“What are you going to call it?” I whisper, glancing around and not seeing anyone else.
He sharpens his pencil. “I’ve tried not to think about it,” he replies. “If I plan too far ahead, it’ll jinx it.”
“Don’t you need a mountain first?”
It’s a ski resort. He’ll need a lot of land.
He nods. “I’ll need investors for that.”
“We have mountains here,” I tell him, hopeful.
He tosses a smirk up at me. “No one flies here for skiing.”
But they could. We have a small ski place about forty minutes away. My parents like it. It has an inn and restaurant and stuff, but I don’t think it brings in people other than locals. Maybe if we were closer to the city, we’d get some tourists.
Unfortunately, I’m not very good at skiing. The other kids are, though. Everyone else loves speed.
I float my eyes around the papers, trying to make out how it would look in real life. There are buildings, ski lifts, chalets...
“Why do they call it the bunny hill?” I ask, remembering that slope being the only one I was good at last winter. And the winter before.
He leans over his blueprints. “Sounds like a question for your journal.”
My journal. Juliet gave me one when I was little and told me to put all of my questions in there. Then, we could work on researching the answers.
I never did, though. I mean, I use the journal, but by the time my family and I sit down to look something up, I don’t care anymore. I just have other questions by then.
“Have you ever tried snowshoeing?” I inquire next.
I don’t like skiing, but maybe if there are other winter activities, I can go to his resort too.
Lucas shakes his head. “That just sounds like work to me.”
I twist my mouth to the side. Does everything have to be fast to be fun?
I point to the chalets dotting the areas around the ski slopes. “Why are the roofs shaped like that?”
They’re like tall, upside-down Vs.
“I don’t know.”
I sneer. “Yes, you do.”
He looks up at me. “And so do you if you think about it for a minute.”
I dig in my eyebrows.
But sure enough, I look back at the houses, ponder if the shape of the roofs help keep in the heat before I remember that chalets are commonplace in mountains. Mountains get a lot of snow. And the steepness of the roofs lets the snow fall off easier.
“Did you figure it out?” he presses after a few moments.
“No.”
“Yes, you did.”
I try to keep my smile inside at the twinkle in his blue eyes, but it starts to peek out. “Maybe.”
I see his cheeks crinkle with a smile as he leans over the table again.
