Who You Say I Am (A Jai Courtney Fanfic)

Chapter 54-Jai

Jai

Megan takes me to her parents room and goes through their closet.  "Is this why you waited for them to leave?" I tease. 
She laughs, "No.  I have my mom's permission... but I was going to do it anyway."
She grabs a new pair of boots that are still in the box from their walk in closet.  It's actually a pretty decent room—it looks like something out of a magazine.  I see a door open to a master bath that looks nice, too.  Her mum must be into modern decor.  The style is reminiscent of something you'd see on home improvement pay tv.  I see her grab a winter coat and other gear. 
"You're giving me everything?" I chuckle. 
"I don't want you to freeze," she says. 
I grin at that. 
"Would you wear snow pants?  I know these are brand new.  The tags are still on them," she questions. 
"Are you wearing some?" I inquire.  She nods.  "Sure," I shrug. 
She grabs them and I follow her up to her room. 
"I'm going to get changed.  I'll be right out," she says. 
I step into my room and try on what she handed me.  These boots are pretty nice. 
"Oh, don't walk around in the boots.  They're really uncomfortable," I hear her call out. 
"No boots," I mumble to myself putting most everything else on.  I feel like I'm going to the Alps or something, which I've never been. 
I hear her door open.  She comes out in those winter boots I saw earlier and full gear but her coat is undone and she has a hat in one hand, ski boots in the other.  She's wearing light blue and purple everything and she looks nice even though everything is large on her. 
"Does everything fit okay?" she asks. 
"Yeah," I nod. 
"Do you have regular boots?  Waterproof?" she inquires. 
I think about it and no... they're leather and treated but I doubt they'll be fully protected against the weather here.  I shake my head.  "I'll find you one of my dad's until we get there but he's probably worn them," she says. 
I follow her with everything in hand.  I see her fanning herself with her coat.  "Typical.  I'll probably be shivering outside.  Try not to make yourself sweat," she says as we descend the stairs.  I laugh at the comment. 
"Please explain to me how to tell your body that," I tease. 
She chuckles and looks back to me over her shoulder.  We get to the living room and she steps over to the front door.  She grabs a set of keys.  "Umm... I guess I meant don't overdo it or push yourself to a point where you would sweat," she clarifies. 
"Oh, that.  Yeah, I can do that," I grin. 
"We'll go out the back door," she says.  I follow her and she looks through some boots on a tray in their mud room.  "These should be dry.  We all usually have two pairs."
"Why's that?" I ask curiously as I sit at the bench and put them on. 
"One for work and one for play.  Sometimes they get soaked and that can be dangerous," she explains. 
I nod thinking that this weather is crazy.  I still don't know how anyone could live here.  We zip our coats up and put our hats on.  I can't help but think how adorable she looks in her little knit winter hat with a small visor like a baseball cap.  She opens the back door and we step out.  The first thing that hits me is the bitter cold.  The second thing is the snow covering their garden.  I've seen pictures but never been in this before.  It's all-consuming and frigid but breathtaking.  The trees and ground are covered in a layer of snow.  I'm wondering what this space looks like in warm weather because I just can't picture it now.  I stride behind Megan as she walks a cleared path to their detached garage.  It's almost like a barn it's so big.  I follow her into a side door.  It's a pretty large space but it's neat—everything is organized with its own place.  There are bicycles up on racks, miscellaneous tools all with their own space, gardening supplies, and more.  I see Megan grab some skis and smile at me.  She passes me the set and gets her own.  I see her lean it over her shoulder and I follow.  She opens the boot to a 4WD in the garage and we put the skis inside. 
"Is this yours?" I ask. 
"This is my mom's.  Mine's the little red hatchback covered in snow outside," she says waving dismissively beyond the garage door.
I open the passenger's side door and I'm actually excited about going out with her.  This isn't a dream holiday... but it kind of is.  She starts the ignition, turns the heater on, and opens the garage door.  She fiddles with the radio for a minute while the car warms up.  I watch her as she decides what she wants to listen to.  She meets my eyes and smiles.  She clicks her seatbelt and so do I.  Before long we're off down her driveway.  I can actually get a look at her neighborhood even though it's covered in snow.  There's lots of older homes but they're nice.  Most of them are made of brick.  The garden size is pretty decent, too.  I see neighbors using snowblowers—what I assume woke me this morning.  We drive down her road and everyone waves. 
"Friends of yours?" I ask. 
"I know a few of them," she shrugs.  "Everyone in this town is just really friendly."
"Really?" I ask surprised by that.  LA is nothing like that.  It's on par with New York for rudeness and cruelty sometimes.  Most everyone usually keeps to themselves. 
She hums a reply.  We turn down to another road and I realize the road is still covered in snow and slush.  It's been mostly cleared but there's still a bit there.  She makes another turn and we're out of the neighborhood and driving on what I assume are roads through the bush. 
"I didn't realize you were out in the bush," I comment. 
"Does that mean country?" she asks. 
"Thought you spoke 'Strayan?" I tease. 
"I've heard it used before.  I'm just questioning for clarification," she explains. 
"I think they're interchangeable," I nod. 
"What does outback mean then?" she asks. 
"Further out than the bush," I grin.  "Aka whoop whoop."
She starts laughing.  "I don't think I've heard that one before," she says trying to calm down. 
"I'm glad I get to teach you new things," I smile. 
She glances to me grinning.  We drive pretty far out.  I think she's going the speeds of the freeway but we pass a sign and I see that's the speed limit.  We stop at a four way and she turns continuing on the same kind of roads.  I see farms, farmer's fields, and some newly built homes.  It looks like some houses and farms might be abandoned since a few are boarded up, some kind of collapsing. There's a place with a sign that keeps chooks and sells eggs. Further on I see a place that grows Christmas trees and realize I really am up north.  We follow a swerving road and she slows down near a tree line.  She turns in and I see a park sign. 
"We're already there?" I ask surprised.  It's been maybe fifteen to twenty minutes. 
"Yeah, this one is pretty close.  It's my favorite," she says.  "There are other trails here but this one is a decent length for a first time.  Plus it has a pond."
"Okay," I nod grinning.  I can't believe how many trees there are.  They're really tall and still covered in snow.  It's beautiful.  If there weren't snow, it'd remind me if pictures of the other side of California... but the trees are different.  We get to a small car park and she backs in.  It's actually a little crowded—most of the spaces full.  I see people heading out or finishing up.  This is pretty interesting.  We climb out and sit in the boot while we change to the ski boots.  Megan helps me with the skis.  She hands me the poles and then gets herself ready.  She stands up and asks me to follow and of course I fall on my bum.  She's trying not to laugh. 
"Are you okay?" she asks worriedly. 
"Yeah, only my pride hurts," I tell her.  She laughs at that and reaches for me.  She tries to help me up but, sadly... I pull her down, too.  She's chuckling.  I can't help myself from laughing, too. 
When we both stop the hysterics, she grabs onto the boot, straightens her skis and rises.  She instructs me to do the same.  I try and actually succeed.  Once I'm on my feet, she shows me how to properly move in the skis. 
"You want to use your knees and ankles.  Push and glide," she demonstrates.  I watch her and attempt to do so... and I realize... I'm actually skiing. 
"This is gnarly," I tell her. 
She laughs grinning at me.  She closes the boot and locks up.  I see some picnic tables nearby and realize this really is like a regular park.  I've never heard of this actually done at a park.  I look around the car park and see tags on each auto from all the surrounding states.  I even see one from Illinois with Chicago bumper stickers.  "How far away is Chicago from here?" I ask. 
"Maybe a four hour drive," she says.  "That's in good weather and no traffic, though."
I nod.  So this really is a destination.  Ohio... who would've thought? 
"You ready to get to the trail?" she asks. 
I actually look around us and see how picturesque it is here.  "How about a photo?" I suggest. 
"Of the landscape or what?" she asks smiling. 
"The park and us," I request. 
"Okay," she grins.  "You stay there and I'll come over to you." 
I nod and watch as she kind of walks sideways with the skis.  She takes my phone from me.  "How about the selfie first?" she says coming closer to me. 
I immediately wrap my arms around her.  She takes it.  She looks gorgeous, there are the snow covered trees in the background, and some of the people skiing by.  "That's perfect," I tell her. 
"Why don't we go over there?  It's one of my favorite spots," she suggests motioning to the little bridge nearby. 
"Alright," I agree. 
I follow her and I'm actually doing pretty well.  She's much faster, though.  I catch up to her and see the view she was talking about. 
"Crikey," I say in surprise.  She wasn't kidding. 
"How about black and white?" she recommends.  "It gives it an Ansel Adams kind of vibe."
"Whatever you think," I tell her.  I've actually heard of that photographer—the one that does the black and white winter-scapes. 
She takes the picture and passes me back my phone.  I pocket it and we're off.  As we round the bend just past the bridge, I realize this really is quite a workout.  "Is this a good pace or am I going too fast?" she asks. 
"We're good," I tell her. 
"Let me know if you need to slow down," she says. 
"No worries," I tell her. 
I follow behind her and glance to the side.  "Is that the pond?" I ask. 
"Yeah," she laughs.  "What'd you think we just crossed on the bridge?"
"It's frozen," I tell her. 
"It is," she nods. 
I see some people go down there on skis.  "Can we cross it?" I ask her. 
"I wouldn't," she says. 
"Why not?" I question. 
"Because I don't believe it's solid enough.  There are signs over there from the rangers saying to stay off the ice," she points out and I do see the bright red writing. 
"That's enough of an answer for me," I say. 
"Yeah.  I'm not looking to get hypothermia," she agrees.  "How about I go a little slower?  We're here for the view more than the exercise."
"Sounds good," I agree.  I was just trying to keep up.  I actually hadn't looked around much but the view is worth it.  I actually see why people might live here... or visit at least.
We go downhill a bit and I get a rush.  This is pretty phenomenal.  We follow a track through the forest and I don't ever think I've been in the midst of a more beautiful landscape.  I find myself pulling my phone out and taking pictures of the landscape... and Megan whenever I can.  We take a break at what she calls the midway point.  We sit at a covered park bench and watch some people in a tent fishing on the ice.  I put my arm around her. 
"There are restrooms over there but they are outdoor and holes in the ground," she motions to a building. 
"That sounds terrible," I laugh. 
"I've used worse," she tells me.  "In Japan, theirs really were holes in the ground at a park.  Those actually have toilets and paper.  There's just no plumbing."
"Yeah, that does sound better," I say.  "How the heck do you use the other?" I ask dumbfounded. 
"You're supposed to just bend down," she tells me. 
"I still don't get it," I say shaking my head. 
She rises and crouches. 
"Are you actually showing me how to use the dunny in another country?" I laugh disbelievingly. 
"It's helpful," she says rising.  "I knew someone that peed their pants and not because they didn't make it.  They actually dropped trou and still got their pants somehow."
I throw my head back laughing.  "That'd probably be me and of course there'd be pictures all over social media," I guffaw. 
She both laughs and frowns.  I've really never seen anyone do that besides her.  She has such a tender heart. 
"Do you like all the fame?" she asks me softly. 
"Sometimes yes, sometimes no.  It's like I can never turn it off and be myself.  I can't lose my cool or have a weak moment because there's always someone watching," I tell her.  "I also get my worst moments put out there for the world.  I can't just goof off and it be private, you know?"
"I get it," she nods.  "What about the good parts, though?"
"There are very high highs," I tell her seriously.  "I remember the first time someone recognized me in public.  It was amazing.  I love my fans.  I wouldn't be out there without them.  I appreciate their support."
"Yeah," she nods.  "You want to head back out?  There's a pine forest just ahead.  It's beautiful and it smells good."
I laugh in disbelief.  "What else does this place have?"
"There are treehouse cabins you can rent," she tells me. 
"Now you're just telling tall tales," I insist. 
"No, really.  There's a campground over there.  You can rent treehouses."
"Anything else?" I grin. 
"When it gets warmer, you can see people horseback riding here.  I usually go trail running," she tells me. 
"Horses?" I question. 
"Yeah, you have to bring your own," she shrugs. 
I grin.  "Ohio, huh?"