“Boy alert,” Liz called as we reached the bottom of Main Street and passed the half-pipe. I stopped beside her, shook the snow out of my hair (gingerly, because the ends of my hair were heavy with ice), and pulled off my goggles so I could see. Sure enough, Nick, Davis, and Gavin stood in line on the side of the pipe, waiting their turns and watching another guy bust ass on a 720 attempt.
“Oooh,” said the crowd around the pipe.
“Oooh,” echoed the people braving the snow to drink beer or hot chocolate out on the deck of the ski lodge. They were far enough away that their voices reached us a split-second later.
“Do you want to go and say hi to the boys?” Liz asked me. She was so sweet to ask me first. I knew she wanted some Davis time since she hadn’t seen him all day, but I’d told her how things had ended last night between me and Nick.
“Sure,” I told her. “I have to go back to school with Nick on Monday. No point in avoiding him now.” She took off her skis and I kicked off my board below the pipe, and we hiked up behind the boys in the center of the crowd of spectators lining the lip.
“Davis,” Liz called.
He looked back toward us, ducked his head so he could see us among the other spectators, and waved at us. Then he turned around to the half-pipe again. He and Gavin both leaned their heads in toward Nick so all three of them could share a laugh. I heard their cackles echo against the far side of the half-pipe. The whole crowd sighed, “Oooh.” And then I heard Nick say, “Fire-crotch.”
biff
biff
(bif) n. 1. crash 2. somebody bites it
Thinking back on it later, I realized I must have dropped my board without any regard to how far away it might have slid down the slope. I must have climbed to the rim of the half-pipe with surprising nimbleness, considering my usual trouble maneuvering in my boarding boots. I must have pushed five people aside. But all I remember is shoving Nick in the back and screaming, “Liar!”
He spun around with his dark eyes wide. It was the only time I’d ever seen him startled.
“Did you call me a fire-crotch in the lunchroom, Nick?” I shouted. “Did you? Does it really matter if you didn’t, when you called me one just now? You have got a lot of freaking nerve!” Panting, I managed to stop myself from saying anything else, because so many people around us were leaning in, listening, murmuring about the bet and the Poseur concert.
But what I’d said didn’t begin to tap how furious I was with him, and how hurt I was. He’d stood there in the snow at Mile-High Pie last night and made me feel sorry for him! He’d made me feel terrible for something I didn’t even do, after he’d lied to me to my face! And then he’d kissed me, and I’d let him!
Mortifying.
Now his lips parted. I waited to hear the next lie. I almost hoped it was a good one, so at least I’d have an entertaining story to share with my friends about what an ass he was.
But Davis spoke up first in a reasonable tone, like a psychiatrist soothing a loony. “We weren’t talking about you, Hayden.”
Gavin jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The kid in the pipe just busted his nuts on the deck.”
I glared at Gavin, showing him I didn’t buy his ridiculous story. Then, just to make sure he was lying, too, I stuck my head between him and Nick and peered into the pipe. A freshman lay at the bottom of the course, holding his crotch. As I watched, he slowly stood and used his board as a crutch to hobble out of the pipe. The spectators cheered like he was an injured football player walking off the field during a game.
Nick was watching me. Not glaring. Just watching me with an expression beyond hurt.
I took a breath, and couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Come on, Nick,” Gavin called. “You’re up. Better get your head in the game, if you know what I mean.”
Nick still watched me as he passed. Then all three boys turned their backs on me as they hiked above the pipe. Nick stepped onto his board and lowered his goggles.
“Here’s your board,” Liz said behind me.
“Thanks.” Absently I gripped the snowboard she slipped into my mitten. “I guess you heard all that.”
“I guess everyone between here and Aspen heard it,” she murmured. “Why didn’t you tell him you were sorry?”
“I—” I began. Truth was, I’d opened my mouth to apologize, since that was the logical thing to do after such a stupid mistake. But I’d still been so angry over something he hadn’t really done, I couldn’t get the words out.
So angry that I would have belittled what he loved or challenged him to a stupid contest if I’d had the chance.
“Nick Krieger,” the crowd sighed, collectively recognizing Nick as he hopped onto the slope and sped toward the deck.
He dropped into the pipe and picked up incredible momentum down the side and across the flat, almost as if the pipe weren’t filled with powder. The opposite wall launched him so high, I definitely would have lost my balance and rolled down the windows if I were him. Nick just grabbed his board in a method air, like it was nothing. He hung in the sky for an impossible second, then slid down the side.
“Oooh,” said the crowd, followed a moment later by an “oooh” from the ski lodge.
He hit the same height in his next trick, a 360. He couldn’t do my tricks, but he went much higher, and he was so heavy and powerful that the pipe seemed to grind and bend underneath him. I could feel it in my teeth.
“Oooh,” said the crowd.
He crossed the flat again and launched his third trick, a 540. I could tell the split-second after he hit his apex that what he’d intended to do didn’t match his rotation.
“That’s not going to end well,” Liz whispered as Nick headed for the snow without completing the last revolution. I’d seen a lot of crashes, courtesy of Josh and his peeps. I pictured this one in my head before it happened.
I couldn’t watch. The snow in the air had thickened, but even so, I could see his dark silhouette headed downward. I closed my eyes.
“Biff!” yelled the crowd in unison.
I opened my eyes and gasped. “He’s not moving.”
Liz grabbed my padded arm.
I waited for Gavin and Davis to move from their places at the top of the course. A gray snow cloud of testosterone always hung over the half-pipe course, making boys try tricks they couldn’t land and pretend not to be hurt when they were. Nick would be embarrassed if his friends went down to check on him. He would be horrified if I did. But somebody had to go. Nick got hit in football games all autumn long, and he was used to it. If he wasn’t getting up, he was really hurt.