Love on the Lifts

by Jill Santopolo

  You smile, even though you wonder briefly if you’ve made the wrong choice. Too late now though. “No, definitely wouldn’t want that,” you say. “Have fun out there. And with the guys.”

  “Will do,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

  You wave good-bye as he leaves and decide that since you’re already in the lodge, you might as well grab yourself some lunch.

  Click here to continue.

  - - - - -

  Don’t like your options?

  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 look over at Angie, who’s resting her head on the back of the couch, and decide that you should probably spend the night with her.

  “My sister kind of got pummeled on the mountain,” you tell Orion. “I think tonight’s probably not the best night. But my family loves skiing here. I’ll be here for the whole week. Maybe I’ll run into you again?”

  Orion’s shoulders slump almost imperceptibly, but you notice it. “I understand,” he says. “But if you change your mind, the invitation stands. And people around here usually know where I am. So if you want to find me later this week, just ask anyone with a name tag on.”

  “I promise,” you tell him.

  Then you take the hot chocolates and head to Angie. You hand her hot chocolate over, lick the whipped cream off your thumb, and then sit down next to her with yours.

  Click here to continue.

  - - - - -

  Don’t like your options?

  Click here to go back to asking Orion to help you carry the hot chocolates.

  - - - - -

  Click here to go back to the beginning and start over

  Up close, there’s something about lightning bolt guy’s smile that reminds you a little too much of Nate. Maybe it’s the shape of his lips, or the way his bottom teeth show just as much as his top teeth do when he smiles. But whatever it is, you get a bad feeling and decide not to say anything. Instead, you take the jump once more and then ski off.

  Click here to continue.

  - - - - -

  Don’t like your options?

  Click here to go back to skiing on your own.

  - - - - -

  Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.

  When you get to the lodge, you head down to the basement room Orion told you about and end up following a few people in who look about your age. Only a couple of lights are on, and there are two guys with guitars standing on a makeshift stage in the corner playing a Beatles cover.

  You look around, trying to figure out what to do next when you feel someone touch your elbow. You turn, and Orion is standing there.

  “You’re here!” he says. He looks genuinely happy to see you, which makes you relax a little.

  “I am,” you say. “Now where’s that hot chocolate you promised me?”

  “Right this way,” he says, grabbing your hand and weaving you through a bunch of people until you get to a table set up with empty cups and urns filled with hot chocolate.

  “May I?” he asks.

  “Sure,” you say. Orion fills a cup for you and hands you the hot chocolate, steam wafting off the top.

  You take a sip and then another. “This is fantastic,” you tell him.

  “It’s my own special recipe,” he says. “My dad is thinking about adding it to the menu. Can you guess what’s in it?”

  You take a third sip. “Something . . . spicy?” you ask.

  He nods. Then bends over and whispers in your ear. “Cayenne pepper. But don’t tell!”

  You make an X over your sweater with your finger. “Cross my heart,” you say.

  The Beatles cover guys start to play a new song. It’s kind of slow and ballad-y.

  “‘The Fool on the Hill!’” Orion says. “I love this song. Want to dance?”

  This guy is full of surprises. A snowboarder who invents spicy hot chocolate recipes, whose dad owns a ski mountain, and who likes to slow dance to the Beatles? But he’s definitely interesting. You put your hot chocolate down on the table.

  “Sure,” you tell him again.

  He pulls you close to him. You realize you’re the only two people dancing at the party, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so you decide not to, either.

  Orion says something, and for a moment you think he’s talking to you, but when you look at him, you realize that he’s singing along with his eyes closed while swaying with you to the music. Something inside your heart softens a little bit, and you decide that he’s completely uncategorizable. Every time you think you’ve maybe figured out what kind of guy he is, he shows you another part of himself.

  “You have a beautiful voice,” you whisper to him.

  He opens his eyes and looks at you. “Thanks,” he says with a half grin. “Sometimes I sing with those guys. Come on.”

  He’s laced his fingers with yours and is weaving through the crowd again until you’re in front of the stage. “‘Blackbird’?” he yells up to the guys.

  “Come on up!” says the guy on the left, the one playing the bass guitar.

  Orion jumps up onto the stage and takes the mic. Then he starts singing, and his voice on that song is even more beautiful than it was when he was singing into your hair. It somehow sounds pure and clear—like if crystal could be a sound. Or stars. He sings like the stars.

  “Take these broken wings and learn to fly,” he sings, looking lost in the music.

  And you can’t help but think of Nate and how he kind of broke you a little bit, but how that didn’t mean you couldn’t fly tonight, here, with Orion.

  When the song ends, you clap and cheer like everyone else, and Orion jumps down from the stage.

  “That was really, really . . . stunning,” you tell him.

  “So are you,” he answers.

  Then he bends to kiss you, and his mouth tastes of chocolate and spice and his kiss feels like flying, like soaring into the dark black night, guided by twinkling stars. You know it’s not love yet, but you think it could be. You certainly found someone wonderful today at Galaxy Mountain.

  “Come on, star boy,” you say, breaking off the kiss. “Let’s get some more of your spicy hot chocolate.”

  He kisses you one more time before saying, “You got it,” and leading you back through the crowd. You smile to yourself. This is the happiest you’ve felt in a long time. You’re already wondering when you’ll be able to see him again. And whether you can convince your parents to spend another week at Galaxy Mountain this winter. Orion could definitely be more than a ski trip fling.

  CONGRATULATIONS!

  You’ve found your happy ending!

  Click here to go back to asking Orion to help you carry the hot chocolates.

  - - - - -

  Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.

  After a day of skiing, during which Charlie shows himself to be the perfect gentleman, he drops you off at the house your parents rented, gives you his cell number, and promises to come back for you in an hour with a car.

  You race inside to shower, calling out to see if anyone’s home. No one answers, but you find Angie asleep on the couch in the living room, so you stop shouting and run as quietly as possible into the bathroom attached to the bedroom your mom assigned you for the trip. You shower and blow-dry your hair in record time. (You’re afraid that without a blow-dry your hair might form icicles when you walk outside into the freezing air.)

  Then you throw on a pair of jeans, a cozy blue sweater that somehow manages to be soft and warm and body skimming all at the same time, and a pair of sheepskin boots. You flick some mascara on your eyelashes and run some shimmery gloss on your lips, and you’re ready to go. It’s a good thing, too,
because Charlie should be here in five minutes! You spray some vanilla-scented perfume in a cloud in front of you and then walk through it—a trick your aunt taught you when you were ten and you stayed with her for a week one summer.

  As you’re layering on your scarf, coat, gloves, and earmuffs, Angie wakes up.

  “Hey!” you say to her. “Where are Mom and Dad?”

  “Grocery shopping,” she tells you. “Where are you going?”

  “To see Casablanca with the red parka guy, Charlie.”

  Angie rubs her eyes. “Do you have his cell phone number? And last name?”

  You nod. “Charlie Dorman. And I’ll text you his number right now.”

  You pull out your phone to do it, and Angie says, “You should probably text Mom, too. Especially if you won’t be home for dinner. Not that she’ll really care all that much, but still.”

  “I don’t know about dinner,” you tell Angie. But you send your mom a text telling her you made a new friend on the mountain and that you’re going to see Casablanca with him. Ever since you started high school, Mom has more or less let you do whatever you want as long as she knows where you are.

  You get one back from her quickly that says, “Okay. Give Angie his number, and be home by eleven thirty.”

  Just as you text back “K,” the doorbell rings. You go to answer it, and Charlie is standing there looking even better than he did in his ski clothes. He smells like aftershave and soap, and his hair is still damp under his wool hat.

  “You came to the door!” you say. “I thought you’d just honk.”

  “Never!” Charlie says, laughing. “Is that your sister?”

  You turn, and Angie is standing in the doorway to the living room. “I am,” she says.

  “That’s Angie,” you say. “Angie, this is Charlie.”

  Charlie crosses the entry hall and holds out his hand to Angie. She shakes it as he says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  You can tell that Angie is charmed. “You, too,” she says. “You’d better take good care of my little sister tonight.”

  “Absolutely,” he tells her. Then he holds out his elbow to you and says, “Shall we?”

  You give Angie a look before you loop your arm through Charlie’s, and she takes that moment to mouth to you: Kiss him!

  Charlie opens the door for you as you leave the house, and then again when you get in the car. “I got tickets in advance,” he says, as he starts the engine.

  “You’re so prepared!” you say, and he laughs.

  You wonder if maybe this is the difference between high school guys and college guys. Or maybe it’s just the difference between Nate and Charlie. You look over at Charlie out of the corner of your eye and decide he really is incredibly sexy. His nose is straight with a little tilt up at the end, and his lips are full, kind of pouty. You imagine kissing them. You imagine liking it.

  When you get to the movie theater, Charlie insists on treating you to popcorn and a soda. He wanted to get you candy, too, but you told him you’d had your chocolate fix that day already.

  The movie theater is the kind where everyone gets big comfy leather chairs, and you and Charlie find two smack in the middle of the theater.

  “Best seats in the house!” Charlie says as the two of you sit down.

  When the lights go down and the movie starts, you inch your hand closer to Charlie’s on the armrest between your seats. A few minutes into the movie, he’s holding your hand, and every now and then when you glance over at him, you see him mouthing the words along with the actors. This really is his favorite film, which is maybe the cutest thing about him.

  You hold his hand a little tighter, and he looks over at you and smiles. Then Ilsa is on the screen saying, “Kiss me, kiss me as if it’s the last time.” Charlie whispers the words along with her and then bends over and kisses you. His lips are warm and taste salty, like popcorn. You find yourself leaning toward him and kissing him back just as hard. He runs his fingers through your hair, and you melt inside. You have a feeling this isn’t the last movie you and Charlie will see together—because you’re pretty sure you’ve fallen in love on the lifts.

  CONGRATULATIONS!

  You’ve found your happy ending!

  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.

  After skiing all day with Charlie, you’re back at the house your parents rented. They went out to get groceries after grilling you on your evening plans. Even though she hadn’t met him, Angie vouched for Charlie, and you passed along his last name and cell phone number just in case. Your parents are pretty relaxed about your hanging out with people at home, as long as they know how to reach you and when you’ll be back, so after giving you an 11:30 curfew, they told you to have fun and headed out the door.

  “I can’t believe I suggested this,” you say to Angie, after getting out of the shower. Even though you’re about to jump into chlorinated water, you felt like you needed to wash the day of skiing sweat off your body.

  “I can’t believe you packed a bathing suit,” Angie responded, holding up a black one piece with high-cut legs and a low-cut back.

  “I always pack a bathing suit,” you tell her. “You never know when you might need one.”

  “Disagree,” she says. “Tonight being the exception, you usually do know exactly when you’re going to need a bathing suit.”

  You roll your eyes and grab your suit out of her hands.

  “So seriously,” she says, “you suggested this?”

  You nod as you slip the suit on and braid your hair in one long fish tail down your back.

  “Impressive,” Angie says. “I didn’t know you were this ballsy. Nice job, little sis. Is this part of your Plan to Get Over Nate?”

  You had so much fun with Charlie today that you forgot about Nate completely. Still, you tell Angie it is, and she nods.

  “I completely support all of this,” she tells you. “Here, I have some waterproof mascara.”

  She hands you the tube, and you apply it.

  “Beautiful,” she says. “You look great. Natural and fun and flirty.”

  You smile, finish getting dressed, grab a towel from the house’s linen closet, and head to the hot tub at the lodge.

  When you get there, Charlie’s already inside, the steam billowing up around him melting the snow before it can hit the water.

  “Is this how you imagined it?” Charlie asks. “The hot tub in the snow?”

  “Exactly,” you tell him, as you shed your clothes and slide in next to him in your bathing suit. He has blue swim trunks on, but no shirt, and you’re impressed by his muscle definition. Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out and tracing them. “Do you work out?” you ask, ignoring the thrill that raced through your fingers when you touched him.

  “I run,” he says. “So yeah. The coach makes us.”

  “You should thank the coach,” you tell him. “Your body is . . .” But then you stop. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You’re not usually this forward. You should probably rein it in.

  Charlie tips your chin up so you’re looking him in the eye. “My body’s what?” he asks.

  His eyes are brown—a deep, rich brown, the color of coffee with only a splash of milk—and the steam from the hot tub makes him look almost ethereal, like he’s from another world, a magical one.

  “Your body’s beautiful,” you breathe.

  “Yours is, too,” he says, moving his hand from your chin to your shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”

  His hand has slipped down under the water and is at your waist. You’ve never wanted anyone to kiss you as much as you want Charlie to press his lips against yours right now. His touch makes you shiver.

  “Are you cold
?” he asks.

  You’re not, but you nod anyway. “Maybe a little,” you say.

  “Come here, then,” he says, pulling you toward him in the hot tub. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  He slides you onto his lap and wraps his arms around you. His mouth is next to your ear. “Better?” he asks.

  “Mm-hmm,” you say, leaning back against him. All of a sudden, you’re incredibly aware of how little clothing you have on—of how little clothing is between your body and Charlie’s. It makes you want to kiss him even more.

  You turn your head, hoping Charlie will get the message, but he seems lost in his own thoughts while his fingers play with the seam of your bathing suit. You can’t take it anymore and turn your head farther so that your body shifts and you’re facing him now.

  “Kiss me,” you whisper. “Please.”

  Charlie looks surprised for a second and then smiles. “You’re amazing,” he says. Then he tilts his head forward and slowly, slowly—agonizingly slowly—presses his lips against yours. “Like this?” He breathes the words into your mouth.

  You can’t take it anymore and slip your tongue into his mouth. Then there’s nothing but the hum of the hot tub heater, the quiet of you two kissing, and the soft fall of snow as it settles into drifts on the deck around the hot tub.

  Charlie pulls away for a second, his breathing quicker than it had been. “Oh, whoa,” he says.

  Your breathing has sped up, too. “Yeah,” you say. “Whoa.”

  And as Charlie kisses you again, you can’t help but wonder if both of you fell in love that day on the lifts. And when you’ll get to see him again.

  CONGRATULATIONS!

  You’ve found your happy ending!

  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.

  As you’re building up speed for the slight incline you have to ski up before you can make it to the lift line, you worry about what you’re going to say to him. But before you can figure out a plan, he speaks to you first.