Never Winter Again

Chapter Three - BFFs

19 February 2020

Score: Barely Legal - The Strokes

Mark

When we reach the chalet, I'm faced with yet another issue...

"You have got to be kidding me!" I bang on the door to the so-called boys' room, which is still locked. "Didn't you come already?" I hear stifled giggles behind the door, but it remains locked.

"You can shower in our bathroom." Lydia says, standing in the doorway to the girls' room in a t-shirt and her snowboarding pants.

Heat washes over my body, as I stand there, looking at her. I guess it's the log fire. It has been burning the entire time we were outside.

Yet, I feel a little uneasy, looking at one of my two oldest friends. How come I haven't noticed before that her body's changed? She has curves now, that are highlighted by the way her snowboarding pants are hanging low on her waist and the plain black t-shirt she's wearing is hugging her chest a little too snug...

I shake the unwelcome thoughts away, my annoyance at the Universe, growing stronger by the minute.

Lydia does not have curves. She has not grown fucking breasts over last summer. The fucking Baby Lord, whom I'm still to teach a lesson for the little show he put up on the slopes, isn't drooling down his chin, checking her ass out from behind her back...

And I do not have a place to shower right now, which fucking sucks!

I let a loud breath out, before heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Lydia calls from behind my back.

"To the bar." I say, resignation ringing in my voice. "I need a drink! This whole trip is a nightmare! You kids are a pain in my ass! I never should have agreed to this!" I slam the door behind my back and stomp to the elevators.

The bar is on the second floor of the hotel and is currently packed. I glide into a stool at the bar and order a vodka coke.

The first sip slightly burns a sweet trail down my throat, dissolving my tension on its way. I look around, taking in my surroundings.

A group of boys about my age are sitting at the far end of the bar, drinking beer. Five middle-aged ladies are sitting in one of the brown-leather booths by the door, sipping on wine and laughing a little too loudly. Colin is standing by the door to the terrace, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He sees me and lifts his glass in my direction.

Great.

I raise my vodka coke in the air for a brief return of his greeting and turn my gaze away just in time to notice the killer blonde with mile-long legs, slipping into the barstool next to mine, grinning as if she has won the lottery.

"Heya, lovely! Care for some company?" She says in what must be the most annoying voice since Janice from Friends. "I'm Jane", she says, lifting her hand in the air between us.

"I'm not interested." I say, leaving her hand to hang in the air. She hesitates for a beat, but then lowers it.

"Grumpy, eh? Don't worry, I don't want to talk, either." She says, her smug smile holding a hint of all the stuff she'd prefer to be doing right now, instead of talking.

I sigh deeply, shaking my head. My eyes catch Colin briefly, who still hasn't gone out to smoke his freaking cigarette. He gives me a wicked grin and the thumbs up, cocking his head towards the bar.