Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

France, Summer Shutdown, Day Three

@LiamLawson40 Eating snow for your entertainment! - @JessicaBond57

@JessicaBond57 What about this video of you falling on your face? - @LiamLawson40

@LiamLawson40 @JessicaBond57 FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! - @danielricciardo

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FRANCE
SUMMER SHUTDOWN
AUGUST

"This was a bad idea." Max grumbles as I help him stand up.

I'm no pro at snowboarding, but I know enough to help him get to grips with the basics of it. He could have started with skiing, but I think he's trying to encourage me to spend more time with him, even if this is meant to be a group holiday. At least, I'm assuming that's why.

I hold his hands as best I can through these thick gloves, and he gives me such an unhappy look as I grin at him. He's not enjoying this at all.

Is it bad that I find it funny?

"Right, stay like that." I tell him, letting go of his hands so I can move his goggles down to cover his eyes. With that done, I grab his hands again. "We'll go down slowly together, okay? This is an easy slope—"

Daniel laughs as Yuki faceplants, losing one of his skis not that far from us. I shake my head at them and gently wiggle my feet to get my board to slip. As I move, I pull Max with me. His hands hold onto mine tightly.

"See, it's nice and slow." Around us, there are plenty of novices, and a few parents teaching their kids, who are either having fun or not enjoying themselves at all. The cold air bites at what little exposed skin it can find, and as we slowly glide down the slope, Liam flies by on his snowboard with a triumphant yell.

I begin to lean back slightly, pulling him gently so that he's leaning forward; we turn at a mild angle, avoiding a small lump of snow that might unsettle him.

"You've got this."

"I really don't." His hands are gripping mine for dear life as I start to let go. "No! Wait!"

I pry his fingers off me, and he starts to stare at me through his goggles with a look of betrayal. A laugh escapes me, despite my attempt to stifle it. He has balance, he's just lacking in confidence, which is strange to see. The Max Verstappen, runaway leader of the current season, is unsure of something.

"Just follow me."

"HOW?!"

His sheer panic sends me into a fit of giggles. I force myself to stop, reaching out with a hand which he quickly grabs with both of his, sending himself forward as his board comes off the ground— I end up collapsing on top of him as we both fall. Thankfully, we've not snapped our boots out of the housings on the boards, but we are both lying in the cold snow like idiots.

"Remind me: why did I agree to this again?" He asks, sounding frustrated, yet there's a slightly teasing tone in his voice.

"Because you—" I can't say it. I want to say a certain word, but anxiety strikes, paralysing my tongue briefly. I have to change what I'm saying. "—would be bored otherwise?"

It's not an answer. It's a terrible thing to say, because it doesn't even make sense. But I just can't bring myself to say, let alone think the words that would have come out instead.

The sound of snow being carved up as someone swerves to a halt near us pulls my attention away from Max's arms snaking around me. Mick pulls his goggles up, grinning from under his neck warmer that he's pulled up to his nose.

"You two okay?" He's trying to be helpful, bless him.

"Yeah, I made us fall over." I lie smoothly, taking out Mick's offered hand to get to my feet again. He helps Max up and offers to help us get down the slope, but someone comes crashing into the snow, face first, to our right.

It's Liam.

Daniel comes flying down on his skis, sliding to a halt near Liam as he laughs at the downed man. "You owe me twenty bucks!"

"You had a bet?" I ask, one brow raised.

"He said he'd make it down, full send."

"You idiot." I can't help rolling my eyes. Of course they're trying to be competitive here. Idiots, the lot of them.

The others are having fun, taking to the slope over and over in pairs, or alone. I stay with Max, at our slow pace. We take a while, but eventually, we're near the bottom of the slope and he's not feeling the need to reach out and hold onto me. I start to show him how I twist my hips whilst moving my lower back to achieve my turns, and after a few mistakes, he's getting the hang of it. All in one day. I shouldn't be too shocked by how fast he's picking this up: once he sets his mind to something, he gets it done.

"Perfect!" I cry out, clapping my gloved hands together as he mimics a sharper turn I'm trying to show him. His complaining has slowly died down into grumbling over the past few hours, and maybe now he'll stop it altogether.

"I feel stupid."

Or not.

"You're doing better than me when I was learning. And I had to learn on an indoor slope. I crashed into a kid, took him out and made him cry. His parents were so mad at me; they thought I did it deliberately." It's not one of my finest moments, but perhaps by sharing the memory, I might make him feel a little less stupid. "Anyway, so, we're gonna do the slide to a stop, okay?"

I show him, bringing my board into a sharp turn that leaves it horizontal, halting my movements. Max struggles to mimic it; he pulls through his legs, but the board comes up and I have to reach out to help him stay upright as he stops.

"Good! Much better than you were and it's what...? The third time you've tried it?"

"Seven out of ten!" I hear James shout as he comes flying down towards us, skidding to a halt in front of Max. "When I was teaching Jess that, she said it was better to fall on her arse. Did you know that's how she tried to stop herself the first couple of times we did it?"

"Shut up." My face is heating up despite the crisp, cold breeze around us. "It worked."

"And then you fucked your back up."

"And?!" I'm getting indignant because I know James has more than silly stories about me falling on my backside. If he wants to embarrass me, he could go nuclear, easily. He laughs off my reaction, looking up behind us. I turn my head and see Liam barreling towards us. He tries to stop but ends up going face-first into the snow again, as we all struggle to keep ourselves from laughing at him.