Ski Lodge

5// Sunday Church

Sunday

After an early lunch of a frozen pizza that Dr Patrick Greene ran to the Lodge's grocery store to buy, the adults decided to send me and Becker to the Lodge chapel to ask when the evening church service was. Our parents may all be doctors, but we do live in the South where church is not missed simply because we were in a different state and on vacation. While we were gone they said they would unpack and put together the rest of the schedule for the week.

So... I was stuck with Becker again.

We were bundled up in puffy jackets and boots, trudging through a layer of snow that fell early that morning. Becker's brown hair started to grow white with the dust of snow that fell on it. It looked soft, the snow against the muddy waves.

"I think our parents are determined to keep pushing us together," I said after some silence.

"Yes," he hesitated; he looked confused that I was talking.

"We don't have to talk," I sighed.

"The weather is so nice here," his brown eyes lit up, and he held his hands up to catch the light snowflakes that were floating in the air.

"It's snowing," I stated.

"Yes, it is!" He turned to me, "We rarely ever get snow in San Angelo! It's the edge of a desert."

"Deserts can be ice instead of sand," I pointed out.

"But San Angelo is sand." He grinned as he caught a snowflake over my head. I think he might like arguing with me.

"What sort of Lodge has a chapel?" I asked, trying to change the subject. I crossed my arms to stick my glove covered hands in a warmer place.

"A very old one," he replied, "and the chapel is open to anyone and anytime. It mostly exists to exist. And for weddings, I imagine.."

"Where is it?" I cut him off.

"Just a little farther," he crunched his feet into the snowy pavement, "up there!" He rested his hand on my shoulder and pointed forwards as if to guide my vision. I barely felt his touch due to the layers of coats I had put on before setting out, but it still shocked me all the same. Becker noticed me jump, and dropped his hand to his side.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he laughed.

"I wasn't scared!" I said defensively, "it was the electricity."

He delicately raised a single thick and intense brow in response.

"Look, there's a sign on the door," I pushed ahead, fighting the strange urge to smile.

The sign read:
December 26th

Sunday Service:
10am
6pm

"There, it's 6pm," I turned and started walking back to the lodge.

"Wait," Becker called out to me, "don't you want to explore a little!"

"No. I do not."

"Why not?" He smirked.

"Um.. our parents might think we're lost. We don't get service on this mountain. We could actually get lost. Many reasons!"

"I had more faith in your directional skills than those of a person who gets lost in an enclosed resort that loops in a square." He smirked.

The king of cocky. I glared and kept walking ahead.

"Besides," he caught up to me in two bounds, "our parents don't know how far away the chapel is from our house or how long we'd have to search the building to find the information."