‘Ehhhhh,’ I say, putting my hands up in a shrug.
‘Ready for me to laugh at your moves all the way down?’ Taylor says, shuffling his board forward, ready to set off.
‘Ignoring you,’ I say as I take the incline at a snail’s pace.
Taylor arcs around me, keeping the learner skiers who are pizza-ing their way down with petrified faces at a distance.
I look over at him halfway down. His eyes are shiny, and he’s got a huge smile on his face, the biggest I’ve seen this holiday. I know he doesn’t want to make a big deal about today, and I’m not going to, but it’s awesome to see him on the mountain again, doing what he loves.
I stack it half-a-dozen times down Skyline, even though it’s a gentle trail that curves around the side of the mountain. By mid-afternoon, falling stops being so scary, and I find myself relaxing into the runs. The years of skiing have helped me progress quicker than the average beginner boarder, and I’m able to take sections of the trail faster, although I’m a snail compared to Taylor’s hare as he curves around corners and onto the side banks of the trail, where his board picks up leftover powder.
‘I feel like I’m holding you back,’ I say as we stop to take some photos of the basin on the right-hand side of the run. You can see all the way back to Queenstown from here.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Taylor says, smiling as he snaps a picture of me.
‘You don’t want to head around the other side to more challenging runs?’
Everyone else is over at Captain’s – Tobi and Maia, Mum and Dad, Vi and Jack and a bunch of their friends.
‘I like it here with you,’ he says, tossing a snowball at me.
‘Guess I can’t get rid of you, then,’ I say, tossing one back.
We head off again, down the mountain. We get three more runs in before the chairlift closes for the day.
‘That thing’s actually steaming,’ I say, staring at the heat rising from Taylor’s left snowboard boot as he pulls it off down by the car.
‘You don’t want to smell my sock,’ Taylor says, giving me a cheeky look. He has one sock balled up in his fist, like he’s going to toss it over in my direction.
‘Don’t you dare.’
We strip off all our snow gear, down to our dry thermals and climb into the back seat.
‘Great day, hey?’ Taylor says, smiling at me as we click in our seatbelts.
Every single muscle in my body is hurting. My bum’s going to have a million bruises come tomorrow. My calves are so tight it was a struggle getting down the hill to the carpark, and I know my face is red from the cold and exercise.
I don’t think I’ve felt this good in years.
‘The best.’ I grin over at him.
‘So,’ he says, ‘are you up for another shot at it tomorrow?’
Taylor’s Mobile
Finn
Tuesday 11 June, 2:13pm
Where you guys at?
About to head down Paradise run to Captain’s.
Where are you, Finny-boy? Oh, that’s right, AT SCHOOL :) :)
I hate you. You know, you homeschool kids deserve your slacker rep.
You kissed her yet?
Like I’m going to tell you that.
Right, that’s a no, then.
Taylor
Tuesday 11 June
Sometimes I wonder if Finn’s got a sixth sense. Or a Taylor-tracker or something – because I’d come this close to kissing Issy this afternoon, five minutes before he started hounding me about it.
We were sitting on the Captain’s Express Quad Chair. We’d kept boarding during the 12–1pm slot, when most of the families took their lunch, so we had the chair to ourselves.
I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way we danced like dorks to the music that was playing in the line for the chairlift. Maybe it was the fact that she nearly elbowed me in the male parts when the chairlift swept us up at the bottom. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she couldn’t stop giggling for a minute or two.
Maybe it’s the fact that I’m so darn happy today. Yesterday’s grey sky is blue today, and the snow is sparkling iridescent below the chairlift. We’ve spent all morning challenging ourselves on this side of the mountain, on the green runs that intersperse briefly with blue.
This isn’t a Hollywood movie. Just because I’ve set my mind on ‘getting back on the slopes’ doesn’t mean that the little things that frustrated me last June have magically disappeared. I still don’t have as much control or stability as I’d like. My centre of gravity’s different to before the accident, and I’m playing around with that, finding a stance that fits in with my new leg. I’m engaging different muscles, using my hips and knees more when making my turns and stops.
It’s all experimentation.
I’ve fallen a bunch of times in the process, of course. But Goldie’s fallen too, and in between laughing at each other, we’ve been working through our clammy hands and scared stances as the incline becomes steeper.
‘Lean into the mountain!’ I instruct Issy as we head down Eagle’s Rock.
‘You lean into the mountain,’ she throws back. ‘Have you checked out your own body language right now?’
‘I leave the checking out of me to you.’
‘Get over yourself,’ she scoffs. Her face goes red though.
‘Are you blushing?’
‘No.’
Maybe it’s that. Seeing her cheeks turn pink that way about me. That was the last run, and I was so distracted with could she actually like me that way? that my thighs turned to jelly coming down the hill to the chairlift.
I’m still asking myself the same question on the chair, looking over at her. We’re pressed up close in the centre of the seat, even though there’s masses of room on either side.
A little bit of snow falls from above us and lands on her left cheek. She turns her head to face mine.
‘Oops,’ she says.
My hand is at her cheek before she can lift hers. She looks up at me, and her cheeks go the same shade of pink as they were ten minutes ago. My gloves are off, so I can feel the warmth of the blush against my fingers. My own blood heats up.
She’s not looking away.
Every single shred of sense, and any question of consequence, drops away.
That’s it, I’m kissing her.
And one second later, there’s a ‘whoomp’ and the clump of snow that had been frozen on the bar above our chair falls right onto our heads.
Isolde
Wednesday 12 June
I’m addicted to the mountain now. To the way that boarding feels like flying sometimes. To the way my body seems to work on instinct during certain moments – shifting the weight on cue, guiding me down the slope – almost without thinking.
Maybe that’s it – all the thoughts that have been choking up my brain the last week seem to fade away each time Taylor and I take on a trail.
I forget about Mum and Dad. About dancing and the audition. The only thing I’m conscious of is how beautiful the mountains are stretching on and on before me. The sound of my breath and the cold air trailing down my throat. It’s a sense of being super alive – like everything is brighter and bolder in that moment.
‘Flow,’ Taylor says when we talk about the feeling on the drive home. ‘It’s a boarding term. It’s the way your brain feels at peak performance, or peak enjoyment. You could say, “in the moment” too.’
‘I used to get it dancing,’ I say.
I still did sometimes. On stage. Just not in class any more, or practising in my studio.
‘Do you think you’re going to audition?’ Taylor asks.
I don’t know, I think.
‘Let’s not talk about that,’ I say.
So we talk about other things.
I love the drives from Queenstown to Cardrona every morning, and back again at the end of the day. All the things we used to have to email or IM about, we can finally talk about in person. We tell each other secrets as the car winds down fro
m Arrow Junction, and fluffy rabbits scamper across the fields next to the road, and Lake Hayes comes into view. I break off rows of chocolate and put pieces into Taylor’s mouth as he keeps his eyes on the road. I try to imitate the Kiwi accents on the radio, the sweet as, bro, or choice!
We have a playlist going, of course. Taylor’s made a new one for us: the Chasing Powder playlist. Some of the songs are old tracks from the snowboarding films – That’s It, That’s All and The Art of Flight – but then there’s other stuff too. Troye Sivan. Andrew Belle. There’s this one Maala song called ‘Crazy’, about a guy crushing on his best friend, and every time it plays, my brain becomes absolute struggle street because all I can think about is Tay and me.
‘Quite a few love songs in here,’ I say as the song finishes.
‘There’s nothing wrong with love songs,’ Taylor says. ‘You don’t like them?’
‘I love them,’ I admit. The late-afternoon sun is soaking through the windscreen, warming every part of me.
On the drive home on Wednesday, our exes come into the conversation.
‘It’s weird looking back on it. Do you remember that time we went on that cave tour over in Te Anau? How we got in a little boat and drifted down through the caverns to the grotto, and when the tour guide switched off the torch, you could see, there on the ceiling, thousands of glow-worms?’
‘That’s right,’ I say. We must have been seven or eight back then.
‘I remember looking at this galaxy of lights and pretending they were stars – because in the darkness, you could almost believe it. Almost. There was just this tiny part of me that kept saying, Taylor, they’re not stars. And that’s the way it was with Nat. It was something – but I always knew it wasn’t the real thing.’
He’s never told me this before. I know it shouldn’t matter all these years later, but some bruised part of me, deep down, feels a little better.
‘I knew with Aidan as well,’ I admit.
‘What were we doing?’ Taylor says, laughing. ‘Idiots, hey?’
‘Too fast, too soon, maybe?’ I say, also laughing. ‘You meet someone and feelings kick in, but really, you don’t know much about them at all.’
‘I’m starting to think it’s smarter to start off as friends,’ Taylor says. The laughter’s gone now, and his voice is serious. His eyes are on the road, so he can’t see the pulse jumping in the hollow of my neck.
‘What do you think?’ Taylor asks.
‘It makes sense,’ I say, knowing my voice sounds funny.
Then there’s silence between us, but it’s not the cool kind at all. The quiet is a warmth hovering in the car, like someone’s suddenly started a tiny fire.
Chasing Powder
Young Blood The Naked And Famous
Punching in a Dream The Naked And Famous
Ghosts ‘n’ Stuff (NERO Remix) deadmau5, Rob Swire & NERO
We Own the Sky M83
Radioactive Imagine Dragons
Whatever It Takes Imagine Dragons
Mountain at My Gates Foals
WILD Troye Sivan & Alessia Cara
In My Head MAALA
Crazy MAALA
Love You Better Feki & Glades
You Got Me Feki & Dom Vino
Down Andrew Belle
In Your Eyes Nick Wilson
Instant Messenger Conversation
Wednesday 12 June, 6:43pm
Taylor Hellemann: You’re not going to believe what just happened. Issy and I went into town, she went to the chemist, and I lined up at the burger place, and GUESS WHO was behind me? ELLIE.
Finn Williams: Ooh! How IS she? Did you say hi from me?
Taylor Hellemann: No, I didn’t.
Finn Williams: Well, that’s just rude.
Taylor Hellemann: It really wasn’t relevant, dude, especially as her boyfriend was in the line too.
Finn Williams: Okay, THAT’S a little awkward.
Taylor Hellemann: It wasn’t actually. I don’t think I told you this, but I was honest with Ellie after our date. I told her I thought she was awesome, but I had feelings for a friend of mine. And she was really cool about it, all ‘you should tell the girl how you feel’. Anyway, she obviously met someone she liked, which is great. Her boyfriend seemed like a nice bloke – we all had a chat while waiting for our orders.
Finn Williams: So if the three of you were burger besties all of a sudden, what’s the issue?
Taylor Hellemann: Right as Ellie was asking me, ‘So, did you end up telling that girl that you have feelings for her?’ Isolde joined us.
Finn Williams: %^&*
Taylor Hellemann: Right?!!?? I gave Ellie a DON’T SAY ANOTHER WORD look, and thankfully she realised that Issy IS the girl, and she swiftly introduced herself and changed the subject.
Finn Williams: Total save. Ellie’s a legend.
Taylor Hellemann: It was a good save, but the damage was done. Issy overheard what Ellie said. I could see it on her face. She KNOWS, Finn, SHE KNOWS.
Finn Williams: And?!!? Is it SO BAD that Isolde knows how you feel?
Taylor Hellemann: I wanted to tell her. I made up my mind today in the car on the way home. We had this convo – about friends and more than friends, and . . . I want to go for it. I know we live in two different countries, and it’s complicated as anything, but I won’t be able to forgive myself if I DON’T tell her.
Finn Williams: I won’t be able to forgive you either, after all these months of being your relationship counsellor. Give me some payoff already.
Taylor Hellemann: I wanted to tell her. As in ‘I’ – ME, Taylor. And now ELLIE’S told my best friend I’m in love with her.
Finn Williams: So what did Issy say to you?
Taylor Hellemann: Nothing. We took the burgers back to her place, and now she and Vi are serving up bowls of ice cream like ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD, and I’m having a meltdown. She can’t have feelings for me – or she wouldn’t be flat out pretending that moment with Ellie didn’t happen.
Finn Williams: You know WHY she’s not saying anything? Because she wants you to tell her yourself. After all this time – you owe her that. So when are you going to do it?
Taylor Hellemann: During this Mount Cook trip, I think.
Finn Williams: Okay, GOOD. Any idea how?
Taylor Hellemann: Nope.
Isolde
Thursday 13 June
‘So, did you end up telling that girl that you have feelings for her?’ the gorgeous girl asks Taylor just as I walk up to them. My heart drops out of my stomach at the words. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Taylor shoot the girl a zip it! look.
Because of me, of course.
I think of all the things we’ve talked about the last few days, no filter between the two of us.
But he still doesn’t want to talk to me about this one thing.
I put on my best poker face as the girl introduces herself. Ellie. We chat for a while about Cardrona – she’s thinking of heading up there for the first time tomorrow with her boyfriend.
Taylor and I head back to the car with the burgers.
‘She seems nice,’ I say about Ellie.
I’m trying to make small talk, but it’s hard. Since I landed in Queenstown, Taylor has spent every day with me. There hasn’t been anyone calling him or texting him besides Finn, or his parents, so I’ve wondered if maybe this thing with the other girl, the one he’d created the playlist for, had fizzled out, just like Ana had suggested.
Not wondered. That’s a lie. I’ve convinced myself of it.
Even worse . . . I’ve started to let myself hope that he feels something for me. The way he held me out on the deck the night of Vi’s wedding as we danced and the snow came down. His hand at my cheek on the Captain’s chairlift, brushing the snow from my skin. The look in his eyes at that moment.
Our conversation in the car this afternoon.
You only saw what you wanted to see. Just like you did three years ago.
‘Yeah, she’s a pretty c
ool person,’ Taylor replies, interrupting my thoughts.
‘How do you know her?’ I say as we head up the path to the carpark entrance.
Why does his face look funny? I think, looking over at him. Maybe he feels like I’m prying.
‘Um, she’s the girl I took on the date back in April. You know, the one I said I didn’t really have a connection with.’
My head is spinning. I have to look down at the ground because I don’t trust myself not to lose my footing.
Ellie. The one with the boyfriend back there.
I know from Taylor’s voice that he’s telling the truth. It really had been one date.
So, did you end up telling that girl that you have feelings for her?
That playlist was about someone.
Not Ellie. Someone else.
I’m starting to think it’s smarter to start off as friends. What do you think?
I look up from the path and see that Taylor’s staring at me. As soon as my eyes meet his, he quickly looks ahead at the car. He pulls his keys out of his pocket and hits the ‘unlock’ button.
I’m not capable of saying a word on the three-minute drive up the hill. Back home, I go on autopilot, getting out plates for burgers, forcing my fingers to stay steady.
It can’t be me, I think again. It can’t be. We’ve been alone together so many times this week. If Taylor felt that way about me – wouldn’t he have said or done something by now?
YOU haven’t said anything, Isolde, I think.
That’s because I’m too scared. What if he only sees me as a friend?
Maybe he’s worried about the same thing.
Taylor
Thursday 13 June
The drive from Queenstown to Mount Cook village is over three hours. Issy is in the car with her mum and dad, and I’m in my parents’ four-wheel drive. When we stop at Twizel so the drivers can have a coffee break, Issy switches cars. She smiles at me as she climbs into the back seat, but her eyes are sad.
The Long Distance Playlist Page 23