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1
CLAY
Chills race across my damp skin as a windy gust wraps around me and slips underneath my coat. The sun has just crossed the eastern mountains and the morning rays filter the view, casting orange and gold streaks across the snow. I’ve been waiting for this moment for the last hour, and now that it’s here, it’s like a balm to my soul. To me there isn’t a more beautiful place on this earth than the Blue Ridge mountains, and just being here calms me.
“Remind me again why I complain about being famous?” Ash says, panting as he comes to stand next to me. I tear my gaze away from the horizon directly in front of us to smirk at him.
Ash is my best friend. He has been since the day my family became his almost twenty years ago. He is also my business partner, and he knows me probably better than I know myself.
“I don’t know,” I tell him, pulling on the black scarf wrapped around my neck to make sure it’s tight. “I’ve always been a b-big fan of using our elevated status to our advantage.” A cloud of white chases my words in the brisk cold air, and I watch as it dissipates in front of me.
Ten years ago, Ash and I started the country band Blue Horizons. We played in local bars here in our hometown, Horizons Valley, North Carolina, as well as others near the college about forty-five minutes away. Five years ago, our dreams of making it big were realized when we were invited to sign with a large music label in Nashville and go on tour. The first year we were the opener, but very quickly we became the headliner. We’ve been on the move ever since, that is until recently.
“Elevated status!” He barks out a laugh and shoves me in the shoulder. I lean into the snowboard propped up next to me to catch my balance. “I bet. I saw the way that girl in the lodge was flashing her eyes at you. It’s clear she wants to help you with more than just an early lift ticket,” he teases.
My mind tries to conjure up what that girl looked like, but nothing appears. I wasn’t really paying attention to her; I was more focused on her getting the lift turned on so we could quickly get up the mountain. I’ve spent every winter on these slopes, and it wasn’t until last month that Ash decided to join me. He’s new to skiing, and the lack of an audience watching us is greatly appreciated. I’m not gonna lie, though—what I did notice was the girl giving me the once-over instead of Ash, and it made me feel good.
Ash is the voice of our band, and because of that, when we joined the label, the band name changed to The Will Ashton Band. He wasn’t happy about the change, and honestly neither was I, but how do you get so close to your dream and then say no because of a small technicality like the name? All I’ve ever wanted was to play music, and that was what they were offering us. I just didn’t realize at the time how this would ultimately make me feel—second best.
It’s not his fault I feel this way. These are my own issues, but after the last couple of months, they’re ones I’ve finally decided I’m fed up with.
“I noticed, but I’ll pass,” I tell him. There have been a lot of girls flashing their eyes at us over the last decade, and it got old really quick.
It’s December twenty-sixth. It’s been ten days since I last sawher, thirty days since I last touched her, tasted her, and listened to her laugh. I should be ready to wash away the memory—after all, as it turned out, it was just one night—but I’m not yet.
I can feel Ash watching me, looking for cracks in my standard laid-back composure, but he won’t find any. That’s the thing about me: I learned early on that it doesn’t do any good to dwell and sulk on things that can’t change, so I’ve pieced myself together—the way the world wants me—with an indestructible super glue.
Taking one last look across the serene white peaks, I let out another breath and shove the ski goggles into place. I love winter. It’s my favorite time of the year, and to me there is nothing more beautiful than standing at the top of a mountain staring out at an endless vision of white.
Down the hill I can see people on the chairlift headed our way, which means our alone time with the fresh powder is over. I’m grateful the resort let us in early on such short notice. I needed these runs before word got out that we are here.
“Clay . . .” Ash is frowning. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and Emma?”
Just hearing her name causes a quick stab to my heart. I make sure my ear band is in place and pull the Velcro of my gloves tight over each wrist. I need to go. I need this conversation to end.
“There’s nothing to tell.” And there isn’t. Kind of hard to misinterpret seeing her jump into another man’s arms while laughing and kissing him . . . kissing him in a way that wasn’t just friendly. It was way more than that.
“I don’t believe you,” he says, following my lead by pulling up the chin portion of his fleece balaclava over his mouth. “You’re different. You’ve changed over the last couple of weeks.”
Changed . . . maybe so. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, I don’t know yet, but I’m leaning toward good. It’s good for me. As for everyone else, whatever.
“It is what it is, man. Let it go.” My tone makes very clear how I feel about the topic of Emma.
With that said, I drop the snowboard, strap in, and point my lead hand down the fall line. The board turns, my weight shifts and tips over the edge.
Freefalling.
Surfing on clouds.
I swear being on a snowboard is the most exhilarating ride. The adrenaline has my heart pounding, and my hands tingle with excitement. The high from this rivals that of performing in front of a sold-out sixty-thousand-person stadium and the night we won our first Grammy. Feeling the pull of the powder, I lean back onto my heel edge, shifting my weight toward the tail. Back and forth, toe to heel, I cut the turns and lose myself to the pitch and speed.
I also lose myself to the unwanted thoughts of Emma. Thick wavy brown hair, big brown eyes, petite frame, and a spitfire personality that’s infectious and addicting. It doesn’t surprise me that Ash asked; he’s been wanting to for a few weeks now. There’s just nothing to tell.
I met Emma the same night Ash met his girlfriend Avery. They happen to be best friends, just like us. She and I hit it off, just like they did, only their situation and relationship progressed differently than ours. Yes, maybe I was a little caught up with Ash and Avery’s story, and yes, maybe I liked the idea of my best friend and me falling for best friends too, but I should have been more realistic and looked at the glaring truths of our interactions instead of getting swept away with a Hollywood-type ending. She wasn’t as into me as I was her, and thankfully I saw this with my very own eyes.
Could I have fallen in love with Emma? Yes—easily. Am I glad I didn’t get the chance? Absolutely.
Personally, I think love sucks. Once the initial grandeur of that overwhelming intoxication wears off, it’s nothing but disappointing and fleeting. It makes that happiness people find within themselves dependent. It’s an irrational emotion that can alter the core of who you are in an instant. It creates vulnerability, self-doubt, and irreparable wounds. Why I considered opening myself up to this after seeing how it’s affected others, like Juliet, I’ll never know. Thank God I wised up when I did.
