“Hey, that made a big difference,” I chirp, shocked that something so small has helped me.
“Gee, it’s almost like I’ve taught this for my whole life.” He belly laughs before putting his hands on his hips.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to insinuate you didn’t know what you’re doing!”
Gerald would get pissed at me for things like this.
“I’m just joshing ya.” He slaps my shoulder like I’m his frat bro, and I’ll admit it takes me off guard. “Just wait until we get to the most important bit about skiing, I’ll sound like a genius.” The snowman waggles his brows.
“And that is?”
“Pizza and french fry.”
I blink. “What in the world does fast food, albeit delicious sounding, have to do with this sport?”
He nudges the tips of my skis in, forming a giant wedge shape.
“Pizza. If you’re trying to control your speed, or even stop, pizza your skis together. And for the opposite effect, we go french fry.” Andri nudges the strips of fiberglass back to be parallel to each other.
“Oh,” I laugh, “not delicious but easy to remember!”
“It makes teaching the toddlers pretty easy,” he chuckles.
“Oh god, I’m as teachable as a toddler.” I scrub my hand over my face in embarrassment.
“I mean, there’s some pretty gnarly toddlers on the hill right now. With enough practice, you might be able to shred like them,” he teases. “Everyone starts somewhere, Daphne, there’s never any shame in trying something new.”
Something new indeed.
I cycle through my greasy-sounding foot positions a few times before french frying my way forward. When I wobble, he offers me his arm, like a knight in shining armor. I gently place my hand onto his warm fur and curse myself for how good I think he feels.
“Not bad!” Andri says as he walks alongside me.
I feel good. It’s been a minute since I learned anything new, and he’s right. There’s no shame in being bad at first. The progress is what matters! Digging my poles into the snow, I get too ballsy and pick up speed right as the hill begins to slope down.
I panic, throw my poles out to the sides, and close my eyes right before I crash into the orange plastic barrier that lines the bunny hill trail. All while a giant, and objectively hot yeti, yells “Pizza!” behind me.
Chapter eight
Daphne
Mymusclesareburning.Somehow strapping on two long slippery boards has me engaging parts of my core long unused. I wince, only a little, as I bend to pull the garnet slipdress up over my hips. Once each of the spaghetti straps is in its rightful place, I grab the lipstick, in the color black honey, and swipe it over my lips. With a few quick swipes of my brush as an attempt to coerce down the flyaways from wearing my tuque, I appraise myself in the mirror.
Normally I’d fret over some lacking part of myself, but today I feel pretty. I’d like to think that it's something as simple as the fact that my cheeks are still red from the cold, or that I think I actually made some progress at my lesson today. But I know what it is. It's the compliments that were mercilessly laid on me all day while a kind and incredibly patient Andri took his time teaching me.
And, he called mebeautiful.
I’ve been called cute before, but never that. And the way he said it—so earnest and without pretense. He said it like it’s something that I obviously should have known.
I catch myself in the mirror twiddling the giant piece of carbon on my ring finger as I get that warm and seriously fuzzy feeling I do when I think about him.
That’s when I hear a foot tapping behind me.
“Really, Daphne, if you don’t hurry up, we’re going to miss our reservation at the only worthwhile restaurant close to this godforsaken town.” Gerald’s voice snaps me back to my reality.
“You don’t find Hallow’s Cove even a little charming?” I pry, all while waiting for him to compliment my getup.
“No, I don’t. The lack of cell service, decent culture, and dated accommodations isn’t charming. Its main appeal is that it’s remote, and we can mold you into a decent skier before Vail.” He grumbles and taps his index finger to the face of his gold wristwatch. “Tempus fugit, ticktock.”
