by A. G. Henley
“Ali and Gage are eighteen. A lot of the others on the tour are over twenty.”
I whistled. “Ancient.”
“Right?” A smile hung in her voice.
“So, you actually like riding around in this halfpipe thing?” I peered down between my feet. The sheer drop made me feel a little woozy. Of course, I still hadn’t eaten anything since the hospital crackers. Doctor Super-Fit would not be happy. “I watched some videos of you. You’re incredibly good.”
She wiggled a little on the deck. “If you want, you can come out tomorrow afternoon and watch me! Hopefully we’ll get a few inches of powder tonight.”
I shivered. I couldn’t believe snow wasn’t already falling. It was colder than a middle school girl with a grudge out here.
“How did you get into”— I waved my arm around—“all this, anyway?”
“A friend of mine in elementary school. Her dad wanted her to learn, but she didn’t want to be in class alone. She begged him to take me with them to Tahoe. We went almost every weekend for a full season. She quit, but I fell in love.” She laughed—an infectious sound. “I’ll bet my parents wish they’d never let me go with them.”
“Why?”
She snorted. “Um, they’re Indian.”
“Yeah? So?”
She shrugged. “Indian parents generally aren’t super excited about athletics. Being sporty is fine and all, but they want me to get a good education. Become a doctor or engineer or something solid like that, like my dad did. I get where they’re coming from, but I think I can do both. That’s what I tell them, anyway.” She turned toward me, tucking a boot up under her. “You know they wanted some old guy to follow me around campus every day? I said no way. I wanted someone younger, and I wanted a female. When I saw your picture, I knew you were perfect.”
Veena picked me? Brown never said that. Warmth filled my chest.
“Thanks for that. Seriously. This is a big deal for me.” We smiled at each other, and I figured I’d mended the fence well enough to jump it now.
“Veena, what’s the matter? Why are you . . . out here right now?” And how was she so oblivious to the cold? My teeth chattered.
Her long, slow breath curled in front of us. When it disappeared, she answered in a whisper.
“They threatened me again.”
I sat up straight. “What? When? Again?”
Her free heel kicked against the wall, and she hunched inside her coat. “The first one was a text. Last week. They sent a picture of . . . something bloody. Like raw meat. They said that’s what I’d look like if my dad didn’t give them what they want.” A tear glistened on her cheek.
“Why didn’t you tell your parents?” I would have heard if she had.
“I didn’t want them to find out. They already want me to go home where I’d be safer.” She sniffed, and her voice dropped again. “Then I got a DM on Instagram tonight. It was an animated GIF of a girl tied up with a rope. A clock ticked down, and she . . . exploded. I freaked out and ran up here. It’s my happy place.”
I understood her impulse to run away. But her happy place was perched on an ice wall on an ass-freezing night?
“I don’t want to go home, Nic,” she said. “Being an Olympian is my dream, and I’m so close. No Indian women have medaled in the Winter Games before. Did you know that?”
“Yeah, I did,” I said. She looked at me questioningly. “I read it in People.”
She laughed, but it was short lived. “Well, I want to be the first. But I’m scared. I don’t expect to be a bristlecone, but I thought I might at least be a lodgepole, you know?”
“Veena, these people are trying to scare you because they want something from your father. The possibility of them getting to you, much less hurting you, is slim. My team and I are here to protect you while law enforcement figures out who’s making the threats.” I hesitated. “But listen, I can’t keep you safe if you disappear on me.”
Head down, she nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I understand.
“G-good.” The jolt of adrenaline had worn off. I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking.
Veena jumped to her feet. “Cucumber! You’re freezing! And you haven’t eaten anything yet, have you?”
My stomach lurched in response, and the headache was starting to poke holes in my brain again. I used the flashlight as we scrambled down the berm. It would help Kovitch, wherever he and his team had taken up position, to see we were headed back to VMA.
“Cucumber?” I said.
She shrugged. “I try not to curse. I’m a role model and everything, remember? Plus, cursing with vegetables is kinda satisfying.”
“I’ll have to try it. Veena, what is the nanotechnology these guys want?” I asked as we walked. “I know it has military uses, but I’m a little unclear beyond that.”
“It’s cutting-edge stuff that can be used in a lot of fields. Nano means something super small, like, molecular level tiny. Biotech companies are developing nanoparticles that bring chemotherapy drugs right to the cells that need them without damaging healthy cells. Dad’s company has been working on textiles reinforced with nanofibers for use in space . . . but yes, their work has military applications, too. They had a cybersecurity breach last year, which they caught. Now, it seems like whoever is after the tech is using me to try and get it.”
I shook my head. “All this for a piece of fabric?”
“A really valuable piece of fabric.”
We took the stairs to her—our—room. I wasn’t sure if it was still mine. I couldn’t help thinking Brown might call at any minute to fire me.
“Rule number one,” I said after checking the room, “don’t disappear again.”
Veena took off her shoes and tossed them in the pile of shoes and boots in the closet. “Got it.”
“Rule number two.” I shut the balcony door. “Keep both doors shut and locked at all times.”
“Okay.”
“Can I see your phone? I need to look at the threats.”
She slumped on her bed. “I was so upset that I freaked out and deleted them. I know; that was stupid.”
“It’s okay, I get it.” And I guessed that the team could track them down. “Can I take a look anyway? In case there’s something you missed?”
She unlocked her phone, touched the screen, and passed it to me. Her Instagram profile pic was Veena upside down on her board against a blue sky. Her account name was followed by: Snowboarder x Desi Girl, a list of her sponsors, and who to contact with media inquiries.
“The third rule is harder.” I sat on the bed beside her. “Brace yourself.”
“What is it?” She sounded tired.
“Limit social media.”
Her head popped up. “What? No way!”
“You don’t have to delete your accounts, but unless you’re going somewhere advertised in advance where we’ve planned the security for you, like a competition, then you say nothing about where you are or what you’re doing.”
“Can I post about riding and goofing around?”
“Yes, but no place tags.”
“I guess that’s not so bad.”
“Holy crap!” I yelled.
“What?”
I pointed at the screen. “You have 500,000 followers?”
“Oh, that.” She shrugged, looking embarrassed. “You know, all the media exposure lately doesn’t hurt.”
I checked out a few of her posts. One was dated a few weeks ago, right after Christmas. She was on a plane from Japan to Los Angeles after a competition, sacked out with an eye mask on, mouth open. Catching some Zs (and some flies), the caption read.
A few pictures were of her training in the gym or in the halfpipe, others were her holding a snowboard on the slopes. Some of the commentary came from guys: Damn gurl and U r hot were popular. Emoji use was high.
“I’ve got to call my boss,” I said. And I needed to eat something. Anything. The bowl of dry rice on Veena’s shelf was making my mouth water. Using my phone in the bath
room, I told Brown about the threat.
“An exploding GIF? Sounds juvenile,” he said. “A friend maybe?”
More like a frenemy. “Could be. But the raw meat one?”
“We’ll look into it. How is she?”
“Scared but determined. She’s a tough girl.”
He didn’t say anything for a second. “I need to talk to you in the morning, Green. Ice will cover for you with Black Diamond.”
My pulse sped up.
“I’ll call you at eight,” he said.
“We’ve got class.”
“Eight sharp.”
“I understand.”
I understood that I was heading back to Vegas tomorrow to find a new career. I should have done so many things differently today. So. Many. Things. But it was too late now.
A few minutes ago, all I’d wanted was to eat.
Now? All I wanted was a second chance.
Six
We barely made it to the dining hall before it closed. We sat with Ali and Gage, who had finished eating but stayed to hang out, and I met a few more of Veena’s classmates. The food was pretty good. A lot better than my high school’s cafeteria, anyway.
Honestly, I wasn’t paying as much attention as I might have before talking to Brown. I only had to keep my principal alive until morning.
Veena kept giving me funny looks at dinner, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her she’d have that old man with twenty years’ experience soon after all. Or that it was for the best—he’d know what he was doing.
Later, back in the bathroom, I called Xene.
“I totally screwed up,” I said when she picked up.
“What happened?”
I told her everything from getting sick on the mountain to losing Veena. “And now Brown’s going to fire me.”
“Ah, Nicole. You’ve had bad luck.”
“Yeah.” I also did almost everything wrong.
“Are you positive he’s planning to terminate your contract?”
“Sure sounded like it.”
“I’ll call him.”
“Thanks, Xene—but no. You’ve helped me so much already. If he fires me . . . he fires me. I don’t want you to bail me out.” I took a deep breath through the knife stab in my chest. It would hurt bad, but if I wanted to be taken seriously, I’d have to succeed on my own—and fail on my own, too. “I’m so sorry I blew this chance. I guess I wasn’t ready.”
That admission was the best I could do. I still had to face the truth with Brown, Veena, Mom, and worst of all, myself.
A few minutes later, I climbed under the covers. Veena washed up, turned the light out, and got into her own bed. A soft nightlight from the bathroom threw enough of an arc to make out the white cover over her.
“Are you okay, Nic?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay.” She sounded a little hurt again.
What the hell. I was leaving, right?
“You asked if I had a boyfriend. I did see a guy for a while this year, Matty. He was in my training class. He’s kind of a jerk though.”
I’d met Matty Jeffers when I started my course. He was a few years older, a washout from the Marines. I’d broken up with him when I’d seen texts on his phone about meeting up with other women. It hurt, but mostly I didn’t need the distraction.
Veena wrestled with her covers while trying to turn to face me. “And you’re not dating anyone now? You’re so pretty, and with your super cool job, I thought guys would be lining up.”
I snorted. “Not exactly. I saw a few guys in high school, but I lost touch with them when I graduated.” They all went to college, and I didn’t. “How about you? Are you dating anyone?”
“I wish.” She sighed. “Anders.”
“Who’s that?”
“Anders Iversen. He rides for the Norwegian Olympic team. He’s gorgeous, sweet, and amazing. But we’re only friends—for now. Give me time in that Olympic Village, though.”
She whooped and kicked her feet up and down, frothing her sheets and covers.
I felt miserable for myself, but I couldn’t help laughing. I might not be part of Veena’s security team anymore, but I’d root for her all the way. She was just that kind of girl.
Veena was up early, texting away in bed when I woke up. She was even bubblier in the morning, if that was possible. She smiled brightly at me before she left for breakfast. Cooley texted from the hallway; he had her covered.
With a sick heart, I sat on my bed and video called Brown with my laptop. He answered right away.
What I planned to say: Chief—give me another shot. I don’t want to beg . . . but I’m begging. Let me stay. I can do this job.
What I said: nothing. My tongue was literally an ice pop in my mouth.
“You had quite the first day, Green.”
Shame bubbled through me. “I know.”
“You know? That’s it? I talked to Ice and Owl. I talked to Muth. You were a disaster.”
I took a deep breath. Whatever he had to say, I’d take it. But I’d rather have it straight. “So, I’m fired.”
Brown stared at me through the screen, head cocked. He fiddled with the collar of his shirt and looked down. When he looked me in the face again, his eyes and lips had hardened, and his jaw was set.
“You’re staying. For now. But do not have another day like yesterday.”
Seriously? Red, white, and blue fireworks exploded in my chest. I almost kissed his face on the screen. “I won’t, Chief. I promise. Thank you for giving me another chance.”
“Don’t thank me, Green. Don’t thank me.”
If not him, who? Did Xene call him after all?
He scowled. “This is a high-profile job. All our reputations are on the line here. If you fail, we fail. Am I clear?”
I hadn’t considered that. I’d been too busy thinking about my own job, my own reputation. But he was right. If I were replaced, it would look bad for everyone. A new sense of responsibility flooded through me. Time to get serious. For myself, but also for Veena. Those threats she got weren’t idle.
“Yeah, I do.” My voice was as firm as I felt.
“All right. We need to talk about the threats. After some research, they look real. Law enforcement can get the account information that they were sent from, but that probably won’t go anywhere. I’m working to see what else we can figure out. If she hears from them again, call me right away. And tell her not to delete the damned things next time.”
“She was scared, Chief.” I didn’t mean to sound defensive.
His eyes narrowed. “You learned in training that it’s dangerous for you to get too close to your principal, right?”
“Yes, sir, I did. I was only saying she’s a smart kid.”
He snorted. “Kid? What are you?”
A flush crept up my neck. If he wanted me to act like a pro, why not treat me like one? At least when he was yelling at me, I felt like part of the team.
“What did you find out about that Connor guy?” I asked.
“He checked out. He’s traveling to Switzerland with the athletes as a medic and sports trainer.”
I was relieved to hear he was legit. One less threat. Plus, he was nice about the whole vomiting on his boots thing. And he wasn’t exactly an eyesore.
“Check in later. And don’t screw up again.” Brown hung up.
I pounded on the bedspread. I was staying! I texted Xene to thank her for whatever she did.
After grabbing my backpack—I’d brought my ratty one from my own school days—I met Veena at her first period, AP American History in the Aspen Room. They’d kept the conference room names when the hotel became a school. At least I thought I might be able to handle this subject. How hard could it be? The Mayflower, the Revolutionary War, Civil War, a couple of World Wars. Done.
I nodded to Cooley, who was emptying a trashcan outside the room, pointed at a crumpled sandwich wrapper on the ground, and winked. “You dropped something.”
> Inside, the teacher, a plump blond wearing jeans and a sweater, plus the eight students in the class, stared at me all the way to my seat. Laptops open, they lounged at three long tables set up in a U-shape facing a screen on the wall. Veena had saved me a spot. As I sat, Jake the player grinned at me cheekily over his computer.
“Hey, I’m Nicole Rossi. I go by Nic,” I said to the class.
“Welcome, Nic. I’m Ms. Pope,” the teacher said. “Please make an effort to be on time to class in the future.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, a little too buoyantly for the situation. I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Everything okay?” Veena whispered.
“All good.” I pulled out my own computer.
She smiled knowingly. “Good.”
And that’s when I knew.
Xene hadn’t saved my job. Veena had.
I turned all the way around to her, my mouth open.
“Did you—?” I whispered.
“Shh.” Veena peeked at Ms. Pope, who glared at me over the projector. When the teacher went back to talking, Veena typed something and nudged her laptop screen my way.
Yes
Damn. Veena saved my ass. My earlier resolve grew even stronger. I needed to do better for her.
I spent the next forty-five minutes trying to type as fast as Ms. Pope talked. Did I say AP American History would be easy? Um, no. Other than one mention of Abe Lincoln and the Civil War, I’d never heard of half the laws, amendments, policies, or politicians she talked about.
After a while, I gave up trying to keep up and studied the kids in class instead. Everyone wore sweatshirts or hoodies, jeans and sweatpants, and strictly speaking, personal hygiene wasn’t a priority. A few glanced curiously back at me. Jake caught me looking once and checked out my boobs.
One of the girls captured my attention. She had shoulder-length brown hair and pale skin, and she was built like the shot-putters at my old school. Gram would have called her sturdy. She looked like she could handle herself. When she spoke, she had an accent. Russian, maybe, although her English was good.
When the bell rang, I leaned over to Veena. “How’d you know I was in trouble?”
“I could hear you on the phone last night in the bathroom.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, the door is pretty thin. You said you thought you’d be fired.”