I could be wrong, but I had a feeling Darya would be game.
Seven
I was lost in chemistry, not to mention honors pre-calculus. English and Spanish weren’t as bad; I took enough Spanish in high school to get through it. But seriously, how many honors and AP classes could one person take? Veena’s schedule was full of them.
I had to keep up appearances for the teachers and staff long enough to keep Veena safe. And I wasn’t above cheating.
“Do you seriously need to know all this stuff?” I grumbled as we left her last class, heading for our room. “Won’t you ride through the Olympic rings next month and live off all those sponsors you have?”
“No, I’m going to college. I’ll keep training for the next Olympics, as long as I don’t get hurt. And when I get too old to ride, I’ll need a job.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe something in foreign policy or economics. I’d like to work for an NGO one day.”
“What’s that?”
“A non-governmental organization. A lot of them work in developing countries to help people. Non-profits and aid organizations, that kind of thing. If I can use whatever platform I have from snowboarding to help bring attention to problems like poverty and human rights, even better.”
If I was feeling stupider by the minute, it was only because Veena kept getting more impressive. And I hadn’t even seen her snowboard yet.
She changed into her snow gear, and I threw on a pair of thermal leggings under my jeans, a tip from Xene for cold weather assignments. I guess bodyguards usually stood around outside—a lot. At least I’d eaten lunch. And I’d been pounding water and nibbling on protein bars I’d bought at the café. No more altitude sickness for me.
We passed Muth in the lobby. I nodded at the head of school, determined to be professional. I might as well have been covered in green snot from the look he gave me.
“Ass,” Veena said as the sliding door shut behind us.
“Well, I was kind of a bitch to him when we met.”
“You were? What’d you say?”
I waved it away.
She elbowed me. “C’mon, we’re legally required to talk smack about Muth.”
“Later,” I said. “Where are you going? I need to tell Dad.” That was Veena’s new name for Brown. I doubted he’d be happy about it if he found out, but it made us both snicker.
“The clubhouse and then the pipe.”
I’d been told that almost all of the students at VMA were members of the Vail Ski and Snowboard Team. The clubhouse, up the path from the school, was their home base at the mountain. I’d passed it last night on my trudge up the icy hill to find Veena. I voice texted where we were going to Brown.
The back door of the clubhouse led to a line of lockers and benches where a few chattering teens and tweens pulled on ski gear outside of the restrooms and locker rooms. No one paid any attention to us as we stopped at a faded blue locker with VV written in sparkly nail polish on the surface.
Veena sat to tighten her snowboard boots. Her eyes gleamed as she took a hot pink snowboard out of her locker. The brand, Burton, her snowboard sponsor—not to be confused with her hair care or sunscreen sponsors—was on the bottom, surrounded by a colorful design. I caught her whispering to it.
I grinned. “You talk to your board?”
“Yeah. All of them.” She looked embarrassed. “This one is my favorite, though.”
“Does it have a name?” I was joking, but her sheepish expression stopped me from laughing.
“Sona. It’s a Hindi word.”
“What does it mean?”
“Nothing.” It was Veena’s turn to wave me off.
She tucked Sona under her arm and stomped off in her giant boots, helmet swinging from her arm. She was a few inches shorter than me, and she looked even tinier in that getup. All those puffy rainbow layers, and yet it would be all too easy for someone to hurt her.
I caught up to her at a staircase around the corner. I was genuinely curious. What does a snowboarding princess name her snowboard? “I won’t tell anyone.”
She bit her lip. “Promise?”
I held up my three middle fingers and touched the pinky and thumb together.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You weren’t a Girl Scout, huh? It’s the promise sign.”
“Oh. No. But I like their Thin Mints.”
“Don’t change the subject.” I breathed hard. Even a set of stairs stole my breath at this altitude.
She sighed. “Sona means gold.”
Gold, like Olympic gold. I couldn’t laugh at that. I understood having goals and a passion for something that others don’t totally understand.
“Nice name,” I said.
The stairs opened to a high-ceilinged room with sets of tables and chairs, a café area with refrigerator cases of drinks, snacks, and packaged foods like sandwiches and salads, and a check-in type desk. A fire crackled in a fireplace. Through the walls of windows, I could see the chairlift.
“You haven’t met my coach Nate yet, have you?” Veena asked.
She beelined to a tall, tanned man in a blue ski suit with VSSC embroidered on the back. I recognized him from the pictures Brown sent. Talking to him, his hair mussed, and stubble glinting gold on his jaw, was Connor. They turned when they saw Veena and me coming.
“Nate, this is my friend Nic,” Veena said.
We shook hands, and Nate jerked his thumb at the hill. “You ready, VV?”
“Absolutely. Nic, you can watch from the deck of the pipe if you want. Wait, have you ever ridden a ski lift?”
I shook my head, embarrassed there was yet another thing that I didn’t know how to do.
Connor spoke up. “I can ride with you. I need to head back up anyway; my break’s over.”
“Great!” Veena’s smile was dazzling. “See you there.”
Nate and his pupil popped their helmets on their heads, pulled on their gloves, and took off,
