Downhills From Here

Part 2: In the piste for the first time

The skiing instructor and the ski hire guy, whose name was Bob, of all things, helped me find the right-sized boots and skiing equipment. And then I got the picture of myself on skis, with the slopes in the background to send to Emma. I pressed send on the image and then nodded at the skiing instructor.

"Thanks, I can take these off now?" I wiggled my skis and would have fallen on my butt if the skiing instructor hadn't grabbed the front of my skiing overall and kept me standing.

"No." His mouth was a thin line but his eyes looked like he was laughing. "I take this inside in a locker and then you're coming with me." He grabbed my phone and my bag and disappeared inside for a few seconds and then reappeared with a cloakroom ticket.

"Bob will keep your phone and bag safe." He gave me the ticket and I stuffed it in my pocket. "So, this is how you move..." We had an impromptu skiing lesson on horizontal ground and after what felt like ages but probably was just about half an hour he said, "That's it."

"We're done?" I was almost shivering and had decided another hot cup of coffee would be okay.

I must have had too much hope in my voice because he grinned and shook his head as he strapped his skis on again.

"Not by a long shot, sweetheart. We're going to the kids' slope." He pointed to a small area further to our left, where we could see even tinier ants scurrying down the hill. Toddlers on skis. Was there anything more adorable? Or life-threatening. I held my breath as we watched one of the kids do a somersault, land back on his skis, and continue down as if nothing had happened.

I shook my head. "I don't think I'm ready for this."

"Sure you are, we'll start small." He nudged me with him and I followed reluctantly. "Why else are you here?"

"My friend got this trip as a birthday gift for herself but broke her legs so she couldn't go," I muttered under my breath, not sure if he heard or not. But that was basically why I was here. I'd much rather be back home, with Emma, sipping Pina Coladas, watching the hunks build a pool for her parents in their backyard.

We made our way to the bottom of the slope and he showed me how to walk sideways up the slope with skis on. When we were halfway up the slope he motioned to me to turn towards the bottom of the slope, which I did, and then I was off. I heard him shout something behind me, but the freezing air wooshing past my ears in an earsplitting shriek made it impossible to hear what he was saying.

He caught up with me just before I accidentally mowed down an unsuspecting toddler. We swerved together and then finally stopped when I did my version of a somersault and he stumbled over my flailing legs, our skis tangled together.

"Let's try that again." He said, getting up. He held out a hand to help me get up. "And next time, maybe don't scream like a banshee... you're scaring the kids." He nodded his head towards a group of children who had all just come down the slope, all of them staring and pointing at me. Whispering among themselves.

"I'm gonna die," I said as he pulled me up and held me at arm's length, trying to keep me steady on the skis.

"No, you're not. I'll help you." He lifted his skiing goggles and grinned at me again. "You have to remember to lean slightly forward in the shoes."

I stared down at my feet. They felt cemented stuck, and I wasn't able to lean anywhere, because they were stuck in the boots, and the boots were stuck to the skis.

"And I'll probably kill you in the process," I deadpanned and looked up at him. And suddenly it was hard to breathe. He was leaning closer, still holding on to my hand.

"Just remember to bend your knees." He let go of my hand and took one knee in front of me and for a second I realized how this would look to others. I wanted to look up and see if anyone was watching, but I couldn't pull my eyes from his face as he grabbed my knees and forced me to bend them.

Under the scarf, goggles, and hat, he looked quite handsome. "I... I don't even know your name..." I continued. "I mean, what do I write on the condolences?"

"Jonathan," he said and chuckled. He extended a gloved hand as he stood up. I shook his hand and despite the stiff gloves, I could feel his strength.

"I'm Jenna," I said and stared lovestruck into his eyes. I wasn't lovestruck though. Far from it. Although I could see he was handsome. A female magnet. I sucked in a breath. Same as he had done when he had seen Emma's bikini pic. "Thanks," I finally managed to get out and let go of his hand.

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by some giggles behind me.

"Jonathan, why are you wasting your time here? We need your expertise! Paige is thinking of going up to the black piste..."

With a glance over my shoulder, I spotted who had interrupted our tete-a-tete. It was one of the blondies. And she was all good looks, with natural makeup and pouty soft lips. She looked like the perfect ad for skiing trips to the Alpes. Straight from the catalog with her white overall and rosy cheeks. I rolled my eyes.

"You need to help us, Jonathan! We can't talk her out of it," one of the other blondes said.

"Yeah, I'm definitely going to the black piste!" The blonde who I assumed was Paige didn't sound so sure. "Kate and Phyllis don't want to come, could you come with me?"

"Sure," Jonathan said and glanced at me. "Don't break anything." He gave me a pat on my shoulder and what I thought was a wink, but I couldn't be too sure. The air was stinging ice cold, it was probably just a twitch in his eye. I watched the blondies swarm around Jonathan as they made their way towards the lifts to the black piste. They were all perfectly balanced on their skis and I watched until they got onto the lifts that disappeared up the mountain. Then I kicked off my skis and dragged them back to Bob.

"Done so soon?" Bob asked as he watched me dump the boots and skis on the counter.

"Yeah, I don't have any more death wish today. I'll try again tomorrow." I gave him a tight grin and handed him my cloakroom ticket. He grabbed my bag from the backroom and as he handed it over it started buzzing.

"It was buzzing a bit earlier too I believe. It's hard to know, so many phones back there." He indicated the room behind him and I just nodded, already busy fishing for my phone.

"See you tomorrow then?" He said, sounding hopeful. I just waved a "yeah yeah" at him, my focus already on my phone. It was Emma. I had ten missed calls. Eleven now. I grimaced. She was going to chew my ear off.

I ordered a normal coffee this time and found a quiet corner in the cafeteria to hole up in and settled in for a long phone conversation with Emma. Luckily there was free wifi, or I wouldn't be able to pay the phone bill this month. I grimaced as I hit dial.

"Jenna! Finally! I was so worried for you!" Emma almost screamed in my ear.

"I was in the pistes," I said, trying to sound like the blondies. Like I knew what I was doing.

"Oooh, in the pistes!" Emma ooh-ed and aah-ed for a bit about me actually going through with the trip. "I actually didn't think you'd go, you're such a homebody!"

I opened my mouth to protest, but then realized she was partly speaking the truth. I didn't want to go. The only reason I was here now, was because Emma didn't take no for an answer. I told her that.

"And that's good!" She interrupted me. "Don't want to waste such an opportunity. Just a shame I couldn't change the name on my ticket, then you could have gone with Caitlin!"

"I don't think Caitlin would have come to be honest." I knew Caitlin hated the cold.

I spent almost an hour on the phone arguing with Emma about almost everything. She wanted to be here, I wanted to be there. I ended it when she started complaining about me letting her take her stepbrother's motorcycle. I should have stopped her, why didn't I. I pretended that some newly made friends just waved at me to come, so I was going back to the pistes and hung up. I had no intention of going back to the pistes. I was staying where I was, making a dent in the plush chair with my butt and in my wallet with another coffee.