back down again.
It became very clear while talking about this trip that Harrison was an excel ent skier. He mentioned winters in Vail and Beaver Creek, and spring skiing in Aspen. He knew the names of his favorite runs, and would say things like “The speed you can get on Pepe’s Face is crazy.” Isabel a just nodded.
“You can go ski with your friends if you want,” Isabel a offered. She was relieved when he declined.
“The whole point is for us to hang out,” he said, and pul ed her hat down over her eyes like he was one of her older brothers.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m just not sure that I’l be able to keep up with you. It’s been a while since I skied.”
“No problem,” he said. “We’l start on some blues until you get the hang of it.”
By the second run, Isabel a was pretty sure that she’d never get the hang of it. Harrison skied ahead of her, swooshing in the snow like a professional. Isabel a made a snowplow and took wide turns down the mountain. Every time she felt like she was going too fast and about to lose control, she let her knees buckle and fel to the ground.
“Just trust yourself a little more,” Harrison advised her. “The fun part is when you start going real y fast.”
“Fun until you crash,” she said.
How could she not have remembered how terrifying it was to ski? Even the chairlift scared her as it chugged high off the ground with nothing to keep them from fal ing out.
“Could you not swing your legs so much?” Isabel a asked Harrison. She tried not to sound so panicked.
“Such a little worrywart,” he laughed.
The day seemed impossibly long. The snow was icy and Isabel a’s gloves were wet from fal ing. She sat inside the lodge to warm up while Harrison went on a couple runs by himself. When Harrison came back in to get her, she tried not to look sad and fol owed him back out to the slopes.
Isabel a kept waiting for it to come back to her, but her legs kept buckling and shaking. And when Harrison said, “One more run and then we should go in,” she was so happy that she almost cried.
They were the last ones back to the house and there was no more hot water. Isabel a shivered in the lukewarm spray and told herself the weekend was almost over. Everyone was tired from skiing, and wore sweatpants and pajamas. Isabel a came downstairs in jeans and a sweater and felt like an idiot.
They played old col ege drinking games, and Jocelyn claimed Isabel a for her flip-cup team. Isabel a was relieved. Skiing was not her thing, but flip cup she was good at. She didn’t even mind that Jocelyn hugged her every time they won. She figured that Jocelyn was trying to make it up to Isabel a for sleeping with Harrison. It was sort of nice, in a weird, messed-up way.
Isabel a got drunk and happy. These people weren’t al that bad. She dragged Harrison to the middle of the room and danced with him. She was fun! Harrison’s friends would know that now. She made everyone do tequila shots and tried to suggest body shots, but Harrison shut that idea down.
“Time for bed, little lady,” he said, and picked her up over his shoulder. He smacked her behind, and the last thing she remembered was Harrison dropping her on the couch because they were laughing too hard.
The next morning, Isabel a woke up with a headache and waited for Harrison to climb down the bunk bed ladder, but he kept sleeping. The other couple in the room got up and got dressed, and Isabel a faced the wal and pretended to sleep until they were gone. She lay in her bunk and listened to the sounds of everyone else in the house as they started their day. She heard pots being clanked around, smel ed coffee. She heard the television being switched on and cheers for some game.
“Harrison, are you awake?” she whispered to the top bunk.
Isabel a could hear half snores coming from above. This wasn’t like Harrison to sleep so late. She slid out of her bunk and peered up at him. He was sleeping on his side with his mouth wide open. He looked like a little boy.
“Harrison,” she said, and poked him on the shoulder. He made a gurgling sound and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but didn’t wake up.
What was she doing here? She had been wondering it al weekend, but now she just wanted to cry. She thought of al the places she could be, with people she knew. Instead she was in a house of strangers. Pieces of the night before came back to her and with each flash, Isabel a was more and more mortified. She couldn’t face these people. Harrison probably didn’t even like her anymore.
She climbed up the ladder and sat in the bunk at the edge of Harrison’s feet. She wil ed him to wake up for seven minutes. Then she lay next to
him so that she was closer to the wal . She put her head on his pil ow and stared at him. When he final y opened his eyes a few minutes later, he let out a startled scream.
“Isabel a, what the hel ?” He half sat up and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. When he had calmed himself, he lay back down and crossed his arm over his eyes.
“My head,” he said, “hurts like a motherfucker.”
Isabel a laughed. She’d never heard him talk like that. He uncovered his face and smiled at her. “Oh, you like that? You think that’s funny? You can’t be feeling too great yourself, Little Miss Tequila.”
“Don’t say that word,” Isabel a warned. The only thing worse than being in a house ful of strangers was throwing up in a house ful of strangers.
Harrison smiled and closed his eyes again. “I don’t think I can go skiing today,” he said.
“Oh, thank God,” Isabel a said. She was so sore from yesterday that it hurt to talk. “Maybe we can go get lunch in town?”
