It does mean I get to hang out with my boys, even if these idiots are already about to break their necks on the snowy mountain before us.
Glavin, Matt, me and a couple of other guys we are friends with decided to go snowboarding at the local mountain range. All of the local kids take the one-hour drive into the mountains pretty regularly, and my family has had season lift passes since I was about ten.
“We really shouldn’t do this.” I stare down the almost vertical drop before us.
Matt’s eyes gleam as he sizes up the run we’re about to all but kill ourselves on. “If you aren’t busy living, you’re busy dying.”
“Isn’t it get rich or die tryin’?” Glav asks from the other side of me.
“That’s a 50 Cent album, dumbass,” Matt grumbles. “No, this is a saying, and one we’re about to fulfill.”
“It’s also a Fall Out Boy song,” I point out, keeping on the theme of Glav’s musical clichés.
“I hate both of you.” Matt sighs. “My point is, this is our last year in Chester. We won’t get to do this until next winter break, and who knows where we’ll be. Will one of us stay behind at our college for an internship? Will one of us be pussy whipped and spending the holidays with our hot sorority queen girlfriend?”
Glav interrupts him. “I sure wouldn’t mind being pussy whipped if that was my predicament.”
I chuckle as Matt shoots him a glare. “My point is, let’s do all of the crazy shit you’re supposed to do senior year. Like run this black diamond, let’s party until the cops come, let’s hook up with as many girls as possible and blow off school because that’s what we’re supposed to do. So far, I think we’ve done a great job, but we can try harder.”
“First and second marking period blew.” Glav pouts.
Matt smacks him on his puffy-jacketed shoulder. “What the hell are you talking about? Just because you lost sectionals and didn’t win a championship does not mean this year blew! Look at what we’re about to do.”
“Of which I am not in favor of, let me just voice that again.” I raise a gloved hand.
We’re all pretty good on skis and snowboards, but this is for semi-professionals. It’s a very difficult run, through a ton of trees and hairpin turns, and I might be having heart palpitations whenever I think about boarding down it.
Our soccer season ended after we lost the sectional championships, and a lot of the guys were bummed about not making it to states. I was too, but winning a championship was never really my end all, be all. Glavin was devastated at the time, but I think it’s giving him some fire under his ass to get in even better shape for his university program. He’s going to be like a bat out of hell when it comes to his first collegiate season. Which is good, it gives him something to work for.
“Whatever,” Glav grumbles. “Let’s fucking do this.”
I send a prayer up to whatever God protects fuckhead teenage boys and then strap my goggles on.
The initial drop, our snowboards gliding over the fresh powder as if we were bowling balls on a runway, is effortless. It feels like we’re shooting down the side of a mountain at warp speeds, but at the same time, it’s fucking exhilarating. It may be a dumbass thing to do, but it’s just dangerous enough to get the adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
We’re coming around the last bend when Matt wipes out. I see it as if it’s slow-motion, the way his board hits a divot in the snow and his body jerks forward. I have to slow my own speed, planting my feet sideways and skidding to a halt, snow shooting up everywhere around me. The force from Glavin’s stop is like a tsunami, spraying us both.
I quickly unhook from my board, aware that we’re sitting in the middle of the run and could be trampled at any moment by another boarder. But Matt is slowly getting up from where he planted face down, and I’m afraid he’s seriously injured.
He’s shaking his head, snow flinging off in all directions, and I see the way his shoulders vibrate. Shit, he’s so hurt that he’s not even bothering to cover his tears from his bros.
“Dude, are you okay? Did you break anything?” Glavin rushes over to him.
When I get over to them, bending to see if there is blood on the ice-white snow, my gaze connects with Matt’s face.
To see him … laughing.
“Oh God, that was fucking incredible!” He snorts, then lets out a huge fit of laughter.
I smack him in the head, only slightly regretful that he might have a concussion already, and let out the breath I’ve been holding.
“Jesus, I thought you were fucking crying. I thought you for sure broke your leg or punctured a rib. You’re an idiot.”
“That was epic, though.” Glav shrugs and offers his fist out to Matt, so he can bump it.
Matt returns the gesture. “You bet your ass it was. And look, we didn’t even die, Mr. Mom. Now let’s go dry off, I’m hungry.”
Thirty minutes later, we’ve ditched our snowboards and yeti-sized winter gear in favor of the lodge. The fireplace crackles behind us as we munch on the mountain of cookies we bought to go with our hot cocoa. It may be girly, and none of us will admit this out loud, but it’s kind of our favorite part of ski season.
“Did you guys submit all of your applications?” Glav asks.
Matt and I both roll our eyes and death glare him simultaneously. We’re so tired of talking about this shit, it’s ridiculous.
“I told you already, I pick my hat in a week.” Matt is going to make his decision when we get back from winter break.
He’s going to sit at a table and pick the hat of the school with the
