I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “It’s alright.”
Christmas doesn’t do anything for me. I’m indifferent to it, really. Sure, the town is beautifully decorated and the humongous tree in front of the city hall is nice to look at, but whatever magic my sister is feeling isn’t something that courses through my bloodstream.
“Grumpy,” she mumbles. Like Alara, she’s one to take pictures of the sun setting in the sky, so when she stops for the three-hundredth time to take a photo of the same damn violet cloud, I throw my head back.
Jordan snickers behind us.
Okay, I can’t stand it anymore. “Where’s your sister?”
I had to ask. Maybe it’s the fact we spend our spare time together; maybe it’s the fact that I feel safe with her and like I can be myself without being judged; maybe it’s because, despite my walls, she pushes unapologetically against them to see me, the real me, and that is the reason why I can’t help but think about her. It’s like my brain is craving something sweet, like there’s a name perpetually ricocheting against every corner of my mind, and it’s hers – yet I can’t bring myself to address this sudden yearning.
Jordan glances up from his phone and shrugs. “Ask Gaby.”
I turn to my sister. “Gabriela?”
“¿Qué? No sé.No me mires así.” But from the cheeky smile pulling at her lips, she knows exactly where Alara is, and that only piques my curiosity.
The parking lot at the lodge is already full, and I’m surprised to see how many people are attending the competition. If it’s like in the past, the contestants are usually juniors or townspeople, but I also remember Joe telling me that the resort is fully booked; I’m assuming some guests are attending as well.
We get to the park, where bright lights illuminate the halfpipe, the bleachers almost full of spectators.
Instantly, it feels as if a needle pierces through my heart, causing that organ to deflate and break, the fragmented pieces falling into the pit of my stomach and leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ve refused to come to the snow park before now for the sole reason that I knew it’d hurt to be here. I want to ride those slopes and slide across those rails. I want to show off my skills. I want to feel the way my body hums to life when I land hard tricks.
But I guess sitting and watching will do for now.
Fuck, I hate this.
Gaby’s hand wraps around my forearm, a gentle pressure that tells me to keep it together. She gives me an ever so slightlypitying smile that makes my eye twitch, then saunters off to the bleachers with Jordan, who has finally let go of his phone.
Walking to the judges’ table, I spot Valentina and her friends sitting in the front row of the closest bleachers. I wink at my sister, and her friends giggle.
“Ew,” Valentina says, loud enough for me to hear.
After embracing Joe and shaking the hands of the other members of the jury, I sit next to my boss and pull my beanie further down over my ears. The air is crisp today, cold against my cheekbones, forcing me to tuck my chin in the collar of my coat to find a sliver of warmth.
“Excited?” Joe asks, handing me a folder that contains the contestants’ information, a pencil, and some sort of spreadsheet to keep track of the scores. “The place is packed. It might be the first time it’s been so full. I’m pretty sure everyone’s here to see you and listen to the advice you can give.”
I lean back in my chair, cross my arms over my chest, and start looking around for a gorgeous brunette with pretty eyes, wit for days, and cooking skills to die for. Spotting my mom and Donna huddled together under a thick blanket, I wave at them, only to have everyone around them wave back at me. “Nah. I’m not that important.”
“Look at you being humble,” Joe teases.
I chuckle, then motion toward Donna, who passes a travel mug to my mom. “What are they drinking?”
“Tea.”
“Is it spiked?”
Joe laughs, but nods. “You bet it is.”
I give my head a little shake, observing the way Mom whispers something to Donna that makes both of them erupt in a fit of giggles. Busybodies, these two, I’m telling you. “When is it starting?”
He checks his watch. “Ten minutes, more or less. There aretwenty-three contestants, age ranking going from six to thirty-one. It’s really not a serious competition, but you know how serious they are.” He smiles at me. “Youloved to take it to heart.”
A wave of nostalgia hits me square in the chest. The first time I participated in this tournament, I was around six or seven years old. I took that shit so seriously, and it has since earned me multiple podiums and even gold medals. The last time I competed was on my seventeenth birthday – a few days before Coach Wilson reached out to me.
I clear my throat to make the ball of emotion go away. “Yeah. Yeah, I loved it.”
I open the folder as Joe claps me on the back, and run my gaze over the contestants’ names. Maybe I might spot a familiar name. Right on cue, I do a double take at contestant number sixteen, my eyes widening as I read— “Alara?”
