at all, you think he’s about to kiss you. You’re not completely sure how you feel about that.
Click here if you go in for the kiss.
- - - - -
Click here if you decide not to.
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to moguling on your own.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You decide not to think, not to feel, just to do. After all, thinking is what got you into trouble on Monoceros. You lean toward Ravi, and he closes the gap between you, his lips warm against yours. Your hug tightens and he kisses you harder, his teeth scrape lightly along your bottom lip, making you shiver. You wonder if he wants to spend the rest of the day helping you kiss just like he helped you ski. You want to ask him, but you don’t want to break off kissing him. So instead you pull him closer. Sometimes it’s better not to talk. And this absolutely seems like one of those times.
Maybe Princess Hannah’s doughnut metaphor works with boys, too. And maybe you’ve found your perfect purple doughnut right here on Monoceros.
CONGRATULATIONS!
You’ve found your happy ending!
Click here to go back to skiing on the steep slope.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You decide you have nothing to lose by letting them join you for lunch, so you smile and say, “Sure.” Bandanna sits across from you, and Buzz Cut sits next to him.
“I’m Leo,” Buzz Cut says, sticking out his hand.
“And I’m his twin brother, Sam,” Bandanna says, waiting his turn to shake your hand.
You introduce yourself and notice that both times they’ve spoken to you so far, Sam has finished Leo’s sentence. You wonder if they’ll do this all through lunch.
Leo takes a bite of his burger and then wipes his fingers on Sam’s napkin.
“Did you just get meat juice on my napkin?” Sam asks. “You know how I feel about meat.” He turns to you. “I’m vegan.”
“I’m not,” Leo says, looking at your lunch. “And I guess you’re not, either.”
“It might be veggie chili,” Sam says. “Is it?”
“I think so,” you tell him.
He pushes his bandanna back on his head. “Have you read about the way animals are treated before they’re slaughtered? My friend gave me Fast Food Nation, and now I can’t do it. Chicken, cow, pig—anything that comes from them.”
“That’s why I didn’t read the book,” Leo says. “I didn’t want to know. And besides, I really like how meat tastes.”
“But the antibiotics!” Sam says, peeling his banana. “And the living conditions!”
“I don’t want to hear about it while I’m eating a burger,” Leo says, taking another huge bite.
“One of these days, I’ll convert you,” Sam says. “I swear I will.”
“Never,” Leo says, gulping a mouthful of Gatorade.
“Ever?” Sam says back. He looks slightly pained.
You’re enjoying being a spectator during this conversation. They seem like they should have their own reality TV show or something.
Leo’s eyes twinkle a little. “How about if you agree to go skydiving with me, then I’ll read your stupid book.”
Sam pales. “Mom said you can’t go until we’re eighteen anyway.”
Leo shrugs with his mouth full of french fries. “So we wait a year,” he says after he swallows. “I can wait.”
You’re doing your best not to laugh. Truly, they should have a TV show. Or maybe a podcast.
“I think we’re being terrible tablemates.” Sam turns away from his brother toward me. “So,” he says, “would you ever go skydiving?”
To be honest, you’ve never thought about it before, but you think that, given the right situation, you might. At least, you wouldn’t say no right away.
“Maybe,” you tell the brothers.
“My brother’s an adrenaline junky,” Sam tells you as he eats his salad.
“I am,” Leo admits, popping another fry into his mouth. “I ski double blacks, I rock climb, I surf—and on our family vacation last year, I bungee jumped. It was the most incredible feeling. The sensation of falling like that, knowing in your head that you’re attached to a cord, but it’s, like, your body doesn’t understand that. It’s fantastic.”
You originally thought Leo was a bit mean to his brother about the whole meat business, but now you think there might be something kind of crazy-wonderful about him.
“And you?” you ask Sam. He shakes his head. “No bungee for me. I spent that same family vacation sketching. Then when we got home, I did some paintings of the waterfalls and the beaches we saw.” He pulls a sketchbook out of his pocket. “Sometimes when I’m skiing, I stop and ske
tch the trees or the snow or the people on the trail. That’s why I like the longer flatter ones. The greens and blues mostly.”
He pulls a tiny pencil out from the side of the sketchbook and starts drawing quickly. When he’s done, he turns the paper toward you.
“Recognize her?” he asks.
You look at the girl he’s drawn, the shape of her eyebrows, the curve of her lips. “That’s me!” you say.
He does that eye-crinkling smile and nods.
You’re pretty impressed. Both these brothers are cool, but in different ways.
Leo takes the last bite of his brownie, and you rip off a final piece of your bread bowl.
“You ready to go, bro?” Leo asks, piling his wrappers and napkins onto the middle of his tray.
“Almost,” Sam answers, swallowing the end of his banana. “We don’t ski together,” he tells you. “But we always meet up for lunch and then leave the lodge together. It’s our good-luck tradition. Listen, we didn’t ask what kind of trails you like to ski, but if it’s blues and greens, you’re welcome to join me for the afternoon.”
Leo clears his throat. “And if it’s double blacks, you’re welcome to join me.”
You look at both brothers as you stand up with your tray of trash. It could be interesting to spend the afternoon with one of them, but which one? You like to ski blues, greens, and double blacks.
Click here if you go with Leo.
- - - - -
Click here if you go with Sam
- - - - -
Click here if you decide you’d rather not go with either brother--it’s too hard to choose!
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to ordering lunch in the lodge.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You tell the boys that you’re really sorry, but you’re saving the table for your sister and cousins, and they leave to find a table somewhere else. You feel a little bit bad about lying, but brothers just seemed like too much to handle at the moment.
You eat your chili, savoring the spice on your tongue, and look around the lodge to see if there are any other boy possibilities. You notice someone over by the fire whose leg is in a cast. He has it propped up on the coffee table on a couch pillow and is reading a book. You stand up slightly to get a better look. From your new angle, you can see that the book is Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and that the boy looks as if he’s about your age and is at least seven flavors of sexy. He has dark ringlets, long eye-lashes, and a smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose. Part of you is intrigued and wonders what happened to him, but the other part thinks maybe you should just get back on the slopes. You didn’t come on vacation to sit in the lodge talking to a boy with a broken leg . . . or did you?
Click here if you’re curious enough to go over and ask.
- - - - -
Click here if you decide to head back to the slopes.
- - - - -
Don’t like your options?
Click here to go back to ordering lunch in the lodge.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You look over at Leo. You think that probably he would be the more fun brother to ski with. And also the most likely to kiss you—that whole risk-taking thing.
“Sorry, Sam,” you say. “But I’m more into the double blacks.”
Then you turn to Leo. “But nothing too steep. I don’t mind anything else, but steep scares me.”
“That’s why it’s so much fun!” he says. “But I promise I won’t make you ski anything you don’t want to ski.”
“Deal,” you say, and put out your hand. He shakes it.
Meanwhile, Sam is zipping his pencil and sketchbook back into his jacket. “See you when the lifts close,” he says to his brother. “And nice to meet you,” he says to you.
You and Leo put your gear back on, snap into your skis, and head toward the gondola. It packs about eight people in it and takes you to the very top of the mountain.
You’re smooshed against a window with Leo’s leg pressed against yours, and you can feel the muscles shift beneath his ski pants. “You’re strong,” you say. You’re not sure why you said it—it just popped out. But he laughs in response.
“I am,” he answers. “Rock climbing does that to a person.”
You’ve never rock climbed, never even thought about it, but now that you have, you wonder if you might like it. “What’s so great about it?” you ask.
Leo slides his goggles off. “You know the feeling you get,” he says, “when you’re skiing on a double black, and everything gels and you’re flying down the mountain and you feel strong and powerful and like you’ve overcome Mother Nature? Like you’re invincible?”
You do know what he’s talking about. You haven’t felt that feeling very often, but once in a while . . . yeah. “Mm-hmm,” you answer.
“That’s what rock climbing feels like. You and your body are beating Mother Nature. Mountains can’t stop you—you’re stronger than mountains.”
“That sounds fantastic,” you say. You find yourself staring at his lips as he talks. The way he purses them to say mountains is incredibly hot.
“It is,” he answers. “It absolutely is.”
A couple of moments later the gondola stops, and you pile out with everyone else, grabbing your skis from the side as quickly as possible. You hoist them onto your shoulder along with your poles, and Leo does the same with his gear. Then he looks over at you and reaches his hand out. You grab it and the two of you hold hands as you walk to the area near the trail map, where everyone is snapping into their skis and boards.
“You know,” Leo says. “There’s one other thing that gives me that same kind of rush. That makes me feel like I’m invincible.”
“Really?” you ask, wanting to keep him talking. “What is it?” The m’s in “same” and “makes” were just as sexy as “mountain.”
“This,” he says, as he pulls you closer to him. Your skis slide to the ground as you let your body mold to Leo’s. His lips are against yours now, and for a moment they’re cold; then they warm up from the heat of yours. Leo’s goggles bang against your goggles until he tilts his head slightly, and then you close your eyes and relax into him.
After a while he pulls away slightly. “Invincible?” he asks.
“Invincible,” you answer.
You get the feeling that he’s not the sort of guy you’ll see again after today, but you also get the feeling that you won’t really care. You’ll have a whole afternoon of feeling invincible. It might not be love on the lifts, but it sure feels wonderful.
CONGRATULATIONS!
You’ve found your happy ending!
Click here to go back to eating lunch with the twins in the lodge.
- - - - -
Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.
You’re not feeling the daredevil thing at the moment, but you wouldn’t mind some company on the slopes this afternoon. Especially if it’s company that might lead to kissing.
“Sorry, Leo,” you say. “The double blacks might be a bit much for me this afternoon. But Sam, I’d be happy to join you for a run or two.”
“No problem,” Leo says.
“And we’ll have fun,” Sam finishes. “Will you keep your eyes out for anything beautiful I should stop to sketch?”
“Sure thing,” you tell him.
The two of you get your gear sorted out and head out of the lodge with Leo.
“So I was thinking,” Sam says, “we could go up to the top and take Eridanus all the way down.”
You nod. Eridanus is the longest, most ramble-y run on the mountain. It probably takes about twenty minutes to ski down. “S
ounds good to me.”
You and Sam grab your skis and poles and then walk over to the gondola that takes you to the top of the mountain. You put your skis in an outside compartment and then climb in with six other people. You end up sitting across from Sam. He pulls off his gloves and takes his sketchpad and pencil out of his pocket. Since he seems absorbed in his drawing, you look out the window.
The mountain really is gorgeous, with icicles hanging from the trees and snow blanketing everyone and everything. If someone were looking for a place to film a movie about skiing, this place would be perfect, you decide.
You turn to say that to Sam, but his fingers are moving quickly across his paper, so instead you lean over to see what he’s drawn. It’s you looking out the window, and now he’s working on the view beyond. You see how he made your nose strong and your eyelashes long and dark. You wonder if you really look like that, or if he’s changing your appearance a little to make the picture better.
“Should I go back to looking out the window?” you ask him.
Sam looks up at you and smiles. “It’s okay, you can watch now. I got you already,” he says. “But . . . wait . . .”
He takes his finger and smudges it against the pencil lines that made up your hair, softening them a little. “That’s better,” he says. He looks from you to his drawing. “You’re beautiful,” he tells you.
The person next to you in the gondola has stopped talking to the person next to her and turns to you. “Does your boyfriend draw you a lot?” she asks. “That’s so romantic.”
“He’s not—” you start to say, but then the gondola stops and everyone rushes to get out and grab their skis and boards from the compartments.
Sam has put his sketchbook and pencil away and is snapping his boots into his ski bindings. You do the same, and the two of you start skiing, slowly, toward Eridanus. Once you hit the trail, you start to speed up, but you realize Sam isn’t doing the same, so you slow down until he catches up with you again.
“If I go too fast, I can’t tell if there’s something I should stop to draw,” he tells you.
Love on the Lifts Page 6