Snowed in

Part 5

Jude

I could've sworn I've met Phoebe before. She feels so familiar to me, but I just can't place her face. I meet new people every day of my life, whether that's parents or nanny's of the kids I teach, new staff, or someone at the grocery store. But Phoebe feels different - and even though she claims we haven't met, I'll find out where I remember her from. Because even after just seeing her once, having one (although long) conversation with her, I've already committed her to memory. My eyes have already traced the space between her nose and her mouth, and remembered the colour of her icy-grey eyes. She's all I've been able to think about for the few days since I've seen her last. I've kept an eye out for her on the slopes, but she's yet to crash into me again. I mean, I had to take a day off yesterday because my sister Charlotte was sick and I needed to care for her, but the day before that, I didn't spot Phoebe at all.

I hate to admit how much that hurt me, how much my chest felt crushed when I didn't see Phoebe flying past me on her skis. I already missed talking to her, missed the softness of her laugh. Even though we only talked for a half hour or so, I felt like she understood me. Like we understood each other. It's not often I tell people about my family situation, I'm not asking for pity. But with Phoebe, it felt like I could tell her anything, so I did. I let her read a section of my heart, the one labelled family. The one that I don't let run my mind very often, the one I don't even let cross my path.

I'm finishing up a day of teaching, and trying to ignore the aching in my chest. I've almost had whiplash today, always looking up at the slopes any time I see someone go past. But none of them are Phoebe, none of them share her confidence.

As my last kid skis past me, towards the bottom of the slope, I finally let my mind wander to warmth. I can't wait to sit somewhere warm, and let my hands thaw. Today's been colder than usual, and it's taking my body a while to adjust to being out here all day, snow falling all around me. As the kid skis past me, I reach out to give her a high five, but am almost knocked off of my feet. Air whooshes past me, and I turn my head, confused as to what just happened.

My gaze focusses on the skier in front of me, who's stopped in the middle of the snow, and started to take their goggles off. I do the same, unable to stop a grin spreading onto my face.

"See how good of a skier I am? I could have hit you, if I wanted to, but I didn't." The girl says, twisting her mouth into a smirk. 

"Phoebs, you can't just keep near-missing me, and expect me to believe that you have good spatial awareness. That proves nothing." I retort, unable to stop a grin for overwhelming me. Seeing Phoebe again, after just a few days of silence, pulls at something inside of me, and opens me to a new world of feelings that I haven't yet explored.

Phoebe pulls her soft lips into a pout, the expression remaining on her face as she takes a step closer to me. At the sound of my name, I quickly turn around, only to high-five the remaining kids in my class, and tell them I'll see them later.

"Where have you been?" She asks me, leaning against the pole of her ski, and narrowing her eyes.

"Where have you been?" I respond, my tone lighthearted and mocking. Phoebe giggles softly, shaking her head.

"Ok fine. I was sick the other day. Just a small cold, but my Grandma insisted that I lay in bed with chicken soup for a whole day. But when I got here yesterday, I didn't see you."

"So you went home?" I ask, raising my brow at the connotations of her words. Did she mean that she came to the slopes yesterday so that she could try to find me?

Phoebe rolls her eyes, crossing her arms yet continuing to smirk. "Ok maybe. But only because I was still sick and cold." Bullshit. I can see right through her, but I simply nod, satisfaction haunting my expression.