“Got it,” Paul replies. “Knox, you handle Gideon, I’ll deal with Trevor.”
“Thanks.” I think for a moment. “Did you pull off the jump I showed you all? Before undoing your bindings, I mean?”
When Gideon nods, it all becomes clear: Trevor can’t take it when others are better than he is. He’s got a good heart, but as soon as he gets the feeling that he’s not as good as someone else, he turns aggressive. By punching down, he feels superior and, as a result, better. A vicious circle.
I pat Gideon on the shoulder. “Right, let’s go. We’ll straighten this out.”
Gideon’s smile widens. “Like real men?”
“Like real men,” I confirm, open the door, and step onto the slope. “Which means talking reasonably with one another.”
His expression suggests that he had been thinking of something else. Which makes sense, it’s all he knows. The thought stings.
Sarah is already back near the half-pipe, keeping an eye on the other boys. I nod in her direction, and she waves me off, silently letting me know she’s got things under control.
The boys are hanging around the half-pipe, which I reserved for them for two hours. Two of them are practicing the jump I’d showed them before I went into the ski hut. Three of the others are having a snowball fight, and Trevor is nowhere to be seen.
I sigh. “Stay with the others, Gideon. I’ll go find him.”
“Trevor!” I call, throwing a glance at Sarah, who’s talking to two of the other boys. She gives me a quick nod, as if to say,I’ll hold the fort, go find him.It’s not the first time that Trevor has taken off. In fact, it’s his usual. Nevertheless, it burns me up every single time. The kid’s just turned thirteen but manages to piss me off more than my biggest competitor, Jason Hawk.
I stomp past the half-pipe and look around. The slope is full of tourists in colorful outfits rushing past on skis or snowboards. From all directions come excited and happy shouts. With Trevor, every time it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.
“Knox,” I suddenly hear a voice behind me. Turning around I see the new girl who doesn’t want to tell me her name.
She still hasn’t put on any ski pants. Like the last time I saw her on the slope, the snow has wet her jeans all the way up above her ankles. Her eyes generate a warm feeling in me that chases off any thoughts of Trevor. For a few seconds at least. She smiles at me, and I have to think of the flowery scent she gave off last night at the movies, how I drank it in the whole time, afraid it might disappear at any moment. The effect she has on me puts me in panic mode.
Pull yourself together, Knox.She’s a figure skater and therefore off-limits.
“Hey,” I say crisply, turn, and continue my search for the little five-foot-two menace with dark hair.
I hear her take a few steps through the snow toward me. “What are you doing here?” she asks. “Aren’t you training?”
“I’ve got Thursday afternoons free.”
Damn, where is the little shit?
“Oh, I see.” Her profile creeps into my field of vision. She scratches her cheek. Red stripes on white skin. “We got off early cause our trainers have some kind of meeting or other. I’m meeting Gwen, Levi, and Aaron in the ski hut.” She pauses. “Come with me.”
I almost laugh out loud. Aside from the fact that Gwen, Levi, and Aaron would definitely not want to share a table with me andengage in small talk, the idea that I would spend my time with a group of iSkate kids is just absurd. The movie last night alone was a mistake. I shouldn’t have followed her after seeing her with William. That much went against my principles.
“I’ve got things to do,” I answer gruffly.
“Oh. Okay.” I had expected her to be a bit disappointed. But the tone in her voice sounds anything but. She even seems a little relieved. “Are you looking for someone?”
“Yeah. A kid who at this moment is probably setting someone’s pants on fire or stealing a bottle of booze from the ski hut.”
She laughs. “That’s a joke, right?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Umm. Okay. Should I maybe…”
“Trevor!” I leave the girl standing and take off after the boy who with his Rumpelstiltskin-like laugh is running away from me. Hard to believe. Does the little jerk think he’s going to be quicker than a six-one-and-a-half snowboarder?
I catch hold of the little spawn of Satan by the collar of his jacket. At first, he tries to escape but when he realizes he doesn’t stand a chance, he settles down. He turns to face me while hiding a hand behind his back. A second later I see a cigarette hit the ground, which he tries to bury beneath the snow with his boot.
I grind my teeth and let out an annoyed growl. “You really think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”
