Vox’s hand flies up to cover my mouth.
“Donotfinish that fucking sentence.” He makes a retching sound, and I lose it entirely. When I finally compose myself, a solid three or four minutes later, his face is blank. “Are you done?”
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing again. It feels almost foreign, considering the gravity of last night, but it also feels nice.
“Good. Now, as I was saying. The boards are too stiff.”
“Like all companies, their boards come in varying degrees of flex. You know this,” I argue.
“I do,” Vox agrees, “but it’s not the amount of bend in the board from tip to tail, nor is it the torsional flex. It’s the board itself and the bindings. I mean, it doesn’t really matter how much the board is willing to bend if my bindings keep me cemented in place. The board can only give as much as the hardware allows it to. I don’t remember having this problem with Vertigo, and I want to see if I’m remembering it correctly. Patterson also got cheap and lazy, and all their boards have hybrid cambers, which is ridiculous. It’s not the ‘best of bothworlds’ like they think it is. It just slows me down on packed snow and makes me work twice as hard when I need speed.”
These are definitely the most words Vox has ever said in my presence.
Watching his enthusiasm as he talks about this is not only impressive, but sexy as all fucking hell. This is basically my love language right here…a snowboarder’s equivalent of dirty talk.
“You want to know why I don’t have more control when I ride?” he continues. “It’s because I need a positive camber. I have to control the tip and tail from the middle of the fucking board, and I can’t do that when I have a rocker in the center. Not for the shit I do.”
He’s not wrong.
“Plus,” he continues, “there are companies with research and development teams the size of Patterson’s entire company directory. I respect Grey a literal fuckton, but he’s not listening to me. Burton, for example, has totally reinvented the hardware set for bindings, using mounting screws thatslideso you can adjust your stance even after you’re clipped in. Like, why am I still riding a board with stationary screws?”
I could listen to him go off like this all day.
“I hadn’t realized you were so invested in product development, but you know a helluva lot more than I did at your age,” I tell him. “My board is old and outdated as fuck, but you’re welcome to try it if you think it holds the answers for you.”
As soon as I offer up my board, a nauseating feeling settles in my stomach.
The last time that board was used, it cost someone their ability to walk. What if it now has bad karma attached to it, and it spreads to Vox?
“On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t?—”
“Nope, no take-backs. You said I could,” Vox says excitedly. “Oh, man. This is going to be so fucking awesome. I watchedyou win every event possible on that board. Never in a million years did I think I’d ever get to rip down a mountain on it.”
“When exactly are you wanting to do this?” I ask.
“Now.” It’s not a question. “I asked Grey to shut down two bunny trails to the public until noon.”
“And he didn’t question you?”
I breathe a small sigh of relief thatthiswas the reason he wanted to come to the easier terrain. He doesn’t want Grey to see him riding my board.
Vox looks confused. “Why would he question me? I told him the truth.”
“But he doesn’t know about you wanting my board,” I point out.
“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t mention that part.”
I nod. “Do some laps or something. I’ll be right back,” I tell him.
“I can just come with you,” Vox says, stepping up to my side.
Choosing to give him that inch since he’s letting me off the hook about last night, I stop in my tracks and face him.
“I know you aren’t stupid, and I know you have to be wondering what the hell last night was all about. Suffice it to say, I’m going to need a minute with my board before I hand it over.”
Without cracking a joke or even a smile, Vox nods, understanding the relationship between a boarder and their snowboard. For years, it was truly an extension of myself. We wontogether. I think a lot of professional athletes feel that way about their gear. We personify it…perhaps so we don’t feel so lonely.
Hell, I’ve spent far more hours with my board than I have with any single human.
