“Come back to the apartment with us,” Frieda said to me as we lifted our boards off the snow. Bren grabbed my hand.
“Yeah,” Frey said. “Val will definitely want to meet you.”
“Don’t be such a –"
“Ladies!” Frey yelled over Frieda's head, cutting her off as he turned his attention to two blondes standing at the bottom of the bunny hill. They turned, one pouting, the other flashing him a lusty smile as they watched him approach.
“Where were you?” Pouty asked.
“Where was I?” Frey said incredulously, bouncing a finger off his chest. “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you all morning.” Lusty’s smile grew lustier.
“He’s so full of crap,” Frieda said, turning back to me. “So are you coming? Bren and I don’t have to work today, and Dag doesn’t start until later. I don’t know what the hell dust mop over there is doing, but who cares.”
Bren watched me, waiting. I wondered if I would have to tell my mother where I’d be, then glanced at my new board and felt guilt wash over me. I knew she didn’t really want me with Bren, but I couldn’t keep lying to her, not after what she'd done for me this morning.
“Coming?” Bren asked.
“Yeah,” I said, dragging out the word while I put together a plan. “Just give me a few minutes to clean up. And I have to talk to my mom. She bought me all this stuff this morning, so I should really go say thanks and tell her what I’m doing.”
“Okay,” he said. “Go talk to your mom. You can meet us when you’re finished.”
The sun sparkled in his eyes. When he got too painful to look at, I turned to Frieda. I was surprised when she took two quick steps toward me and curled her arms around my neck, but managed to hug her back before she stepped away. “Thanks for coming with me today,” she said. “See you later?”
I nodded, a happy warmth tightening my throat.
“We can get back this way.” Bren pointed off behind the lower lodge. “Can you manage the bunny lift by yourself?”
“Funny.” I pushed him and he let himself give until he stumbled, then he glanced over my shoulder.
“Hey!” He barked. Frey turned toward us. “Heading back.” Frey waved him off and turned back to the two girls.
As they walked away, Frieda leaned close to Dag and he dipped his head so he could hear her. Suddenly, they stopped and he turned around.
“Hey…Jenna,” he said. I stared at him with what I was sure was a hyper-curious expression. He hadn’t addressed me directly all day. Or ever.
“You did good today.” He said. “I mean, you’re learning fast. So…that’s good.”
As he stood watching me, I realized he was waiting for something that would dismiss him, put him out of his misery.
“Oh. Thanks. Thanks for letting me come up with you guys.”
He nodded, tried a flat smile, then turned back to Bren and Frieda. They waved and walked on past the lodge.
I leaned my board outside the sliders, then grabbed the door handle and stopped cold.
Through the glass I saw Tyler in his varsity jacket, balanced on crutches, and next to him a slim, bald man in a black polo shirt talking violently enough to bring the blood to his face and jabbing a finger. I followed his joust across to Mr. Neil, who was standing in front of the desk in a ski sweater and jeans – obviously attempting to take the day off – his palms raised in a calming gesture. My mother stood just behind him, a sympathetic look arranged on her face.
I heaved the door open and Tyler’s eyes immediately flicked to mine. His face paled.
“Your policies don’t apply here,” the jouster was saying. “This is cut and dried.”
“Not necessarily Richard. Now I can’t just get one side of the story and –"
“One side of the story? There is no story. There is no side. There is only what happened. I am telling you and my son is telling you what happened.” Tyler’s father, who looked so much like Tyler that anyone who glanced at him could get a good look into Tyler’s balding, angry future, slapped the back of one hand into the palm of the other.
“My son was on the raceway this morning during first tracks hour.” He slapped his palm again. “This group of snowboarders, these Bergans, who had no business on the raceway in the first place if they weren’t looking to cause trouble, deliberately attacked my son.” Another palm slap. “They shoved him down the gully and into the ravine, and then one of them – the cretin with the red hair – came after him. These are the facts. My son came home soaked. His knee is sprained. There’s a gash on the back of his head. What more evidence do you need for Christ’s sake Dennis? My son is a varsity athlete, what do you expect him to do during lacrosse season, host Pampered Chef parties with his mother?”
My legs went weak. I stood there, nauseated by the idea of Bren, of all of them, hurting anyone because of me. And just as suddenly I was furious that he had gone after Tyler when I had told him not to, that he had brought this down on my mother and Mr. Neil.
“I understand your frustration,” Mr. Neil said. “But I have to talk to the Bergans, get their uncle involved, see if there are any grounds…”
“You have grounds for immediate dismissal,” Tyler’s father said.
And just like that, my anger changed to absolute panic. It was what I had been afraid of moments ago…of losing him. The threat seemed to descend on us right away, like those birds that ate strawberries just as they turned pink, before they were even ripe enough for humans to enjoy. All you were left with were empty vines.
I folded my arms across my chest and saw my mother eye me as I took a few steps toward Tyler. I stopped a few feet away to indicate that he should hobble to where I stood, just out of earshot. He hesitated, still pale, the muscles in his neck tensing, then planted his crutches ahead of him and shuffled over. His limp looked exaggerated – he kept shifting the pressure from one leg to the other and moved too slowly – but there was a cut high on his cheekbone, and one of his knees definitely looked bigger than the other, although whether from swelling or an ace bandage I couldn’t tell. The two men, still arguing, didn’t even notice he had moved.
“What happened?” I asked stiffly.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“How do you know it was Bren?” I asked, staring at him. He wouldn’t make eye contact.
“What do you mean, ‘how do I know?’ I saw them.”
“Riders wear helmets. It’s kind of a policy here,” I said. “And it’s cold in the mornings, so I can’t imagine that they didn’t have hats and scarves and all kinds of stuff on their faces."
“So?” Tyler stared at the floor.
“So it doesn’t seem like you’d know for sure. If it was them. Not for sure.” It was like my words weren’t my own, like I was following a script. I didn’t even recognize myself.
His head jerked up, his eyes narrow. “What are you saying?”
I shrugged. “I’m just saying that, you know, you got a pretty good bump on the head last night – although you clearly told your father it happened this morning. So if you don’t remember the facts surrounding that, then I’m just concerned about what else you might not be remembering clearly.”
Tyler’s mouth turned down in a scowl. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” Then his expression smoothed again. He nodded. “Ah, I get how it is. You have something going with one of those guys, right? That’s why you didn’t want to do anything. Probably that guy Bren, now that Brianna’s moved on.”
That hurt, but only for a second.
“So those guys came after me because of you.” He leaned in close, his scowl returning. “My knee is sprained because of you. I miss lacrosse season because of you, you little bitch.”
“Jenna,” my mother said, casting a vigilant glance in our direction. "What’s going on over there?”
I held up a hand. “One sec, Mom.”
Tyler’s father w
as still jabbering at Mr. Neil.
I glared at Tyler, my eyes slits, my jaw clenched even as I kept a smile on my face to make the discussion appear friendly. “Listen, Tyler.” I said. “People make mistakes all the time when they’re trying to remember things. I thought that I may have made a mistake in remembering what you did to me last night, for example. But if you’re saying that your memory is that good, even with that giant bump on your head and getting attacked this morning and all, well then, I guess my memory about last night has to be at least that good.” I smiled wider. “That’s nice to know, that I can recount every detail of what happened last night to the proper authorities with absolute certainty.”
Tyler paled again. The line of his mouth wavered, as if he couldn’t decide whether to be happy or sad, then he shook his head, eyes blazing.
“You little bitch.”
“You said that.” I stepped around him, my mother still watching me, and went over to Mr. Neil.
“Excuse me,” I said, standing between Mr. Neil and Tyler’s father. They stopped talking and looked at me. “This wasn’t any of my business until I heard you mention the Bergans,” I said, flattening a hand against my chest, “but I’ve talked to Tyler and now I feel like I should speak up.”
“What is it, Jenna?” Mr. Neil asked. Tyler’s father was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear what happened to Tyler this morning. I don’t know anyone here who would do something like that. But it definitely wasn’t Bren, or any of the Bergans,” I said. Tyler remained silent behind me as his father rolled one hand for me to continue. “I know first tracks are for the season pass holders and employees, but I figured since my mother manages the hotel it would be okay for me to use the hour, too.” I looked at Mr. Neil, hoping to get him on board early.
“That’s fine, Jenna, you’re welcome to the same privileges as the employees,” he said.
“Can we continue please?” Tyler’s father said.
“Thanks.” I smiled at Mr. Neil, then glanced at Tyler’s father. “Sorry. I just want to make sure I don’t leave anything out. So I ran into the Bergans as soon as I hit the lift. I was with them in the terrain park all morning. I just told Tyler, and he agreed that it had to be someone else. It’s not really Tyler’s fault, though. It was cold and everyone wears something on their faces…in the mornings especially. It makes everyone look alike.”
Mr. Neil, Tyler’s father, and my mother searched for objections in each other’s faces. When my mother didn’t see any, she scanned my expression, and found one. She knew I was lying. Thankfully, the other two were clueless.
Tyler’s father closed his eyes and drew in a breath, gritting his teeth. “Tyler,” he said, “did you allow me to come down here screaming for the heads of four innocent people, without being absolutely certain who it was on that run this morning?”
“I really thought it was them,” Tyler’s voice was small behind me. Relief turned my bones to paste. “Until I talked to Jenna, I was sure.”
“Well,” his father said, exhaling, “a pretty girl will do that to you.” His expression remained grave, but he winked at me. I tried to smile, wanting only for them to leave. “Let’s find out who was on that slope this morning,” he said to Mr. Neil. “I’m not going to be satisfied without a pink slip, or a law suit. We can’t have this kind of thing here.”
“We certainly cannot,” Mr. Neil said. “We’ll look into it first thing.”
“Good, then.”
The men shook hands. Then Tyler’s father nodded to us and walked out through the front lobby, Tyler hobbling behind him.
My mother stared at me.
“Well,” Mr. Neil said. “That was fun.”
My mother shook her head and crossed one leg over the other as she leaned against the desk, her pointy heel digging into the carpet. “That poor kid,” she said.
Mr. Neil laughed, glanced behind him and turned back to her. “That poor kid is going to have a statue of himself toppled by an angry mob one day.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Put it this way. When Richard came in here yelling that my employees tried to kill his son, I had to think back to be sure I hadn’t hired anyone to do it.”
My mother held her laugh for a second, then gave in.
Once Mr. Neil left, the reception room fell silent and my mother leveled her gaze at me.
“I don’t know what worries me more,” she said. “That you lied, or that you lied for him.”
“You don’t even know him,” I said softly.
“You’re right. But you knew I was concerned about your spending time with him, and yet you didn’t tell me you’d be with him this morning.”
“No,” I said. “But I honestly didn’t know I was going to run into them.”
“All right then. But you also stood here and told those men that you were with the Bergans during first tracks. But I know you weren’t. You were in the ski shop buying your equipment.” And the guilt of taking her gift and using it to spend the morning with Bren without telling her washed over me again.
“Mom.” I looked squarely at her. “What Mr. Neil said about Tyler…it’s true. Whatever happened to him out there today, I’m sure it was provoked. I didn’t want Bren or any of them to get blamed for…whatever it was that Tyler did.”
She nodded, but she didn’t ask me if Bren had done it. She stared at me for a long time, looking at me and through me, her face unreadable, then asked, “Was Tyler at that bonfire last night?”
I nodded.
Another long pause. “Was Bren there?”
I shook my head.
The seconds stretched.
Finally, she said, “Okay, Jenna. But we’re going to talk more about this later. About a lot of things.” She pushed herself off the counter, reached out and smoothed my hair. Then she kissed the top of my head and stood back, waiting for me to go.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“No,” she said. She gave me a warm smile.
I nodded, grasped her arm briefly as I passed her, and stepped back out into the cold afternoon.
Chapter 12