No Two Are Alike

08 | ski pants are pants

Chloe looked in the mirror glumly.

Ah, bollocks.

The neon orange ski pants swallowed her legs in their monstrous jaws. With her green top, Chloe looked like a jack-o-lantern. Like a very short, humiliated squash. Behind her, Rowan made a noise of sympathy.

"Well, they're not that bad."

"Yes, they are."

"You could try another pair."

Chloe half-twisted around, exasperated. "I'm not sure if there's anything left in the store, at this point."

They had spent the last hour combing through Alpine Grove in an effort to find ski pants that didn't make Chloe look like a bowling ball. Ten pairs of ski pants, two minor meltdowns and a frustrated sales assistant later, and it seemed that it was all for nought.

Chloe glared up at the promotional photo of a happy couple frolicking in the snow.

Stupid, smiling woman in her cute ski pants. How the hell did she manage to look so good in waterproof trousers?

"Maybe you could belt them," Rowan suggested.

"Belt them?"

"You know." Rowan mimed cinching the waistband. "To make them more flattering."

"I'll be wearing a winter jacket over top."

"Oh, yeah." Rowan deflated. "That's right."

"Oh, I give up," Chloe sighed. "This whole thing is pants." She shucked off the offending garment. "There's no way to look cute in them."

Rowan smirked. "Ski pants are pants?"

"Oh, shut-up."

Chloe looked at the neon orange ski pants morosely. When Logan texted her yesterday to invite her skiing, Chloe had been over the moon. She had been to Switzerland with the Winters once before — almost five years ago, now — and it had been a week of cheese fondue, après-ski drinks, and daring each other to roll around in the snow before jumping in the hot tub.

Unfortunately, Chloe had forgotten to take her outfit into account.

"Maybe I should just stay in the lodge," Chloe sighed. "Play Scrabble with Jack."

Jack notoriously hated skiing. He had fallen off a T-bar when he was twelve and claimed to be too traumatized to try it again. Chloe and Logan, on the other hand, shared a love for going off-piste and through forested trails.

Well, Chloe thought glumly, at least she would be easy to follow through the trees in these ski pants. Like the tail lights of a tractor. Or bike reflectors at night.

"Don't be stupid," Rowan told her. "Logan won't care."

"Yes, he will."

"Boys never notice these things."

"Logan will," Chloe said. "He loves fashion."

"Oh, yeah." Rowan's face fell. "Well, there must be something here." She began to rifle through the nearest clothing rack, shoving aside lime green fabric. "Maybe we should try a children's store. You are quite short, you know."

Chloe sighed. Oh, please, god, no; she cast her eyes desperately around the store. There must be something here. If she had to show up to Les Deux Alpes in ski pants with little unicorns on them, she would die. On the spot.

Her eyes landed on a familiar brunette.

"Kate?" she asked, surprised.

The brunette spun around. She was holding up a black jacket that looked at least six sizes too big for her.