Holly head Slopes

Chapter six

His name wouldn't escape my head for the whole night. Mason Dugray. It sounded grand but tough; it was perfect for him. I typed his name on Instagram with the suspicion that he's a young Holyhead legend. My jaw dropped to the creamy living room carpet when I saw his follower count.

Five hundred thousand!

"Holy shit." I gasped aloud. Multiple sets of eyes landed on me, which made me aware of my surroundings.

This man was famous. And I looked like a fan girl wearing his name on my back—no wonder the girls were laughing at me.

"Sorry, group chat drama." I innocently smiled and retracted my phone to my chest.

"God, I miss that stuff. Now it's all about drop off and pick up." Auntie Rose sighed. It wasn't so bad when Jordan and I were at school together, but the miracle twins meant my Mum only kept her company at the school gates on occasion. She secretly misses getting involved with school plays and educational trips.

Dugray's Instagram was full of mountain pictures, specifically of him with snowboards. There was no proof this man wasn't a handsome Yetty. Finding a background that wasn't snow was like finding a needle in a haystack. Until a picture of him standing on the top step of a podium caught my attention. I clicked to analyse what I was seeing.

Mason Dugray had won gold in the youth Winter Olympics!

He was wearing the same jersey I currently had. I was snuggled up in an Olympic champions jersey and hadn't even known.

Girls swarmed his comments and likes as expected, but he didn't reply. He probably didn't have time. I zoned out, staring at him, proudly holding his gold medal. His smile was infectious, and the bright snow glowed on his skin. He looked on top of the world, but he had just won gold, so that's not shocking. What was shocking was my grin as I admired him.

"Johnny, get off," Frankie yelled before jumping on me and making me do the worst thing imaginable.

Like his photo!

I gasped and unliked the post from last year. Holy shit! He's going to see it. He's going to know I was stalking him.

Kill me now.

My roommate always told me to make a 'Finsta' to avoid such situations. However, the backup plan was to set your account to private and change the profile picture and name. Then pray to God they believe it's a spam account.

The twins jumped off me when they saw my temper rise, clever boys. I sprung into action to save my pride. But I was too late!

MASONDUGRAY liked your post.

Fuck!

He had retaliated. His chosen post was the photo of me in tight jeans and a tiny crop top paired with a red cowgirl hat and boots. It was for a Halloween frat party. I loved the photo, but my party pic hardly compared to his Olympic medal!

My hands were tied; he was now aware of me. Stupid Instagram baited my stalking; Facebook would never do that to me.

"Hey, Jord," I called as he unsurprisingly walked down the stairs in search of snacks. He nodded, signalling me to join him, to which I didn't hesitate. "What do you know about Mason Dugray?"

"Shouldn't you know? You are wearing his..."

"Jordan! What do you know." I said, cutting him off.

He searched from the impressively full fridge and continued. "He grew up here and lives on the slopes. He was competing in big majors and outperforming the hotshots. He made it to the county team and then started boarding for the country. He's been quiet the last few years, an injury or something."

That was a lot of information to process, but I did ask for it. "That's his Wikipedia done. What do you really know about him?"

Jordan rolled his eyes at me and stuffed a sausage roll into his mouth. "He's cool. We've boarded a few times together. Plus, his parties are legendary. He's a playboy, though, so if that's your winter break mission, be prepared for girls coming for you with their ski poles and Dugray to have another girl waiting outside the door when you're done."

"Why do you think I want to hook up with him?" I asked with offence. My life didn't revolve around easy sex.

"Because every girl wants him. And you are wearing his name."

"Thanks for stating the obvious." I sarcastically said and stole a grape he had now decided to devour.

Every girl wanted him. Why? Because he was talented, a champion, successful, drop-dead gorgeous and had a fiery attitude?

Okay, I understand. But that didn't mean I was one of those girls. I was pissed that he made me the gossip of the restaurant and ruined my jumper. So far, all he had done was cause inconveniences in my life.

I spent hours tossing, turning, and reading, but nothing made me sleepy. My mind was still running wild about Mason Dugray. Maybe he wouldn't remember me? I don't look as glamorous as my Instagram, and it's not like he knew my name. Or perhaps he didn't run his account; famous people have staff to do that. He hadn't uploaded in a year, so he wasn't active. But that contradicted his speed of liking my post. This is why I couldn't sleep. He was invading more room in my brain than my college work and my book combined. I stare at his jersey across my room and vow to never think of him again.