On a Slippery Slope

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On a Slippery Slope Page 10

by Melody Fitzpatrick


  Okay, so it’s settled then. I have no other choice but to suck it up and face my responsibilities! I am Hannah Smart! I can do anything! I just have to keep telling myself that and hopefully, eventually, I’ll believe it.

  “Hannah, what are you doing here? You should be in class,” Ms. Grimm says, frowning as she walks past me.

  “Um … yeah … I was just …” Suddenly, I realize that she’s headed straight for the peel. As cranky and awful as she is, I can’t let her kill herself. I need to stop her! Just as my foot leaves the landing, I hear, “Hannah, no! Don’t do it!” I land solidly on step two, right beside Ms. Grimm, grabbing her sleeve and stopping her from stepping on the banana peel. At the same time, I look back to see Gabby tearing down the stairs like a maniac. “It’s not worth it!” she cries.

  Ms. Grimm takes a step back out of Gabby’s path, but I am paralyzed. It’s too late to move and Gabby is going too fast to stop and the peel is right in front of me! I wonder if this is what it feels like to be in a car accident, when you know something horrible is about to happen, but there is nothing you can do to stop it. As predicted, Gabby crashes into me — hard — sending me flying into the handrail.

  “Hannah, oh my gosh!” Gabby shrieks. “Are you okay?” She reaches down to help me up.

  “Girls!” Ms. Grimm yells loudly. “Do not play on the stairs! It is very dangerous!” We turn to look at her just as she lifts up her foot to take another step.

  “Ms. Grimm!” I scream. “Don’t move!”

  “What?” she says, ignoring my plea.

  “Stop!” I scream as loudly as I can.

  She puts her foot back down. “Hannah, what has gotten into you?”

  “Banana peel!” I screech, pointing in front of her.

  “Why on Earth would anyone throw a banana peel on the stairs? I could have killed myself on that thing!” She bends over, picks up the peel, and continues down the steps, then tosses it into the green bin at the bottom. “Thank you for the warning.” She nods sternly. “Now get back to class!”

  As soon as Ms. Grimm disappears around the corner, Gabby starts yelling. “Hannah Smart! This has gone too far!”

  “What has?”

  “I know, Hannah!” she screams.

  “You know what?” I mutter, wishing she would stop yelling.

  “I know you were trying to hurt yourself!” she growls angrily.

  How could she know? I never breathed a word of my plan to a single soul.

  “I know everything!” she says.

  “What ‘everything’?”

  Oh my gosh … she can’t know. That would mean … oh my gosh … she can’t know … but what if she does? My head is spinning. My legs are turning into jelly. Am I hyperventilating again? Oh no …

  “Hannah! Slow down your breathing!” I hear Gabby yell. “You’re going to …”

  Everything goes black.

  “Hannah. Hannah, wake up!”

  Ouch. Where am I? Oh no! I’m still on the steps. It happened again.

  Gabby shakes her head. “Hannah, you fainted.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” is all I can say. I want to say so much more, but that’s all that’s coming out.

  “It’s okay,” Gabby pulls me up to a sitting position beside her on the stairs. “I was just really worried about you, that’s all.”

  “What did you mean by everything?” I ask, resisting the temptation to plug my ears so I don’t have to listen to her answer.

  “Everything,” she repeats again slowly.

  “Everything … like what?” I’m cringing while waiting to hear what she is about to say.

  “Hannah, I know you’re not a skier, you’re not a snowboarder, and I’d be willing to bet that you’ve never even set foot on a ski hill in your entire life, which is a shame seeing as you just moved from one of the most incredible ski villages in the entire country.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again, tears of guilt welling in my eyes. Gabby looks so hurt. “I don’t even know what to say …”

  “Tell me you’re never going to try something this stupid ever again!” She says pointing at the banana peel in the compost bin.

  “Yeah, that was a stupid idea.”

  “Ya think?” she says, with a chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask, confused. “I lied to you.”

  “You did.” Gabby shrugs. “But you suffered for it.”

  “It’s been awful!”

  “Well, really you kind of deserved it, right?”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “So, how long have you …”

  “How long have I known?” Gabby interrupts me.

  “Since the day I asked to see your gear.”

  “Really? That long?”

  “Well, it was pretty easy to figure it out. Usually, skiers and snowboarders, at least the ones I know, are pretty stoked about their gear, but you weren’t. I mean I was practically begging you to tell me something about your stuff, but you wouldn’t give me a single detail. And then when you couldn’t find it, you were all like, ‘Yeah, whatever.’ You weren’t even mad. If it had been me, I would have run up the stairs and begged my mom to call the movers right away, but you were all, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.’”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying you’re sorry! This wasn’t a mistake, Hannah.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A mistake that you keep making over and over again isn’t a mistake; it’s a choice. You chose to keep up with this story, and now it’s snowballing out of control.”

  “I know.”

  “Hannah, you’ve pretty much lied to the world.”

  “I know!” I cry. “Why do you think I was trying to …”

  “Don’t say it!” Gabby cries.

  “What, break my …”

  “Hannah! Don’t even!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Hannah! Do you realize that the only time I was ever mad at you about any of this was today?”

  “I don’t understand,” I say honestly.

  “Well, I figured that the truth would come out eventually, but until then, I’d just keep my mouth shut. I mean, you weren’t hurting anyone, so who cares, right? But then today I’m about to go downstairs to pick up some notices for Mrs. Jackman, when suddenly I see you doing this weird dancing thing on the stairs. At first I thought, you must be practising some new routine for your show.”

  “A dance routine?”

  “Well, you do different stuff on there all the time, why not stair-dancing?”

  “Because that would be weird.”

  “Whatever. Anyway, then I spied the banana peel and then I saw you making a run for it. That’s when I clued in. This lie has gotten so big that you are willing to risk your life to keep it going. Hannah! You could have died!”

  “I wasn’t brave enough.” I shrug. “I chickened out.”

  “Hannah, you are the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

  “You’re wrong, Gabby. I’m a wimp.”

  “A wimp could have never taken the amount of torture I threw at you. I knew your stomach would twist into knots every time I’d bring up skiing.” She laughs. “You must have noticed I brought it up a lot.”

  “Ohhhh … you’re good!” I say, suddenly realizing that Gabby is way smarter than I ever gave her credit for. “But why did you defend me when Chloe and Ivy were calling me out?”

  “Because those girls are the meanest of the mean, and I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.”

  “Okay, so if you think I’m so brave, I guess it’s time to prove it. Right after school, I’m telling Andy — everything.”

  Gabby shakes her head. “No way. Andy can’t know. No one can. Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

  17

  Sometimes There’s No Going Back

  “Okay, so the most important thing to remember is to have fun,” Gabby says, snapping her boots into her skis, “and just do what I do.”

  Following or
ders, I do the same — snap, snap. Easy-peasy!

  “So, we’re going to start over there on the bunny hill,” she says, pointing to a slightly sloped area with a tow-rope hauling some kids to the top.

  “I don’t know what I would do without you Gabby,” I say, clomp, clomp, clomping in her tracks as she slowly skis over to the tow-rope.

  “Are you ready?” she asks.

  I grab the rope and yell, “I hope so!”

  Oh my gosh. I’m doing this! I have the rope in my hands, and it’s pulling me up the hill! Oh my gosh, this is so much fun! I can’t believe how easy this is! I’ll be fine as long as nobody … oh no! A kid just fell in front of me. What should I do? I’m going to hit him. I’m totally going to hit him. What should I do? Should I let go?

  “Do I let go?” I scream.

  Just in the nick of time, the kid gets out of my way, but, oh no! I hit the same bump he must have, and start to lose my balance. I grip the rope tighter, but it’s no use. I’m falling. This is awful. The rope is hauling me up the hill sideways. I can’t let go.

  “Let go of the rope!” Gabby cries.

  Ouch! I just went over another bump.

  “Hannah, let go!” she cries again.

  Just as I let go, I hear someone yell, “Coming through!”

  “Hannah, scooch out of the way!” Gabby yells.

  As ordered, I shimmy myself over, out of the path of a line of children who appear to be taking lessons from a very cute teenage ski instructor.

  Cute Ski Instructor, who is following behind them on the tow-rope, suddenly looks down at me. “Hey you!” he says, like he knows me. “Wow! Nice gear!”

  He looks familiar, but I can’t figure out why.

  “Hey,” Gabby says tapping me with her pole. “Use these to help yourself up.” Using her poles, she demonstrates by expertly pushing herself up from the sitting position. After four attempts, I finally manage to do it, too.

  “I’ll be a pro in no time.” I laugh.

  “Okay, Hannah. Let’s try this again. Grab the rope and keep yourself balanced over your skis this time. It will help you over the bumps.”

  I do as I’m told and miraculously make it to the top without falling. Over the next hour, Gabby teaches me how to snowplow, how to turn, and, most importantly, how to stop. After practising a bunch more times how to get up after falling (due to the fact that I fell a bunch more times) I finally make it down the hill without a hitch.

  “You’re ready!” Gabby says, beaming with pride.

  “No, I’m not!” I cry.

  “Hannah, you have to get on that mountain before the camera crew comes out. We only have one more hour before the shoot!”

  “I can’t. I have to pee!” I protest.

  “You had a pee an hour ago.”

  “Well, I have to go again!”

  “No, you don’t. You’re just scared.”

  “Yeah, like I don’t realize that!”

  “Hannah, you’ll be fine. I’ve taught you the basics and now you need to take it to the next level, literally!”

  “Okay.” I let out a nervous sigh. “I’ll follow you.”

  After a short wait in line, it’s our turn for the chairlift. I’m standing here on the platform, waiting for this thing to come up from behind and scoop me up, and then haul my petrified butt high into the air.

  “Don’t be scared, Hannah,” Gabby reassures me. Obviously, she must sense that I am completely terrified. “Just bend your knees a bit.”

  Suddenly, the chair lift hits the back of my legs and instinctively, I sit down. Gabby pulls down the bar in front of us and we’re on our way. Wow! That wasn’t so bad! I reach for my seat belt … but there isn’t one.

  “Stop!” I scream. “Stop the lift!” Suddenly, the chairlift stops with a lurch.

  “Hannah! What are you doing?” Gabby whispers angrily.

  “My chair!” I yell loudly to the guy controlling the lift.

  “What’s the problem?” He yells back.

  I look over at Gabby and can’t help but gasp. Her belt is missing, too! “Our chair doesn’t have any seat belts,” I holler. “They’re missing!”

  I hear a collective moan coming from the lineup. I’m sure they’re all just as frustrated as I am over the lack of concern for safety at this resort. I mean, management should be ordering regular maintenance checks to catch this sort of thing!

  “Pardon?” The guy yells back.

  “Stop it, Hannah!” Gabby whispers angrily again. “They’re aren’t any …”

  “No, Gabby!” I interrupt her. “Let me handle this.”

  “Bring us back!” I demand. “Our seat is defective. We’ll take the next one!” Everyone in the lineup seems annoyed. I can’t say I blame them. People pay good money to ski here, and this kind of oversight is unacceptable!

  “What’s wrong with your chair?” The guy says as he walks toward where we are dangling.

  “OUR … SEAT BELTS … ARE … MISSING!” I yell down to him.

  From my chair, I can see Cute Instructor Guy in the lineup with all of the kids. I still can’t figure out where I know him from, and why is he shaking his head and laughing? This is no laughing matter!

  “You need to bring us back!” I yell down to him.

  Cute Instructor Guy’s kids are all busting a gut and a couple of them are pointing. I doubt they’d think it was so funny if they were stuck up here in this faulty chair!

  “I can’t!” Controller Guy yells up to me.

  “You have to!” I yell back. “

  “Hannah! I am begging you! Stop yelling!” Gabby barks. “Chairlifts do not have seat belts and they don’t go in reverse!”

  “They don’t?” I say, my face burning with embarrassment.

  “Loser!” I hear one of the kids in the lineup yell.

  “Okay, so are we good now?” Controller Guy yells up to us.

  I nervously giggle. “Yup, we’re great! Sorry about that.”

  The chairlift starts up again and I settle down for a long, silent trip up the mountain.

  “I embarrassed you,” I say as we reach the top.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Gabby says, scooting a little forward in the chair. “Okay, so when I say ‘go,’ just push yourself off the chair and then ski in my direction.”

  “What? Push myself off! I’ll fall, Gabby! I think I’ll just ride this thing back down the hill, okay?”

  “No!”

  “But …”

  Gabby lifts the bar and yells, “Go!”

  I do exactly as told and somehow manage not to fall down. Wow, I’m pretty proud of myself. I was fully expecting another embarrassing scene.

  “I made it!” I cry triumphantly.

  “Good for you.” Gabby frowns.

  “You’re mad, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Something’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Gabby, you’re not talking. That means something is wrong.”

  “Nothing is wrong!”

  “Gabby!”

  “Okay, something’s wrong.” Gabby points over at Cute Ski Instructor Guy, who has just made it to the top with all of his students. He’s talking to a girl — it’s Ivy!

  “Oh no!” I gasp. Finally I get it. I know who he is. He’s the cute high school sales guy from Boardz! “It’s Nathan!”

  “I know!” Gabby cries. “He’s Ivy’s cousin!”

  “He saw me on the bunny hill!”

  “And he probably saw you on the chairlift, too!”

  “He did. He was laughing at me!” I panic.

  “Oh no, Hannah!” Gabby points to the building beside the lift.

  I look over and see Gwendolyn, Andy, and the camera crew coming out the door.

  They’re early!

  “Gabby,” I scream. “I didn’t practise! And Nathan is talk
ing to Ivy! And Andy is coming over here! What am I going to do!”

  “Hannah! Breathe!” Gabby demands.

  My knees! Oh no! I’m going to faint. Please not now!

  Gabby grips my shoulders, looks into my eyes, and takes a deep breath in through her nose. “Breathe, Hannah,” she demands. “Now, breathe out … and again, in through the nose, and out through the mouth.”

  “Hey, guys!” A.J. yells, duck-walking over on his snowboard. “Wow, Hannah! Awesome gear!”

  Gabby is still doing her deep breathing, motioning with her hand for me to keep following along.

  “Um, yeah. Thanks!” I take a deep breath in through my nose. “The station bought it. Gabby helped. She’s got great taste.” I breathe out.

  A.J. looks at us strangely. “So what’s with the …”

  “Part of the creative process, A.J.” Gabby says, sucking in another breath. “Hannah does it before filming. It calms the nerves.”

  “Hannah Smart gets nervous?” A.J. says, laughing. “Never would have guessed it.”

  “Very funny,” I say, breathing in again.

  “So you haven’t started filming yet?” A.J. says, taking a deep breath in through his nose. “I ran into Andy this morning …” he blows out, “… and she asked if I wanted to help.”

  “She did?”

  Gabby winks at me and nods. I guess this is all part of the plan, which I still don’t know anything about other than the fact that I have to “trust her.” And, just so you know, this is becoming harder and harder to do with each passing second.

  “Well good morning, everyone!” Andy says as she and the film crew arrive beside us. “We’ll get started in just a minute.” She takes a sip of coffee from her insulated mug and motions for me to follow her a little distance from the crowd.

  “Hannah, last night after everyone went to bed, Gabby paid me a visit.”

  “She did?” Why would Gabby do that? She told me not to talk to Andy.

  “Gabby brought up a really good point, and I agree — your audience will relate to you more if you don’t appear to be such an expert.”

  “You don’t want me to be an expert?”

  “Well, I’m not asking you to lie, because there is no turning back from a lie on air — EVER. But I’m asking you to … hmm … not pretend, really, but not let everyone see how amazing you are, either. We want your friends, A.J. and Gabby, to get involved today.

 

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