Aspen
It’s my day off and I’ve been riding since the resort opened. I’m exhausted, but I can’t stop training. I don’t get many days off so I have to practice as much as I can when I do have the time. It’s a bit past five, and I decide I’m only going to do a couple more runs until I call it a day. I trained with Raul this morning. He gave me exercises to practice after he left me around 10:30. I've been practicing what he showed me over and over again. I skipped lunch today and replaced it with a bump of snow and now my stomach is retaliating. Maybe I’ll head out after this run to grab some fuel.
I ride down the steep mountain and do a couple of jumps here, a few flips there. Now, I’m about to flip off of the biggest ramp in the park. I’m in the zone. Nothing can break my focus. Nothing—except maybe a flash of lime green that shouldn't be there.
A girl. A beautiful one that’s naked, standing outside with her friend. It looks like they’re taking pictures. She’s moving around weirdly, like she’s trying to do some sort of dance.
Well, she’s not naked, per se. She’s in a bikini and fur coat, but she might as well be naked. Who would let her wear a bikini in the snow? Certainly not her father or boyfriend. I sure as hell wouldn’t. I don’t know why, but I inexplicably feel kind of possessive.
What the heck is that girl doing half-naked out here in these temperatures? What a dumb idea! She could get frostbite or something. It’s nearly winter! Well not just yet, it’s not negative oranything, but it’s still really cold. Certainly not warm enough to be in a swimsuit playing in the snow.
Women. They’ll do anything just for a freaking photo. Well, her photoshoot better not get in the way of my flip.
I remember the first time I attempted a flip, I broke my arm. But since then, I can land them with my eyes closed. Except for the Cab Quad Cork 1800 Mute Grab, the trick I’m still trying to land. I’m going to attempt to do it now. I just always need a second before I try. I breathe in, clear my mind, and then tip my board down.
My speed gets me down in no time and right back up to the top of the other ramp so I can flip. My board flips over and lands on the perfectly firm snow. Holy shit. I did it! I freaking landed the Cab Quad Cork 1800 Mute Grab!
“I did it. I actually did it.” I whisper to myself.
I’m about to internally cheer some more, but when I go to look ahead, I can’t see. My goggles have fallen down my face, covering my eyes. I don’t stop moving. I go to fix them, but everything is all out of whack, and I have to just take them off. Once I do, all I see are long legs. I look up and see the girl I was just admiring from a distance. Only now she’s coming closer by the second.
Before I can think, all I say is, “Watch out!”
I manage to stop right in front of her, knocking her off her feet and catching her in my arms.
She looks like she fell from heaven.
Her emerald-green eyes sting mine, and the impact of her fall takes my breath away. I forget what I’m doing, I forget who I am. All I know is that I want to know who this girl is and ask her if she fell from heaven.
“Hi,” she says, out of breath.
“Hi,” I say back.
“Sorry about that! I didn’t see anyone coming so I thought I could take a couple quick photos.”
She should be sorry. She could have gotten someone or herself killed! I want to tell her off so badly. How could she be so careless? I’m going to give her a piece of my mind. Well, that’s the plan.
Instead, I say with drool nearly coming out of my mouth, “It’s okay.”
Well, that confrontation went well.
She blushes like an innocent child. I stare at her, wondering where she’s been my whole life. I don’t even consider moving her until I hear…
“Uhhummmm,” her friend or sister or whoever it is clears her throat, causing both of us to realize where we are and how we look.
I take her hand to help her up. Once she stands, I register how tall she is. She must be nearly six feet tall, but I still tower over her. My fingers graze a long scar on the inside of her wrist. It’s old but deep, like something she’s tried to forget but never could.
“Thanks,” she says, cheeks rosy, “for, you know, catching me.”
She’s like a perfect little snowflake. She fell right out of the sky and into my arms.
Her beauty is unparalleled; her skin is fair, like a snowflake. Her hair is icy blonde, it’s almost white. I wonder if it’s natural.
Her beauty is not the kind found in paintings, not the kind measured in symmetry or lines. It is the whisper of her faint freckles scattered like constellations and in her lips which curve with the weight of unspoken stories.
“It was my pleasure, Snowflake.”
Of course I said that out loud. Real smooth. She probably thinks I’m weird now. There’s no use in asking her for her number now, I definitely just gave her the ick. I better get going.
