We return to the lodge, and Senior explains how the holiday will work: he’s gotten ski passes for three days, so we won’t ski today since it’s late. Instead, he suggests wandering around the resort to let me explore. Jasper isn’t very enthusiastic, but he pulls on a beanie and scarf.
Outside, the weather isn’t bad since my clothes are warm and we’re doing a lot of walking. Most of the buildings are old-fashioned, but there are a couple of shiny modern ones. In the distance are several grey ski lifts, and I see tiny people sitting on the chairs. We arrive at a metal map of the mountain, and Senior explains that the colourful lines are skiing routes.
Jasper finds a meadow filled with snowmen. “I did this all the time as a kid,” he says, and starts scooping up snow to make another one.
Senior laughs and helps and after watching them for a bit, I pick up some sticks. “For arms,” I say, as I stab one into each side. I step back to study the snowman. “It looks a bit deformed.”
Jasper ignores me, sticking in stones to be the eyes. I try to smooth out the body a bit, but the sound of a camera clicking makes both of us turn around. Senior still has his phone in his hand, a little smile on his lips. “Got to take a lot of photos this trip. Stand next to it.”
I look at Jasper, who looks as if he’s about to argue, but he does as Senior says and stands on one side of the snowman. I stand on the other side.
“Put your arms around each other,” Senior says.
Neither of us moves, and Senior fixes us with an exasperated stare. “I can’t fit you both in the frame if you’re going to stand like that.”
“Fine,” Jasper mutters, placing a light hand on my back with a grimace. I’m so sick of that look. It’s not as if I’m contagious, Jesus fucking Christ.
“Say cheese!” Senior commands, holding his phone up and squinting.
“You embarrassed?” I murmur. “I guess someone like you wouldn’t be used to touching people.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” he hisses. “I just don’t want to touchyou.”
The camera clicks, and Senior looks at the photo while Jasper and I pull away. “Oh dear,” Senior says. “Can you boys at least pretend to be happy?”
Senior forces us to take five more photos until he gets one where we’re not scowling. Afterwards, Jasper looks at his hand like he wants to soak it in disinfectant.
*
After dinner in the lodge’s dining room, Senior suggests playing cards together. Jasper and I agree, neither of us willing to disappoint Senior. We sit around the coffee table, Senior on the couch and Jasper and I on the carpet.
Senior decides we’ll play Snap, and the first game goes well enough, with Senior winning.
In the second game, Iaccidentallyslam Jasper’s hand a bit too hard when trying to go for the pile.
“Ow,” he whines, inspecting his fingers.
“Don’t pretend that hurt,” I say.
He shoots me a look as he takes the pile of cards. “You don’t need to be so aggressive. You should learn to manage your temper.”
“It’s not about my temper, you’re justweak,” I reply.
“Now, now boys,” Senior interrupts. “It’s just a game.”
We play a couple rounds and the next time I hit the pile first. A second later, the side of Jasper’s hand slams against my knuckles.
“Ow,” I hiss.
“Don’t pretend that hurt,” he mimics.
“You did that on purpose!”
“I didn’t,” he says, blinking innocently. The disparity between his appearance and personality should be a crime. He looks angelic, with long lashes, bright green eyes and fine features, but in reality, he’s an asshole.
I open my mouth to retort when Senior interrupts.
“Boys, don’t argue again. Come on, let’s keep playing.”
