The Decuplets

Ski Trips Save Lives

Zach

As Gabe begged me to hit the slopes with him, Reece yanked me away aggressively.

"So, how did it go?" he asked expectantly.

"I couldn't do it."

His expression dropped. "Why not?"

"I walked upstairs and she was kissing Luke at her door."

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so'?"

"She's kissed a lot of boys, at least seven since you last called it off—"

"Gee, thanks!" I interjected sarcastically.

"Let me finish!" he said. "It doesn't mean she doesn't love you. It doesn't mean she wouldn't go back to you. She had me and still went back to you," he teased, before adding seriously, "She always does."

"I don't know, Reece, I don't know."

"At least give it a shot. Talk to her. For my sanity," he begged.

"Fine, fine, you're right!" I groaned, and he let me go.

But I didn't really plan on it.

I came to the sad realization that I have gotten in between her and a lot of boys. She could be happy with Reece or Jacob or Luke, but I keep holding her back. I need to give her space so she can give someone else a chance.

If it's meant to be, it'll come back to you, or whatever the saying is.

After a day of skiing, I put on new clothes and sat in the kitchen. I thought the cabin was empty; all my brothers and their girls went to lunch. However, I soon heard the laughs of Scarlett and Ella.

When she saw me, she froze. She whispered to Scarlett, and Scarlett nodded, silently leaving the cabin.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Hey," I replied.

"What are you doing? Everyone's at lunch."

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I guess," she said. "It started snowing really hard outside, and I was, um, too cold."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say or how to continue this conversation.

"Yeah, so...look, about last night—"

I cut her off. "You don't owe me an explanation."

"I just didn't mean to put you in an awkward situation or anything, that's all. I hope I didn't make you upset," she said, staring at the floor.

"Don't worry. Seriously, don't think about me. I don't want to get in the way of anything."

"You aren't!" she exclaimed.

"I am," I said solemnly.

She took a deep breath. "But maybe," she paused, sounding nervous, "I want you to get in the way of things."

"What does that mean?" What's with women and their riddles?

"I—"

"We should probably get to lunch," I said, suddenly standing up. I didn't want to harp on the Luke situation.

"Okay," she said weakly. I couldn't read her.

I walked over to the entrance and turned the doorknob, but the door wouldn't budge. "Something has the door stuck," I noted.

She stood next to me and peered through the small window. Snow poured down so thickly I couldn't see farther than my hand could reach. "Oh my God, there's like a foot of snow. That's why it won't move."