Nickelodeon: The Ski Trip (Fifteen #5)


Chapter 1

"HAVE YOU PACKED yet?" Courtney asked her friend Arseman. The two girls sat in the school cafeteria eating their lunch.
"What's to pack? I'll throw a pair of jeans and two sweaters into my bag. Some underwear, socks, and I'm done. I can do that in two minutes, tonight," Arseman replied.
"That's all you're bringing?" cried Courtney, laying down her hamburger.
"Courtney, we're just going on a ski weekend. It's a school trip! How much stuff do you think we need?"
Sensible as ever, thought Courtney, looking at Arseman sitting there so calm and self-possessed. Courtney had never met anyone like her. Arseman, with her halo of short black curls, smooth almond complexion, and laughing dark eyes, seemed to know exactly who she was and never seemed to care what anyone else thought.
Just then, Courtney caught sight of Brooke sauntering toward their table holding her lunch tray. "I'll bet she's been packing for days," said Courtney. "She's probably got the latest designer ski outfit, too."
Arseman laughed. She could never take Brooke seriously. "Are you kidding? She probably has twelve ski outfits packed for this three-day trip. If I know Brooke, she'll spend so much time changing clothes she'll never get to ski."
Brooke stopped by their table. "Ready to hit the slopes, girls?" she asked with a smile.
As much as Courtney and Arseman disliked Brooke, it wasn't in their natures to be rude. But they were cautious. Brooke only stopped to chat for one of two reasons. Either she wanted to plant a rumor she hoped they'd pass along, or she was fishing for information.
Without waiting for their replies, Brooke continued, "I haven't skied since the family went to Switzerland last year. You would not believe how adorable the instructors were there. Even though I'm an expert skier, I pretended to be a beginner so that I could take private lessons with one totally hunky instructor named Hans. He and I got to be quite friendly."
"Maybe you'll be able to pick up another instructor on this trip," said Arseman drily.
Brooke's brown eyes narrowed. Haughtily, she tossed back her stylishly-cut short light-brown hair. "I would hardly call a romantic European interlude a pickup, Arseman. But I don't suppose you would understand about such things."
Arseman rolled her eyes. "I guess I don't have your international perspective, Brooke. I should know that a world-traveling sophisticate like you would never do anything so crass as to try to pick up a good-looking guy."
"Absolutely right," Brooke huffed.
Then, with a smile, she shifted gears. "Well, see you ladies bright and early tomorrow," she chirped. "I don't know how I'll make that six A.M. bus. I'm sure I'll be up all night packing."
"We're sure you will be, too," Arseman muttered as Brooke walked off.
"I suppose we should have invited her to sit down," Courtney said guiltily.
"Oh please," groaned Arseman. "Just talking to her for three minutes gave me indigestion."
"She is tough to take," Courtney agreed. "I don't know why so many people fall for her act."
"Hi, you guys," came a soft, almost whispery voice. Ashley slid into a chair beside Arseman and lightly plunked down her lunch tray. How different the two girls are, thought Courtney. Ashley with her big blue eyes, porcelain skin, and straight blond hair contrasted with Arseman's bold, dark beauty. Where Arseman was outspoken, Ashley was quiet and slow to speak. Yet each girl was strong—a leader—in her own way. And they were Courtney's closest friends in the world.
"Sorry I'm so late," said Ashley. "I ran into Matt on the lunch line. He wanted to talk."
Arseman and Courtney leaned eagerly toward Ashley. "So? What did you talk about?" Courtney asked.
"Oh, you know, the same old thing," Ashley said, coloring slightly at the temples. "He wants us to get back together."
"Something's different. You're blushing," Courtney observed.
Ashley clapped her hands to her cheeks as if to stop the blush from spreading. "I am not!" she said. "But you're right. The different part is that I said I would give it a try. We'll be on this ski trip together for three days and we'll make it like a test."
"How romantic!" Courtney sighed.
Arseman's eyes narrowed warily. "Is he still drinking?"
"He says no," Ashley replied. "I believe him, too. I think this time he's really trying."
"Well, good for him, if he is," said Arseman. "I hope he's telling you the truth."
"I think he is," Ashley said hopefully. "We only have one other problem. Matt is a great skier and I'm a total beginner."
"That's no problem. In fact, it works out perfectly," said Courtney, smiling. "You'll have your own private ski instructor. You can stumble into his arms and he can save you."
"Matt and I are beyond all that goofy stuff," said Ashley, smiling nonetheless. "Still, I'm hoping this works out."
"You've never really broken up with him—I mean not in your heart—have you?" asked Arseman.
"I've tried to," Ashley said thoughtfully. "With his drinking and all, it's been tough. But I haven't been able to walk away, so we've never broken it off completely. This in-between stuff is making me crazy."
"What about Chris?" Courtney asked. Chris played in a band with Arseman and another guy named Dylan. Dylan and Chris were both pretty rebellious. "That's completely over," Ashley answered. "I thought he was cool for a while, but he's trouble. He's got too much of a chip on his shoulder." She sighed and bit her bottom lip.
"Hey, what's the matter, Ashley?" asked Courtney.
"Oh, nothing," Ashley said.
"Ashley, I know something's wrong when you bite your lip like that," Courtney insisted. "What is it?"
"I was just thinking about Dylan and Chris. I wish they weren't coming on this trip," Ashley confessed. "You know how it is. I've been sort of involved with both of them at different tunes. I never got serious with either one of them, but Matt doesn't believe that. He's so touchy and jealous around them, especially Chris."
"You're right," agreed Courtney. "It could be trouble."
"Just steer clear of those guys," Arseman suggested. "They'll leave you alone."
"I hope so," said Ashley with a worried look.
Courtney looked across at Ashley and wondered about her friend. Sometimes it seemed to Courtney that Ashley actually liked all that drama and intrigue. She seemed to enjoy being at the center of things.
Would Ashley really steer clear of Chris and Dylan? Or would this ski trip end up causing nothing but trouble?


Chapter 2

AT FIVE O'CLOCK the next morning Ashley climbed out of her mother's station wagon. The ski-trip bus stood across the school parking lot, its motor running and its headlights on. Only a few other kids milled around outside the bus. Leave it to Mom to get me here early. Mrs. Punctuality herself, she thought as she pulled her overnight bag from the trunk.
Ashley stood by her mother's rolled-down window for a final good-bye. With one last "Don't do anything dangerous," her mother rolled up the window and pulled away.
"Don't do this. Don't do that," Ashley muttered as her mother drove off. Ashley loved her parents, but lately she found them a little annoying. Couldn't they understand that she wasn't perfect? No one was! There had been a time—not so long ago—when she tried very hard to be everything they wanted her to be. But she only wound up being unhappy.
Now Ashley breathed in the sharp, cold air and blew out a small, foggy cloud. She was determined to listen to her own feelings for a change. Picking up her bag, she headed for the bus.
"Hi," said Matt, coming up alongside her. The breeze ruffled his short brown hair as he handed his bag to the driver.
"Hi," she replied nervously. It was hard for her to believe she'd once felt so comfortable with Matt. But, back then, they'd been two of a kind. Ashley the student council member. Delicate, blond, and pretty. Matt the captain of the basketball team. Tall, dark, and handsome. It seemed like they were the perfect couple.
Now, due to his drinking, Matt was on probation from the same team he'd once led. And the scandal over Ashley cheating on a math test had taken some of the luster off her shining image as well. It seemed the relationship just hadn't been able to stand all that strain.
And yet they couldn't let go. Was it habit—or something more? That's what Ashley hoped they could figure out this weekend.
A petite, pretty girl with light brown hair came up alongside them. She smiled at them with still-drowsy eyes. "Hi, Erin," Ashley greeted Matt's younger sister. "You look like you're still half asleep."
"Half asleep?" Erin laughed. "I'm all asleep. By some miracle my feet are moving."
"Your mouth is moving, too," Matt teased. "That never stops."
"Big brothers," Erin sighed comically. "You can't live with them—and you can't get rid of them."
Just then, another girl, not much taller than Erin, came up from behind and bumped right into her. It was her best friend, Lea. "Oh, excuse me," Lea giggled. "I was sleepwalking." Chatting excitedly, the two girls climbed aboard the bus.
"You can see why they're friends," Ashley said with a smile. "They're two of a kind."
"They sure are. One's goofy and the other is goofier, but I don't know which one is which," he agreed. Matt clapped his gloved hands together. "Let's get on the bus. It's freezing!"
"Sure," Ashley replied, following him up the steps. Inside there were only a few kids they didn't know very well. "How come you got here so early?" Ashley asked Matt.
He smiled. "Because I know your mother. I'm surprised she didn't get you here last night."
"Me, too." Ashley giggled. Maybe everything will be all right after all, she thought as she settled into the comfortable seat. She rested her hand on the movable arm rest between them, and Matt curled his fingers comfortably between hers.
"Hi, you two," chirped Courtney, coming down the aisle. "Mind if Jake and I sit in front of you? Or do you want some privacy?"
"Of course you can sit with us," Ashley said quickly. "Where's Jake?"
"He's outside talking to some guys about ski conditions," answered Courtney, pulling off her down jacket.
Suddenly Ashley's eyes widened. "Oh, my God!" she whispered. "Look at Billy." Billy was Courtney's younger brother. He stood gazing adoringly toward the front of the bus, where Brooke staggered under the weight of her carry-on bags.
"He's finally flipped," Courtney said.
Poor Billy, thought Ashley. He was forever lovesick over one girl or another. It's not that Billy isn't cute, she thought, watching him ogle Brooke. In a juvenile kind of way, that is. A girl in junior high, or even another freshman, might welcome his attentions. But Billy was always falling for an older girl.
Billy strode up to Brooke, who was busily arranging her things on the seat next to her. "I can't watch this," Ashley commented.
"I have no sympathy for him," said Courtney, kneeling on her seat and leaning over the back of it. "He does this to himself. But I know what you mean."
"That's how you learn," offered Matt.
"But Billy never learns," Courtney pointed out. "That's his problem."
The group watched as Billy hovered around Brooke, making small talk, anxiously shifting on the balls of his feet and clutching his duffel bag. Meanwhile the bus was beginning to fill with kids. Two boys came and took the seats in front of Courtney. Chris and Dylan boarded and sat together. Soon the bus was packed.
"Here comes Jake now," said Ashley as a slim boy with straight black hair and dark eyes appeared at the front of the bus. Courtney waved to him and he headed toward them. The girls and Matt laughed out loud when he did a comic double take as he passed Billy and Brooke.
As he approached his friends, Jake made a face of mock horror. "What on earth was that I just passed?"
"That was Billy hitting on Brooke," Matt filled him in.
"So I see. But why?" he asked, sitting down beside Courtney.
"Because he's demented," Courtney replied, checking her watch. "I wonder where Arseman is."
"Who cares?" said Matt.
Ashley and Courtney sighed. Matt thought Arseman was arrogant.
"You really ought to give Arseman a chance," Ashley said. "You probably just take things she says the wrong way. Lighten up a little."
"Yeah, right," muttered Matt.
"There she is!" cried Courtney as Arseman climbed onto the bus. She waved to them and then looked around for a seat. The only one left was at the very front of the bus. With a resigned shrug, Arseman plopped herself down into it.
"Everybody take your seat, please," said the driver. Billy was the only one still standing. Mr. Killer, one of the chaperones, told Brooke to put her things on the rack above her seat.
"Hey, what do you know," Billy said happily as he took the empty seat beside Brooke. "This must be fate."
"A fate worse than death," Brooke mumbled.
"What did you say?" asked Billy.
"I said . . . I can hardly catch my breath. It's just been rush, rush, rush all morning."
"I know what you mean," Billy said. "I was up half the night packing. I couldn't decide what to bring or what to wear."
Brooke disdainfully eyed his flannel shirt, blue down vest, and jeans. "It took you half the night to make that fashion selection?"
"Oh, no," Billy laughed. "I was talking about what equipment to bring and wear. I'm big time into hiking."
"In the middle of winter?" Brooke gasped. "What are you? Insane?"
"No, not at all," said Billy pleasantly. "Hiking in the winter is very exciting." He fished into the duffel at his feet and pulled out a large book of maps. "See," he said, opening it. "This shows you all the trails in the area. Isn't that great?"
"Super," Brooke replied in a dead voice. "Just too exciting for words."
Once everyone settled down, the bus pulled out of the lot. By the time they got to the highway, a dusky morning light filtered in through the windows. Ashley noticed that a lot of the kids had curled up and gone to sleep.
"What did you mean about me needing to lighten up?" Matt asked quietly.
"I only meant that you take things too seriously sometimes," Ashley replied cautiously. She knew Matt was sensitive and she didn't want to hurt his feelings.
"How else am I supposed to take things?" he asked.
"A little less seriously," she said in a whisper. "You take everything too much to heart. I think that's one of the reasons you drink."
"I don't drink anymore," Matt snapped.
"All right then, why you used to drink."
"Why do you have to keep bringing that up?" he asked angrily.
"Why shouldn't I, Matt? It's a real problem. Why can't we talk about it?"
"Because it's all you want to talk about. Can't you just forget about it?"
"No. Your drinking caused me a lot of pain. I don't want to go through that again."
"You don't want to go through it again? What about what I was going through? Is it always about you?"
"No, it's always about you! And what you want!"
Ashley heard the words tumble from her lips as if someone else was speaking. She had been only dimly aware that she felt this way about Matt and his drinking problem.
Matt got up out of his seat. "This isn't going to work, Ashley," he said in a low, angry voice.
"That's fine with me," she said, turning her face toward the window.
Matt stormed up the aisle, looking for another seat. Midway up, the unpleasant, embarrassing reality hit him. He could either go back to sit with Ashley, or he could take the one remaining seat—next to Arseman.


Chapter 3

THREE HOURS LATER, the bus turned off the highway onto a winding mountain road. Brooke gazed out the window at the snow-capped mountains. Beside her, Billy slept, his head slumped on his chest, snoring loudly.
Why me? thought Brooke, looking at Billy irritably. I don't know which is worse—when he's awake or asleep. At least now I don't have to listen to his inane chatter. Right at that moment, Billy shifted positions and let his head drop onto Brooke's shoulder. Oh, this is unbelievable, she thought, gently extricating her shoulder and sliding out of her seat. Supporting his head in her hand, she lifted the movable arm rest and settled him down on both seats. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him. God forbid, she thought. Then he'll start talking to me again. The poor boy is so boring he even put himself to sleep.
The bus was now abuzz with excitement. Kids were laughing, throwing wadded paper at one another, and visiting from seat to seat. "Hmmmm, what have we here?" Brooke murmured softly as she stood in the aisle and looked around. The moment she'd come on board the bus, she had noticed Matt sitting next to Ashley.
Now Chris was sitting there.
That boy never wastes a moment, she thought wryly, looking at Chris and Ashley. Ashley was laughing at something Chris was telling her. He probably dashed into that seat the minute Matt got up, she figured, correctly. But where was Matt?
Now I've seen everything, she laughed to herself when she caught sight of Matt sitting up front with Arseman.
Her eyes then shifted to Dylan, who sat alone reading a music magazine, his long legs stretched out into the aisle. Dylan wasn't the kind of boy Brooke would ever take seriously as a boyfriend. Still, there was something dangerous in his sleepy brown eyes that attracted her. Maybe I'll go sit with him, she decided. But first I'll buzz by and see how Matt and Arseman are doing. That should be worth a laugh.
As Brooke approached the front of the bus, she heard Arseman and Matt deep in a heated conversation.
"Women athletes don't get paid as much because they don't draw big crowds, Arseman! Why is that so hard for you to understand?" argued Matt.
"I understand what you're saying," Arseman countered. "But that's only because nobody takes women's sports seriously! If there was equal funding for all school sports, then women's sports would have a following by the time women athletes got to the professional level."
"I think you're wrong about that," Matt disagreed. "Most of the people who watch sports are guys, and guys wouldn't pay to watch women Play."
"But if women took themselves and other women seriously as athletes, then they'd watch women athletes, too," Arseman insisted fiercely. "And if we lived in a world where there was true equality, it wouldn't matter to anyone whether the athlete was male or female."
"Oh, Arseman," said Brooke, perching on the arm of Matt's chair. "Don't you think that's a bit naive? Everyone knows guys are just so much stronger and more athletic than women." Brooke cast Matt a winning smile. "That's why they're guys and we're women."
Matt hardly gave Brooke a glance. "If you don't mind, Brooke," he said, "this is a private conversation."
Brooke jumped up, stung by the rebuff. "Excuse me," she bristled, stomping away. She decided to visit Dylan.
"Tsk, tsk," Brooke crooned, sliding into the empty seat beside him. "All alone?"
Dylan glanced up from his magazine as if he was coming back from another world. "Oh, hi, Brooke," he said.
"Hi, yourself. What's so fascinating in there?"
"It's just an article about how to make chord changes even smoother with a new technique this guy developed. I don't really see how it can work though because—"
"Don't let me stop you from reading," she cut him off. There was nothing Brooke found more boring than discussing technical stuff with a musician. "You finish your article; I'll just shut my eyes."
"Don't get too comfortable," Dylan said. "It looks like we're about to pull into the ski resort."
Brooke sat up on her knees to look out the window. They were coming into a wide parking lot. At the very back of the lot was a large, wooden building with fancy woodwork around the edges—The Snowridge Lodge. To its left, ski lifts carried people up the mountain. And all around she saw skiers in brightly-colored outfits.
Gorgeous Guy City! thought Brooke, immediately zeroing in on three handsome young skiers. One guy, in particular, caught her eye. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and blond. His deep tan and ice-blue ski outfit made his blue eyes stand out even from a distance. Brooke quickly estimated that he was about twenty-one or two.
Suddenly Dylan and Matt seemed only mildly attractive. And Billy, of course, was a joke. Even the ski instructor she'd met in Switzerland didn't compare to this sun-kissed god with his high cheekbones and perfect features.
In minutes, the bus pulled up to the front of the lodge and then backed into a spot. Brooke already had her suitcases down from the rack. "Excuse me," she said to the still-sleeping Billy as she unceremoniously yanked her hot pink parka out from under him.
"What the . . . huh?" he sputtered awake.
"It's been great talking to you, but I've got to run," she told him. "The slopes await." With her parka tucked under her arm and her bags clunking into the seats as she passed, Brooke hurried to the front of the bus.
"In a little bit of a hurry, Brooke?" Arseman asked drolly.
"I just can't wait to hit those slopes!" Brooke answered excitedly.
The door opened and Brooke burst out of the bus. Squinting in the bright sun, she scanned the front of the lodge. Where did he go! Where did he go?
Holding her hand to her forehead, like a sun visor, Brooke turned slowly, looking . . . looking . . . and then, suddenly. . . .
"Oh, hello!" she cried. He was right there, directly in front of her. So close she could almost touch him—the most unbelievably gorgeous, dreamy, more-adorable-than-a-rock-star guy she'd ever laid eyes on.
And he'd come right up to speak with her. This was fate, for sure!
"Is this the Hillside High ski trip?" he asked her.
"Why, yes, it is," said Brooke smoothly in what she hoped was her sexiest voice. "I'm Brooke, one of the chaperones. I'm actually a student teacher at Hillside, but I volunteered to come along. I want to make sure these kids have a good time."
"I hope they will. My name is Kurt. I'm an instructor here at Snowridge. I've been assigned to your group. Do you know how many of your group will be needing rentals?"
"Is that a German accent I detect?" Brooke asked flirtatiously.
"Dutch," he told her. "You have a good ear. I thought I was starting to sound just like a real American."
"Oh, the average person wouldn't have noticed your accent at all," she assured him. "But I've traveled quite a bit."
"You've been to Holland?"
"Many times," she fibbed. In truth she'd never been there at all. "Those windmills are just too adorable. And the wooden shoes—love 'em."
"Anyway, about the rentals?" he reminded her.
"Uh . . . you'll have to ask Mr. Killer about that. He's in charge of rentals," she told him, hating to let him get away for even a moment. "Oh, Mr. Hiller," she waved to the teacher who was just stepping out of the bus. "Kurt here needs to speak with you."
"Thanks," Kurt said as Mr. Killer approached.
"No problem. If you need to know anything—anything at all—you just ask me."
"Brooke, would you please join the others over on the curb?" asked Mr. Killer.
"Of course, Stan," she replied, using Mr. Killer's first name. "We don't want to leave these kids alone for a moment." She turned to Kurt with an alluring smile. "Remember what I said. If there's anything I can do for you, don't hesitate to ask."
Kurt smiled. A deep dimple formed in his cheek and their eyes met. "Thank you, again, Brooke," he said. But, to Brooke, his eyes and tone of voice said something else. They said: I feel the connection, too.
Brooke joined the others on the curb while the driver unloaded their bags. "I know these are yours," he said to Brooke, pulling two large pink bags to the curb. "I hope you rented a separate room just for your things."
She shot him an unamused smile. What did he know? She was going to need every bit of this stuff—especially now that she'd met Kurt. Brooke spotted her skis leaning up against the bus. At the same time, she saw Kurt walking with Mr. Killer toward the curb. Leaving her suitcases behind, Brooke ran out to get her skis, and to intercept Kurt.
"These are yours?" Kurt asked, letting Mr. Killer walk on alone.
Brooke lifted her skis. "Yes, they're just old things really. I didn't want to bring my good ones."
Kurt frowned and ran his hands along the pink skis. "They can't be too old," he said. "They just started making this brand in pink last year."
"Well, I like to get new skis every year," Brooke said, hoping to impress him.
"Oh, yeah? What kinds do you have?" he asked.
"You know, I have so many, I can't keep track of them all."
"Brooke!" cried Mr. Killer. "Please stay with the group."
Brooke rolled her eyes. "That man can't do anything without me." She glanced at Mr. Killer, who stood with his arms folded waiting for her to join the others. "See you later," she told Kurt.
"Bye," he said, waving.
As soon as Brooke joined the others, the group began to move towards the lodge. Tugging at her bags and juggling her skis wasn't easy. "Isn't there a porter or anything around here?" she fumed.
It was then that she came up with a perfect plan. Kurt was still in sight, talking to another—only slightly less gorgeous—ski instructor not far from the bus. Falling to the back of the group, she waited until the other kids were all inside the lodge.
"Ooooh!" she cried sharply, falling lightly onto one of her pink suitcases and letting her skis clatter to the ground. "Oh! Oh! Oh, dear!"
Bending down, she rubbed her ankle. A quick peek from the corner of her eye told her that her plan was working. In seconds Kurt was by her side. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"My ankle," she said. "I seem to have twisted it. This is so embarrassing. I'm not even on the ski slope yet."
"It's this wood planking," said Kurt, picking up her skis. "Sometimes people catch their heels in the slats. Here, let me help you." Gently he helped her to her feet. "Let me look," he said.
Kneeling in front of her, he loosened her sneaker and slipped it off. "It's not swollen or anything," he observed. "You probably just turned it." He slipped the sneaker back on and laced it up.
"Thanks for looking," Brooke breathed.
Kurt scooped up her bags with no apparent effort and hoisted her skis up over his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "I'll help you to your room."
"Do you mind if I lean a little on your arm?" Brooke asked.
"No problem," he said, smiling down at her. "That's what I'm here for."
Brooke was in ecstasy as she pretended to hobble toward the elevator. This trip may have started out badly, but it was turning out to be too perfect for words.


Chapter 4

MATT THREW HIS duffel bag onto his bed. "This is nicer than I expected," he said, looking around the neatly furnished room. The style was rustic, but comfortable.
"Hey! Look at this," said Jake, pulling open the drapes. Through the large plate-glass window they had a dazzling view of Snowridge Mountain.
Matt looked over to Billy. "What the heck is all that?" he asked. Billy was holding his duffel bag upside down, dumping at least ten paperback books onto his bed. "Don't tell me you came on this trip to catch up on your reading!" Matt said, crossing over to look at the books. He scooped up three books. "Charting a Winter Trail," he read. "A Guide to Using Your Compass, One Hundred Great North American Hiking Trails."
"Just a few books on hiking," Billy said sheepishly. "I did some hiking in the Boy Scouts and I really liked it. My dad never has time to take me, so I figured this would be a good chance to do more."
"Like, what are you going to do?" asked Matt. "Go walking off into the mountains with just a compass?"
"Sure," said Billy, taking his compass from his pack. "But I got these maps from the lodge office, too. They tell you where there are marked trails, and all sorts of cool stuff."
Matt noticed something strange sticking out of Billy's duffel bag and pulled it out. "Snowshoes?!" he cried, holding up a large webbed shoe. "Where did you get these things? They look like they're a hundred years old!"
"I got them at a garage sale," said Billy. "They were a great deal."
"I'll bet," Jake laughed.
"You guys do what you want, and I'll do what I want. Okay?" Billy blustered defensively.
"Chill out," said Matt lightly. "We're just kidding around with you. Seriously, though, there is one real problem with all this hiking stuff."
"What's that?" Billy asked.
"Girls. There are none on lonely mountain trails," said Matt.
"Unless you want to date a chipmunk," added Jake.
"I've already got a girl," said Billy. "And she's not just any girl, either."
Jake and Matt exchanged glances.
"Ah, come on, Billy," Jake said. "You must know Brooke is total trouble."
Billy's face turned red. "How did you know it was Brooke?" he stammered.
"We saw you sitting with her on the bus," Matt answered. "And she is trouble, Billy."
"You guys just don't know her," Billy argued. "I think she's really sensitive underneath that tough shell."
"No way," said Matt. "Even if she does have a sensitive side, it's buried under a hundred layers of granite. Nobody can get through to her."
"I could," Billy said confidently.
"But, Billy," said Jake carefully, "has she given you any sign that she's at all interested?"
"She sat with me on the bus!" Billy reminded him.
"Wasn't she kind of forced to do that?" Jake pointed out.
"Maybe, but then we had a great conversation. We really connected. I'm pretty sure she's interested," said Billy.
Matt hopped up from the bed. "I feel gross from the bus ride. I'm going to take a shower." Pulling a fresh change of clothes from his bag, he headed for the bathroom.
In the small bathroom with its wooden cabinets and old-fashioned fixtures, he undressed and stepped into the shower. Truthfully, he didn't feel the need for a shower. What he needed was to be alone with his thoughts, and this was the only way he could think of to get some privacy. Not until the hot water was hitting his back did he let down his emotional guard.
How had things with Ashley gotten off to such a bad start? He'd pinned so many hopes on this weekend. This was his chance to get back together with Ashley and it had taken him all of twenty minutes to blow it.
It's my stupid temper! he chided himself. He'd always had a quick fuse. Ashley was probably right. Maybe he was too touchy. After all, it was more than just his drinking that had gotten him thrown off the basketball team. It was also the way he'd exploded at Coach Williams.
But no one else could make him as angry as Ashley could. Maybe because I don't love anyone else as much, he admitted to himself. If only they could talk like they used to.
"Hey, Matt," Jake shouted through the door. "We're starving. We're going downstairs to that welcoming brunch thing Mr. Killer told us about. Want us to wait for you?"
"No thanks. I'll meet you guys down there," he replied.
"Okay. See ya later," said Jake.
Matt heard the door slam and came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Jake's travel clock on the bureau told him it was almost ten o'clock. He realized he was hungry, too, and dressed quickly in jeans, a heavy sweater, and hightop sneakers.
The first thing he saw when he stepped out into the hallway was Courtney leaning up against the wall. "Hi, what's up?" he greeted her.
"Oh, hi, Matt," she said, her expression tense. "I'm just taking a time-out."
"From what?" he asked.
"From Ashley and Arseman," she told him. "Ashley, really. She's been ice-cold to Arseman since we got here."
"She has?" Matt questioned, a cautious happiness slowly rising in him. He hoped he knew the reason for Ashley's attitude. "It's not because of me, is it?"
"Of course it's because of you!" said Courtney.
"You mean she's jealous?"
"I guess so. She saw the way you and Arseman were hitting it off on the bus, and I guess she thinks Arseman moved in too fast."
"But what about the way she was with Chris?" Matt asked hopefully. This was great news. It meant there was still hope and that Ashley hadn't completely shifted her attentions over to Chris.
"I don't know," Courtney said with a disgusted shrug. "All I know is that I hope they knock it off. It's no fun being in the middle. They're both my friends."
"Why don't you get away from them and come down to the welcoming brunch?" Matt suggested.
Courtney looked down at her feet. She wasn't wearing shoes. "I have to go back inside, plus I said I'd wait and go down with them."
"Okay, see ya later," said Matt.
Bracing herself, Courtney went back into her room. In frosty silence, Arseman and Ashley unpacked.
"Almost ready?" Courtney asked cheerfully.
"In a minute," said Arseman. "Just let me do something with my hair."
"We know you want to look your best," said Ashley unpleasantly.
"Yes, Ashley, I do like to look my best," Arseman said, a touch aggressively. "Is that a problem for you?"
"I couldn't care less what you do, Arseman," Ashley shot back.
"I can't take any more of this!" cried Courtney.
"Any more of what?" asked Ashley coldly.
"Oh, Ashley!" Courtney cried, throwing up her arms. "You know very well what. I'm talking about the way you've been acting toward Arseman."
"I haven't been acting any way," Ashley insisted.
"Ha!" Arseman laughed disdainfully. "What did I do to you, Ashley?"
Ashley turned to face her. "You really want to know? Just because I had a fight with Matt doesn't give you the go-ahead to move in on him."
"It's not my fault the guy plopped down next to me. What was I supposed to do? Ignore him?" cried Arseman.
"Maybe," Ashley replied.
"That's ridiculous!" Arseman shouted.
"You could have talked to him, but you didn't have to flirt with him!" Ashley shouted back.
Arseman's jaw dropped. "Flirt with him! I told him he had a dumb jock mentality. How is that flirting?"
"It's the way you say things," Ashley replied.
"I'm not listening to any more of this stupidity!" said Arseman, grabbing her sweater from the bed and storming out of the room.
Ashley flopped down on her bed, tears filling her eyes. "Oh, this is just great. It's not even noon and I've had fights with two people already."
Courtney came and sat beside her. "I think you're wrong about Arseman," she said gently.
"Oh, Arseman doesn't fool me," said Ashley. "I know she was flirting with Matt. We all have our own ways of flirting with guys, and Arseman's way is to argue."
Courtney shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, Ashley, but I think you're dead wrong."
Ashley's head dropped into her hands. "Oh, Courtney, what if she takes him away before we have a chance to figure things out?" She jumped up and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Courtney flopped back on the bed. Her head suddenly throbbed at the temples. So far, this ski trip was not going well at all!


Chapter 5

"DO YOU TWO mind!" Brooke asked through clenched teeth as she leaned closer to the mirror. If she weren't in such a good mood about Kurt, she'd be tempted to smother Lea and Erin with the pillows they were throwing at each other.
"Sorry, Brooke," said Lea, breathless from the pillow fight. "I didn't know we were bugging you."
Brooke rimmed her eyes with violet eyeliner. "Well, you were. I don't know whose idea of a joke it was to put me in a room with two eighth-graders. I thought I'd die when Kurt opened the door for me and saw you two bouncing on the beds!"
"He is too adorable!" Lea squealed. "How did you find him so fast?"
Brooke smiled with satisfaction. "He found me, my dear."
"That was fast thinking, telling him you were our chaperone," Erin noted.
"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" Brooke looked at the two small, slim young girls with their wide-eyed faces. She'd been so glad her younger sister Amanda wasn't coming on the trip—but now she was stuck with two little twerps, anyway. But she intended to spend every moment of this trip with Kurt, so maybe it wouldn't be all that bad.
Surveying herself in the mirror over the dresser, Brooke was pleased with her image. She wore a one-piece, body-hugging, blue stretch ski suit with red and gold epaulets on the shoulders and gold braiding down the sides. She'd moussed her short hair into a stylish upswept pouf and just finished retouching her makeup. I look at least twenty, maybe even twenty-one, she decided happily. She bent and pulled on a pair of short black fur-trimmed boots. Perfect, she thought, looking down at her feet.
"Girls," she said, turning to Lea and Erin. "It's too bad I have to put up with the two of you in my room. But you might be able to earn the privilege. If you see me with Kurt, act like I'm sort of a teacher. You know, ask me for permission to do stuff and things like that."
Lea laughed. "Should we ask you if we can go to the bathroom?"
"Hopefully something a little more tasteful," Brooke sighed.
"I'd feel too dumb," said Erin, tucking a piece of her straight brown hair behind one ear. "But it might be funny."
Perhaps these two will serve some purpose after all, Brooke consoled herself. She checked her gold watch. "It's nearly 10:15. You girls are going to miss the welcoming brunch downstairs."
"Wow! It's really that late?" cried Lea, bouncing off the bed. "Let's go."
"I'll give you girls a head start," said Brooke.
"I forgot," said Erin. "You wouldn't want anyone to think you were with us. Heaven forbid!"
"Exactly," Brooke confirmed.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with us," Lea chortled as she and Erin tumbled out of the room.
Brooke counted to ten, then went downstairs, following the signs to the banquet room. When she got there she was greeted by the smell of delicious food. Most of the students were already seated around the many round tables, eating. She scanned the room for Kurt.
"There he is," she breathed, spotting him at the back of the room on a slightly raised platform with a microphone. He was talking to Mr. Killer and Ms. Beeman, two of the chaperoning teachers. "Darn," she muttered. She couldn't approach him while he was with them. Too risky. Might as well get something to eat.
Brooke surveyed the room just to see who was with whom and what was happening. There was nothing that fascinated her more than other people's lives.
Moving along the brunch line, Brooke took her food and found an empty table. She was in no mood to chitchat, and if Kurt came over, she didn't want anyone blowing her cover as a chaperone. "My, my," she murmured, catching sight of Arseman and Matt eating together. What is going on here?
Jake and Courtney were sitting together. Ashley was alone at another table, but then Chris sat next to her. Now where was. . . .
Her thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Hiller, who made a speech about the rules he expected the students to adhere to. Then he introduced Kurt and stepped aside. "We at Snowridge would like to welcome you," Kurt addressed the group, with his slightly accented voice. "Those of you who are beginners, I suggest you stick to the small hills near the lodge. Tomorrow you can take on the beginner hill. For the rest of you, please be realistic about your skill levels and choose appropriate trails. They are all marked. There will be lots for you to do besides skiing. The list of activities for your group is posted on the bulletin board in the lobby. My name is Kurt. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me or any of the other instructors. You can identify us by our Snowridge jackets. Have a great time."
Impulsively, Brooke broke into applause but was quickly silenced by the amused stares of the kids around her.
Ignoring them, she watched Kurt's every move as he stepped off the platform and headed over to the brunch line. With her heart pounding, she moved toward him. There were only a few stragglers left at the buffet now. It was just right.
"Well, well, we meet again," she cooed, coming up beside him.
"So we do," he replied, smiling. "Have you eaten yet?"
"Yes," she answered. How stupid of me! she thought. I should have lied.
"How's the ankle?" he asked, pouring himself a hot chocolate.
Brooke looked at him blankly. "The wha . . . ? Oh, the ankle. My ankle!" She frowned suddenly. "Terrible. It hurts like crazy." She leaned against the table. "Really bad."
"Hey," he said. "The health club downstairs has a whirlpool. That ankle might benefit from a soak."
Brooke felt as if she were melting into the blue-ness of Kurt's eyes. "A soak, yes," she said, suddenly realizing that she'd been so busy admiring him that she hadn't really been listening. "That's probably a good idea. Would you come with me?"
He checked his watch. "I won't be free until nearly four. I'd hate for you to have to wait that long."
"Oh, that's no problem," she assured him. "I have so many duties with these kids. I wouldn't be able to do it until then, either."
At that very moment, Lea and Erin hurried up to the buffet table. "Oh, Brooke," said Lea, her eyes alive with laughter. "Can we please have permission . . . to use your makeup?"
Brooke was stunned. She didn't want their grubby little fingers in her things. But she didn't want to appear petty. "I hardly wear any makeup," she said sweetly. "But you're welcome to the little I do have."
"Thanks, Brookie," Erin tittered. "You're the greatest chaperone ever."
You'll pay for this, Brooke silently seethed. "They're such sweet kids," she said to Kurt. "So, anyway, can you meet me?"
"I suppose so. I wouldn't mind taking a soak," he agreed. "You should stay off that ankle until then."
"I'll try. See you at four," she answered. With a smile, he left the room. Brooke watched him go, unable to unglue her eyes from his lean figure.
Yes! Yes! Everything was going great! she thought. She headed for the door. There was no sense standing around. She had a lot to do before four.


Chapter 6

"I CAN'T BELIEVE those guys didn't want to go skiing right away," Arseman said as she stood on the chair-lift line that afternoon. It had turned into a clear, crisp, cold day with just a few fluffy clouds in a brilliant blue sky.
"They're just chicken," laughed Matt, standing behind her. "They'd rather wait until they have their lessons tomorrow."
"It does make sense, really," Arseman conceded. "And I'm sure they'll have fun skating. It's just that you could do that anytime."
Soon they were riding up the mountainside, swaying a little as the chair lift carried them along. Arseman glanced at Matt. He was good-looking, she had to admit. And not at all like she thought he was. She'd had him pegged as a thickheaded jock right from the start.
Which he is, she thought, smiling to herself. But he's also more than that. He's funny and smart and nice. His being nice was the most surprising part. Arseman didn't think that someone as competitive as Matt could be nice. But she had been wrong.
"Are you getting off halfway or going all the way to the top?" she asked him.
"I was planning on going to the top," he answered. "What about you?"
"I'm definitely getting off at the mid-station. I couldn't possibly deal with the expert trails further up," she replied.
"I'll get off with you, then," he said. "It's more fun to ski with someone else."
"What about Ashley?" Arseman asked bluntly. "She's really bent out of shape that you and I were talking on the bus."
"Courtney told me," he said with a nod. "I don't know what's with her. We made up right before brunch, but then I asked her if she wanted to come skiing. She said she wanted me to go skating with her."
"So why didn't you?" Arseman asked, as the mid-station cabin came into sight.
"Because I wanted to ski."
"It wouldn't have killed you to go skating," Arseman pointed out.
"It wouldn't have killed her to come skiing," Matt insisted. "Then she got mad. She said I always have to do everything my way."
"And that's when you came over to sit with me, I guess."
"Well, yeah," he admitted. "She acts like I'm always the bad guy. But what about her? She wants to do things her way as much as I do. I might have gone skating if she hadn't jumped all over my case. I want to get back together with Ashley, but not if it means she's going to be telling me what to do every minute of my life."
"Ashley probably feels the same way," said Arseman. "Man! The two of you are both so bull-headed."
"I don't exactly think you're one to talk."
Arseman laughed. "You're probably right."
When the chair reached the mid-station they got off and headed towards the nearest intermediate run. "Can you handle this?" Matt asked, looking down the trail.
"Let's give it a try," Arseman replied gamely. Together they pushed off and were soon whizzing down the lightly powdered slope.
Arseman sucked in her breath, trying hard to stay in control. Soon everything clicked and skiing seemed effortless. She sped past Matt, exhilarated and proud. Then Arseman saw a field of bumpy moguls just ahead. There was no way she could manage them at this speed. She quickly decided to make herself fall down.
"Here I go," she shouted, throwing herself backwards. Down she went, her skis kicking out from under her. One of them snapped loose from the binding and popped off as she spun off to the side in a cloud of powdery snow.
Matt came to a sharp stop beside Arseman. "Whoa! What a wipe out! You didn't tell me you were Evel Knievel the stunt skier. Are you all right?"
"I'm still moving, so I guess so," Arseman said, relieved to find that except for having a cold behind, nothing really hurt.
"Now do you see why men athletes get paid more?" Matt taunted as he helped her to her feet.
"Grrrr," Arseman bared her teeth and growled. "Don't start with that again. Women skiers go flying off ski jumps just like men do."
"I know. I couldn't resist, though," he smiled, kneeling in front of her with her other ski. "Lean on me and I'll help you get this back on. It's hard to balance in the snow."
Arseman touched his back with her fingertips while he adjusted the ski. It was a strange feeling, having him fix her ski as if she were a child. But it would have been hard to manage by herself.
"There," he said, getting up. "All done. If you ski back and forth across the trail it will be easier to stay in control."
"Okay," she said. "You don't have to stop for me next time. I don't want to hold you up."
"Yeah, like I'm really going to leave you stuck in a snowbank somewhere," he scoffed as he took off.
Determined not to be pulled out of a snowbank, Arseman followed. Before she knew it, the lodge was coming into sight. They were nearly at the bottom.
Matt stopped at the top of a gentle hill just before the lodge. "You're really good."
"Thanks," said Arseman, enjoying the praise. "I'll race you to the bottom."
"You're on," Matt agreed. "On the count of three." They counted together, then pushed off. Bent forward, with her poles tucked snugly under her arms, Arseman was thrilled to be going so fast. Her trip down the trail had brought back the real thrill of schussing down the slopes. She felt much more in command than she had before.
Now Arseman was in the lead. The lodge was quickly looming up before her. But, as she prepared to stop, a girl turned the far corner of the lodge and trudged through the snow, directly crossing Arseman's path.
It was Ashley! And—perhaps because the sun was in her eyes—she didn't seem aware of Arseman at all.
"Look out!" Arseman shouted, trying desperately to slow down. "Look out!"
It was no use. In seconds, the two girls collided—Arseman smashing into Ashley. The impact sent both of them sprawling backwards into the snow.
Arseman sat up and saw Ashley propped on her elbows, looking dazed. "Wow! I'm sorry," Arseman said.
Ashley started to apologize, too. But when she realized it was Arseman who'd plowed her down, her eyes narrowed angrily. "I should have known it would—"
Just then, Matt skied up to them. "Boy, that was a nasty crack-up," he commented. "Are you guys okay?"
"I'm all right," said Arseman quickly. "See if you can help Ashley."
Matt approached Ashley, but she scrambled to her feet. "No thank you," she snapped at him, brushing the caked snow from her clothes. "I was coming to look for you, but I see Arseman already found you."
"Ashley, we were just—" Arseman began.
"I don't care what you were just doing," Ashley interrupted. Then she turned and stomped off back to the lodge.


Chapter 7

"DON'T YOU HAVE anything other than these hideous tank suits?" Brooke complained to the saleswoman at the Snowridge Sports Shop.
"I'm sorry, that's all we stock," the woman replied. "You might try the Fashion Boutique upstairs."
Brooke hurried out of the shop and up the wooden stairs to the second level. She checked her watch. Already 3:45! She had no time for this. Everyone around here dawdled so! The man who'd trimmed her hair at the beauty salon had taken over half an hour. Then the manicurist had been late, and she'd lost twenty minutes waiting for her. And the facial had taken forever! The woman kept telling her to relax and release her tension. Didn't the dolt understand? She was there to get gorgeous skin, not to release tension! Then there was the idiot who did her makeup. She had been so slow you'd think she was painting the Mona Lisa instead of applying eyeshadow.
"I must have a bathing suit," said Brooke, flying into the small boutique. "Tell me you carry them."
"No, we don't," said the saleswoman behind the counter apologetically. "You should try the sports shop down—"
"Oh please!" Brooke interrupted. "I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those things."
Just then, she caught sight of a rack of designer workout wear against the back wall. "Yes!" she said happily, as she hurried to it. Her hand shot out and grabbed a stylish black and silver leotard. Wide black straps came from shoulder to waist, holding together the silver top and bikini bottom—the sides and upper stomach were left bare. "This is just the thing!" Brooke said, holding it in front of her.
"I've always thought this outfit was a little much as a workout suit, but it does make a nice bathing suit," the saleswoman commented as Brooke tossed it onto the counter.
Brooke cast her a quick, impatient smile. She drummed the glass top anxiously while the woman wrote up the charge slip. Thank heavens she'd remembered to bring her father's credit cards. Practically snatching the bag from the woman's hands, she walked at a trot down to the sports club. The absolute worst thing that could happen would be if Kurt arrived and, thinking she wasn't coming, turned and left.
Dashing into the ladies' dressing room, she ripped off her clothes and pulled on her new work-out wear turned swim wear. To her relief, it looked great. She stuffed her things into a locker and ran out into the pool area.
There was a small aqua-blue kidney-shaped pool in the middle of the room. Off to the side was a whirlpool set into pine planking. Kurt wasn't anywhere in sight.
Brooke scurried to the whirlpool and sat at the edge. Dipping her right foot daintily into the warm water, she curled her other foot beneath her. In the next second, Kurt came in. In his cotton bathing trunks he was even more gorgeous than she could have imagined. He had the kind of long, lean muscles Brooke adored. "Oh, Kurt," Brooke sang out sweetly. "This was such a great idea. The whirlpool is working wonders."
His brow furrowed. "Wasn't it your left ankle that turned?"
"Was it? I mean, it was. Absolutely. Yes." Brooke shifted, pulling her right foot out of the water and dipping her left foot in. "Um . . . I had already soaked my left foot, so I wanted to do my right. You know, to keep them even. Actually, I'm sort of new to this whirlpool business."
"So I see," he said, laughing kindly.
With a long sigh, Kurt sunk into the whirlpool down to his neck. "Mmmmmmm, this feels so good," he sighed, closing his eyes.
Brooke slid into the pool beside him. "It is heavenly," she agreed, stretching out her arms. To her horror, she looked down and saw the tag to her new leotard floating in the water right at her waist. She looked at Kurt. He was lying with his head supported by the edge of the whirlpool, his eyes still closed. Desperately she began yanking at the tag.
Snap! It came loose. She let the churning water sweep it away.
"I hope you'll be well enough to ski," said Kurt, stretching his sinewy arms along the side of the whirlpool until his fingertips nearly touched Brooke's back. "It would be a shame if you were laid up for the entire trip and didn't get to do any skiing."
"I'd simply have to find other things to do with my time," she said flirtatiously.
"I'm sure you could," he replied. "Have you any plans for this evening?"
"Not yet," she breathed.
"There's quite a bit to do," he said. "After work, I like to have a drink at the Snowdrift Lounge."
"Is that for employees only?"
"Not at all. It's open to anyone. I'm usually there around eightish. Why don't you come on down? You might like it," he said.
"Oh, I'm sure I would adore it. I even love the name, Snowdrift. It's very poetic."
Just then, Brooke noticed a long white piece of paper spinning in the middle of the whirlpool. It was her tag!
With a disgusted expression, Kurt fished the tag from the water. "This is a tag for ladies' work-out clothes," he said incredulously, reading the soggy slip. "Somebody came right into the whirlpool wearing brand-new workout stuff. Can you believe that?"
"That's terrible," agreed Brooke. "Some people are just too much."
Kurt pulled himself out of the whirlpool. "I've got to run. I promised to help out behind the rental counter for half an hour. Maybe I'll see you tonight."
"Maybe," Brooke said, trying to sound mysterious and alluring. There are no maybes about it, she thought to herself as he walked away. No maybes at all.


Chapter 8

ASHLEY FLOPPED ONTO the large plaid couch in the lodge rec room. The cozy fire in the tall stone fireplace warmed her. Above, heavy wooden beams gave the room a rustic, cabinlike feel.
Just behind the couch was a pool table. Nearby was a Ping-Pong table and a jukebox. The room was fairly empty. A lot of students had gone to bed early or were hanging out in their rooms. The only other students were two senior girls who were playing an evenly matched game of Ping-Pong.
The light clunk of the ball as it went back and forth lulled Ashley into a kind of trance. What a day it had been! One of the worst she could remember. And the thought that Arseman and Matt were probably spending the evening together made it even worse. She knew there was a good chance they'd be coming to the rec room later, and she couldn't stay away. It would be too much like giving up.
"Hi," said Courtney, coming into the room. "How's your wrist?" Ashley had come down hard on her wrist when she and Arseman had smashed into one another.
"It feels a lot better," Ashley said. "It's not nearly as hurt as my feelings."
"You are really giving yourself a rough time," said Courtney as she sat beside Ashley.
"I'm giving myself a rough time!" Ashley sputtered.
"You could have gone skiing with Matt. He asked you," Courtney reminded her. "He didn't ask Arseman."
"Yeah, but she just happened to show up, didn't she?" said Ashley.
"This is a skiing trip," Courtney pointed out.
"Well, she knew the rest of us were going skating," Ashley sulked. "And I couldn't go with Matt, not when he acted so macho about it." She squared her shoulders and did an imitation of Matt. "Ashley, we should ski. You can skate at home," she said in a deep, assertive voice.
"He didn't say it like that," Courtney laughed.
"Well, almost," Ashley insisted, smiling slightly. "You know, when we first started going out he was always in the lead and I would follow him around like a little puppy."
"It never looked that way," said Courtney.
"It felt that way to me," Ashley said. "I didn't mind it then because that's who I was. I listened to my parents. I listened to my teachers. I listened to Matt. But things are different with me now. I can't go back to that."
"Then maybe—I'm only saying maybe—you can't go back to Matt at all," Courtney suggested delicately.
Folding her arms, Ashley let Courtney's words sink in. One of the qualities Ashley most admired in Courtney was her honesty.
"You know what?" Ashley said. "I think you might be right. Matt and I knew this weekend would make or break us—and I guess it broke us. Neither of us thought it would all happen so fast, but it did. What's the use of dragging it on?"
"Are you sure?" Courtney questioned.
"Yes. I'm pretty sure I'm sure," said Ashley.
"Does that mean you're not angry with Arseman anymore?" Courtney asked hopefully.
"No, I'm still mad at her," Ashley said emphatically. "Arseman doesn't care about my feelings at all."
"Well, she might be just a little mad at you too," said Courtney. "You've been pretty hard on her."
Ashley spotted Chris coming into the rec room. There was a time when she'd had a mild crush on him. And she knew he still liked her. He did flirt a bit on the bus with her, after all. Maybe she'd brushed him off too quickly.
"I think it's time to move on with my life," Ashley said, suddenly sitting forward.
Courtney followed Ashley's gaze. "Not Chris," she objected. "I thought that was all over with."
"Don't you think he's cute?" asked Ashley.
"I think he's bad news, Ashley," Courtney replied.
"He's not like that with me. He's funny, and kind of sweet."
"That's because he's trying to get you to like him," said Courtney. "Once he thinks he's got you, you'll see the real him."
Ashley stood. "You can't say that for sure," she said with an irritated edge to her voice. "Besides, I'm not spending this entire weekend watching Arseman and Matt fall for each other."
She headed across the room to where Chris leaned against the jukebox studying the selections. "See anything you like?" she asked, coming up alongside him.
"Now I do," he said with a flirtatious smile.
At that moment, Matt and Arseman came into the rec room, laughing loudly. Ashley stiffened slightly and Chris, trying to test how she felt, said, "They've sure been having fun this weekend."
"Have they?" asked Ashley. "I hadn't noticed. Come on. Do you know how to play pool?"
"Sure," Chris replied.
Ashley took his arm and led him toward the table. "I'm just a beginner."
While Chris racked the balls, using the triangle, Ashley saw Courtney, Jake, Matt, and Arseman move to the table hockey game. She suddenly felt so left out. She was supposed to be there playing with that group. Not Arseman.
"Want to break?" asked Chris.
"Huh?" Ashley said, turning her attention back to him.
"Break up the balls."
"No, you go first. I need to watch you to refresh my memory." Chris picked up his stick and aimed at the cue ball. With a sharp crack, the cue ball sent the colored balls scattering across the green felt table. He was a skillful player and kept sinking the balls into the pockets, one by one.
Each time a ball disappeared, Ashley murmured, "Oh, wow, that's great." But from the corner of her eye, she was keeping a watch on Matt. He hadn't even said hello to her when he came in. So much for his being madly in love with her.
One time, Ashley looked over and discovered that he was looking back at her. For one brief second, their eyes locked. Then both of them turned away quickly.
What's over is over, she thought decidedly. But, if that was true, why did she feel so awful? Matt didn't seem to feel awful, though. She stole another peek, only to see Arseman score a point and Matt gleefully hug her.
"Darn!" Chris cried. He'd finally missed a shot. "Your turn."
No more feeling bad for me, Ashley decided. From now on, I'm having nothing but fun. Taking up her stick, she aimed at a red ball.
"Pick your elbow up higher," Chris instructed. "The way you're aiming, you're going to miss that ball by a mile."
"Like this?" Ashley asked, raising her elbow.
"That's too high," said Chris, coming around the table toward her. "I'll show you." Standing behind Ashley, he wrapped his arms around her so that they could both hold her cue stick. Together, they leaned forward and shot the ball.
In the last second before the cue connected with the ball, Ashley took a darting glance over at Matt. Her heart leapt with satisfaction. He was watching—and his dark eyes were glowering.
Turning back to the game, Ashley let Chris move her arm and shoot the ball. With a gentle thud, the ball hit the side of the pocket and bounced back to the middle of the table. "That was close," said Chris, moving away. "Stick with me and I'll have you playing pool like an ace."
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, Ashley saw a small black disc—a puck—hurtling through the air toward Chris. "Look out, Chris!" she shouted.
Alerted by her cry, Chris raised his hands to his face and jumped out of the way. "What's the idea?" he shouted angrily at the table hockey players.
"Sorry, man," said Matt in a flat, unconvincing tone. "I guess I hit the puck a little too hard."
"You did that on purpose!" yelled Chris.
The side of Matt's mouth twisted up into a smirky half-smile. "No, really. It was just an accident."
Chris's eyes narrowed as he stormed over to Matt. Although Matt towered over Chris, the shorter boy's rage and toughness made him seem formidable. With a flat palm he shoved Matt hard on the shoulder. "If you've got a problem, I'll be happy to settle it."
"Don't shove me, you squirt!" growled Matt.
Chris threw a punch. Matt ducked it. Then when he tried to return the punch, he found Jake holding his arm back. "Come on, Matt," said Jake. "It's not worth it."
"Leave me alone, Jake!" Matt cried, pulling free from Jake's grip. In the next second Chris leaped on Matt and the two boys tumbled to the floor with their arms flailing at one another.
Just then Dylan came into the room. Sizing up the situation, he sprinted from the doorway and pulled Chris away from Matt. "What's going on?" he asked, holding Chris back.
"This turkey flung a hockey puck at my head," panted Chris.
Dylan's dark eyes darted around the room, taking in the cast of characters, and finally rested on Ashley. "I think I get the picture," he said.
"Come on, Matt," said Arseman, gently pulling Matt's arm. "Let's go outside and cool down."
Matt let Arseman draw him away, out of the rec room. At the same time, Dylan pulled Chris over by the fireplace to give him some breathing space.
Ashley, still standing by the pool table, realized her eyes were filling with tears. Everything was so confusing! And nothing was going right.
It was time to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head. And maybe stay that way for the rest of this trip. Quickly, she headed toward the door.
"Ashley," Courtney called after her. Ashley didn't answer. When she got out into the hall, she saw Matt and Arseman down at the other end. They were having a serious discussion—the kind she and Matt used to have. Ashley recognized the body language. Matt was slumped against the wall, his head hanging. Arseman stood in front talking.
But something was different. There was a softness, a kindness between Matt and Arseman that she and Matt hadn't shared in a long time. Ashley knew that if she were standing in Arseman's place right now, her posture would be different. She'd be strident, angry at Matt for hurling the hockey puck, for losing his temper yet again.
A wave of remorse washed over Ashley. Perhaps she hadn't been a good enough friend to Matt over these last few months.
But he was the one who had made a mess of things!
Still, she envied Arseman. It was she—not Ashley—who was there with Matt, speaking so softly. So intimately.
A fat tear rolled down Ashley's cheek as she ran down the hall, wanting to get far away from Matt and Arseman.


Chapter 9

Lea & Erin,
Don't bother waiting for me tonight! I'm meeting Kurt, the gorgeous ski instructor—once he's done with the clods in his beginner's class, that is. (Oops! Are you two in that class? Sorry!) And if Billy asks where I am, don't tell him. I've been trying to ditch that little boy scout all day. I guess he just has a mad crush on me. Who can blame him?
See ya,

"There," said Brooke, laying the note on Erin's bed. She chuckled softly to herself. Kurt hadn't really had a beginner's class late that afternoon. But it had been a fun way to get a dig in at them. The nerve of those two munchkins! Thinking they could get the best of her!
Brooke pulled on her soft white parka with the fur-trimmed hood and left her room. She hurried down the hallway breathless with anticipation. Tonight would be the most wonderful, most romantic night of her life.
Outside, the moonlight glistened on the snow. "Darn this stupid ice," Brooke grumbled as she tottered toward the Snowdrift Lounge in her high-heeled boots. The lounge wasn't far from the main resort, but Brooke was so anxious that the walk seemed endless.
Finally, though, she reached the heavy wooden door and yanked it open. Soft rock music wafted through speakers on the ceiling and the lights were soothingly low. Good, thought Brooke, unzipping her parka. Low lights would help disguise her age.
To the right was a long, straight pinewood bar with stools, and to the left, soft blue loveseats were arranged around low pine tables. On the far wall was a square, rather modern-looking fireplace.
Small groups of people clustered on the couches near the fireplace. A quick glance around told Brooke that Kurt hadn't arrived yet. He'd said eightish. It was now ten after eight. Eightish could mean any time in the next half hour. She decided it might be smart to duck into the ladies' room—not only to freshen her makeup, but also to stay away from bartenders and bouncers who might want to see some identification.
Brooke stepped into the ladies' room near the front door. "Not exactly luxurious," she muttered, surveying the plain, two-stall bathroom. It was certainly no place to bide her time until Kurt arrived, as she'd hoped. It did, however, have a full-length mirror next to the sink. Pushing back her jacket, she put her hands on her hips and studied her outfit—slim black pants and a fuzzy white V-neck sweater with gold thread running along the collar. She was pleased with the way the gold thread highlighted the gold of her large hoop earrings and even carried over to the gold powder she'd used to dust her cheekbones and temples. Yes, all the preparation had paid off, she thought happily. She looked spectacular. No one would guess she was underage.
The bathroom door opened and a beautiful blond woman Brooke had seen in the lounge came in. She wore jeans, an oversized nubby sweater, and cowboy boots. Her straight hair was cut bluntly at her shoulders. She didn't have on any makeup, but her light golden tan made her complexion glow. Brooke thought she'd never seen anyone more natural-looking or gorgeous.
As the woman stepped into the stall, Brooke turned on the water and washed her hands. Suddenly, she was much less satisfied with her appearance. Maybe she should have gone for a sportier look, she thought, rubbing some of the gold powder from her cheekbones.
When the woman came out of the stall, she smiled at Brooke. Then she washed her hands and left. She probably has a terrible personality, thought Brooke as she left the bathroom. And I bet she's dumb as a post, besides. With that thought, Brooke's confidence rose again. She headed for the bar and took a seat. The short, balding bartender gave her a questioning look. "A sloe gin fizz," she said quickly. She'd sampled one once at her cousin's college graduation party. It was the only drink she could stomach.
"I don't stock sloe gin," said the bartender, eyeing her suspiciously. "And I'll need to see some I.D."
"I.D.?" Brooke giggled, as if he must be joking around with her.
"I.D.," he repeated, unamused.
"Why, I left my driver's license back in my room. I never drink and drive, so I never even bring my license when I go to a bar. It's a little system I have to make sure I don't climb behind the wheel of a car if I've been—"
"That's a commendable sentiment, Miss," interrupted the bartender. "But I still need to see some I.D. Why don't you go back to your room and get your license?"
"Excellent idea," said Brooke, sliding off her stool. "I'll go do that. See you in a moment." She wanted to die of mortification. How was she going to explain this to Kurt? Would he still be interested in her if he discovered her real age? Stepping outside, a blast of cold air suddenly chilled her.
Get real, Brooke, she chided herself. Kurt won't want a teenager when he's surrounded by all these stunning women.
Jamming her hands in her pockets, she stood outside, not knowing what to do. Then a plan began coming together in her head. She could hide behind one of the big vans or pickups parked outside the lounge. When she saw him coming, she'd sneak up behind him and appear to be hurrying up to meet him. This had the added advantage of making it appear that she was the one who was late. It was never a good strategy to seem overly eager.
Brooke pulled up her hood and found a shadowy spot at the side of a brown Ford pickup. It was perfect. She'd have a good view of Kurt arriving down the well-lit walkway. It would give her enough time to run around and meet him before he reached the door.
After several minutes of waiting, Brooke began to slap her leather-gloved hands together and stomp her feet. Standing still made the cold air seem doubly frigid. Grouched low, Brooke peeked around the corner of the truck. Still no Kurt.
Just then, a hand clasped her shoulder.
"Aaahhhh!" Brooke screamed. She whirled around—and found herself face to face with Billy.
"Are you all right?" he asked, concerned.
"Of course I'm all right," she hissed, catching her breath. "You scared me to death. What are you doing lurking around here in the middle of the night?"
"Me?" he asked. "I'm not lurking. I was looking for you. I asked Lea and Erin if they'd seen you, and they said you'd come out the door in this direction."
I'll murder those two dweebs, Brooke seethed.
"I thought maybe you'd gone for a walk or something," Billy continued, "and I came out to catch up with you."
"A walk! Brilliant idea," said Brooke with a smile.
"Great," said Billy happily. "I know some places we could go. Of course we'd have to go back for a flashlight, but I have my compass and I wouldn't get us lost."
At that moment, Kurt came into view. Brooke inhaled anxiously at the sight of him looking so unbelievable in jeans, a blue crew-neck sweater, and a dark green heavy woolen sports jacket.
She didn't waste a moment, but was instantly making a wide circle away from the truck and around to the walkway.
"So, what do you say?" came a voice behind her.
"Billy, you're going to have to go," she hissed over her shoulder, not missing a step, as he trailed behind her.
"Oh, no I don't. I don't have to be anywhere," he replied innocently, still following.
"Billy, you don't understand. I need you to get lost."
Billy stopped, crestfallen. "I suppose that means you don't want to take a walk."
"That's right, Billy. Now good-bye." Brooke had no time to look back at Billy again. She had to meet up with Kurt. In the next instant she broke into a near run. "Oh, Kurt!" she called out.
Kurt turned and smiled. "Brooke, I'm glad you came!"
"Yes, after an entire day with those kids, I really do need a drink," she said, catching up to him.
"The whirlpool seems to have worked wonders on your ankle," he observed.
"Oh, absolutely. It's fine. You're a genius for having suggested it."
"No, I'm no genius."
"And modest, too!" Brooke laughed. Now was the moment. She'd have to play this exactly right. "You know, Kurt," she began, "I thought I wanted a drink, but I do need a clear head for tomorrow. There will be so much going on. What I'd really like to do is take a walk."
"A walk is certainly a healthier way to relieve tension," Kurt agreed.
"Where would be a good place to go?" Brooke asked. "I'm so unfamiliar with the area."
"Actually, this pathway we're on right now swings around the lounge, travels over by the supply shed, and then curves back to the resort."
Brooke gave a short sigh and knit her brow. "It's dark and I'd hate to get lost. Maybe I'll just go back to my room."
"No, no," he objected pleasantly. "We couldn't have that. Why don't I take the walk with you?"
"Are you sure you don't mind?" asked Brooke, taking his arm.
"I don't mind at all," he replied, leading her past the lounge door and around the side of the building.
This is getting better and better with every moment, she sighed to herself. All her instincts told her that she and Kurt were about to enter phase two of their new romance.


Chapter 10

THE NEXT MORNING, Billy opened his eyes and saw the soft morning light filtering in through the heavy curtains. Across from him, Matt and Jake still slept, Matt snoring lightly and Jake completely encased in his blankets. Billy was glad it was finally morning. He'd had a hard night's sleep, tossing and turning. He'd had fitful dreams in which Brooke had looked at him with loving eyes, bending forward to kiss him, only to turn away at the last second and walk off with a tall, handsome ski instructor.
"What a dope," he scolded himself softly. He'd really convinced himself Brooke might like him. I'm just a twerpy little kid to her, he realized. Turning on his side, he let that reality sink in. It hurt, made him feel ridiculous—but at least he was facing the truth.
Now there was only one more problem left. How was he going to get over her?
It was like torture. He didn't want to think about her. But there she was, in his head. Her name, her face, her voice!
Love stinks, he decided, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. As he did, Jake's alarm began to buzz. From under his covers, Jake's arm reached out to silence the alarm. Instead, his groping hand knocked the clock from the dresser. Billy walked across to the buzzing clock, picked it up off the carpet, and turned it off.
"Thanks," said Jake drowsily, taking the clock from him. Then he reached to the floor and picked up a sneaker. "Hey!" he called, tossing the sneaker onto the still-snoring Matt. "It's time to get up."
Trying to wake himself up, Matt sat up and looked at Jake blankly. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. Then he remembered. "Ten more minutes," he said, flopping back onto the bed.
"Good, that means I have ten minutes to take a shower," said Billy, heading for the bathroom.
Jake rubbed his hands up and down on his face trying to wake up. "No more minutes," he told Matt. "Our skiing lesson is at eight o'clock."
"I don't need a lesson," said Matt, sticking his head under the pillow.
"Didn't you promise Arseman you'd take the lesson with her and be her partner?" Jake reminded him.
"Yeah," Matt mumbled.
"What's going on with you and Arseman?" Jake asked, as he pulled a sweater and jeans from the bureau. "You've been spending a lot of time with her."
"So?" asked Matt, sitting up sleepily.
"So, I thought you didn't like her that much."
Matt yawned and ran his hands through his hair, making it stand up on end. "I'm getting to know her better. She's pretty cool. That's all."
"Are you sure that's all?" asked Jake meaningfully.
"Yeah. Of course. We're just friends," Matt replied. "I think so, anyway. I guess anything could happen. You never know."
"I'm done," said Billy, coming out of the shower a few minutes later wearing his robe.
"Let me get in there before Matt the Shower King goes in for his half-hour ritual," said Jake, grabbing his clothes.
"Get out of here," Matt scoffed. "I don't spend half an hour in there."
"Okay, twenty minutes," Jake conceded on his way to the bathroom.
While Billy dressed, Matt lay back on the bed and studied the ceiling. Was he interested in Arseman? Ironically, the thought might never have occurred to him if Ashley wasn't acting so jealous. Maybe she noticed something between them—something he hadn't.
Arseman was pretty, and she was fun, and they liked each other. What was stopping him?
Was it Ashley?
Matt had to face the fact that Ashley and he were not having much luck as a couple. It always seemed like he was letting her down, disappointing her. Arseman, on the other hand, was so accepting. Sure, she could be sharp-tongued, but she liked him as he was. It was a nice feeling.
"The shower is yours, oh well-groomed one," Jake teased as he came out of the shower wrapped in a towel.
"Ready for a shocker? I'm not taking a shower this morning," said Matt as he pulled off his pajama top.
"The world must be coming to an end," Billy joked.
"No. I'm just in a hurry to hit the slopes," said Matt. As he spoke he realized something.
He was really in a hurry to see Arseman.


Chapter 11

"OH, MAN! SHE looks like she's going to croak," Arseman said to Courtney. "That's the guy she's been chasing since we got here."
Arseman could barely suppress her laughter as she looked at Brooke's face. They were all gathered outside the lodge for their first skiing lesson. Brooke was a knockout in her hot pink ski pants, matching hot pink jacket and fuzzy hot pink hat, but the expression on her face was one of complete fury.
"She does look ticked off," Courtney agreed.
"Wouldn't you be if you had to compete with that?" Arseman nodded toward the front of the group where Kurt stood beside a gorgeous blond woman, the same woman Brooke had seen in the lounge the night before. Now she was wearing the plain Snowridge ski instructor outfit—and made it look terrific. Kurt and the woman were apparently in the middle of sharing a very funny story. At one point, as they both laughed, Kurt put his arm around her waist and squeezed.
"They look pretty cozy," said Courtney.
"They look like Ken and Barbie to me," said Arseman. "And I guess that means Brooke is Midge."
They both laughed.
"What's so funny?" asked Matt as he and Jake joined them.
"Oh, nothing," Courtney answered, checking her watch. "I'm really excited about this class. I've never skied before."
"We should be a great pair," said Jake. "Just call us Slip and Slide."
Matt looked up at the graying sky. "Too bad it's not sunny like yesterday," he said.
Just then, Kurt clapped his hands for attention.
"Get ready, Slip," Courtney said to Jake. "Because I think the class is about to start."
"Listen up, everybody," Kurt addressed the group. "My name is Kurt. This is Kristin. We'll be your instructors today. First we'll do some basic review, then you'll show us what you can do. I will work with those of you who are more advanced, and Kristin will work with the beginners. But you must promise me something." Kurt paused dramatically. "All you guys must promise me that you won't pretend to be beginners just so you can work with Kristin."
Everyone smiled. Everyone but Brooke.
"Whoa! If looks could kill," Arseman noted, looking over at Brooke.
"That Kristin would be one fried mama," said Jake.
"Yeah, but look at the way Billy is gazing at Brooke," said Courtney sadly, noticing, her brother standing behind Brooke.
"Poor guy," said Jake. "He'll get over it."
"We all get over stuff," added Matt. Arseman saw that he was looking at Ashley as he spoke. She was standing next to Chris.
For the next hour the kids listened to Kurt and Kristin, and took turns skiing. After that they were divided into groups. Ashley, Chris, Courtney, Jake, Billy, Lea, and four others were put in the beginning group. Arseman was surprised—and pleased—that she was put into the more advanced group with Matt, Erin, and a few other skiers.
"How is rooming with Brooke working out?" Arseman asked Erin, as they waited to practice their stem turns.
"I thought it was going to be terrible," said Erin. "But it's turning out to be fun. She'll do anything we ask."
"What?" Arseman cried in disbelief.
"It's true," said Erin. She told Arseman all about how Brooke was fooling Kurt into thinking she was older. "This ski vest is Brooke's," Erin concluded, proudly modeling the white down vest. "She doesn't dare say no to anything we ask for. She's afraid we'll spill the beans to Kurt."
"That's hysterical," said Arseman.
"I know," Erin agreed. "Brooke has been in such a good mood she doesn't really even mind. She says things with Kurt are going great. She met him last night and they took a long walk. Then they went back to the lodge and sat by the fire, drinking hot cider. And, get this. Kurt asked her to the dance on Sunday night."
"You're kidding!" cried Arseman.
"That's what she told us," Erin confirmed. "She got up at dawn this morning to get dressed. She was actually humming! I've never seen anyone so happy."
"She doesn't look too happy now," Arseman observed. Brooke sat pouting over on a wooden fence. When it was her turn to ski, she'd claimed her ankle was bothering her. "Does she really have a bad ankle?" Arseman asked.
"It seemed fine this morning," Erin replied.
"I bet her ankle is okay," said Arseman. "She's probably just trying to get some attention. Everyone seems to be staring at Kristin."
"Well, she is beautiful," Erin sighed.
"Yeah, she is," Arseman agreed.
"But I bet Brooke will find a way to get Kristin off the scene," said Erin confidently.
"Like pushing her off the mountain top?" said Arseman with a smile.
"That sounds like Brooke's style," Erin giggled.
When the second hour ended, the two groups got back together. "Now we'd like to pair you guys up for a while. We've found it works well if we put strong skiers with weaker ones," Kurt told them.
This news was met with general moaning from the good and not-so-good skiers alike.
"It's just for two hours," Kurt explained. "It slows the hot dogs down for a while until they get their ski legs, and it gives the beginners good role models. When we put two beginners together, one does something wrong and the other imitates it. That's no good. All we ask is that the more advanced don't take the beginners down tough trails. Show some mercy."
As Kurt began putting together pairs, Arseman felt a tug on her sleeve. It was Matt. "Let's split," he whispered.
"But . . ." she began to object.
"Come on," he insisted, pulling her away from the group. Everyone was intent on watching who was being paired with whom, so it was easy to get away unnoticed.
"You didn't want to get stuck skiing with someone you don't like, did you?" Matt asked. "You might have wound up with Chris."
"Or Ashley," Arseman added. "Though that might have given us a chance to patch things up."
"She's still giving you the cold shoulder," Matt surmised.
"Cold is not the word," Arseman confirmed. "And it's really not fair. It's not my fault you guys aren't getting along. The whole thing is ridiculous."
"Ashley just gets overly dramatic about stuff," said Matt.
"I know. But she's my friend. She used to be, anyway. It makes me feel really bad."
"You're still talking to me, though," Matt pointed out.
"I won't stop talking to someone because someone else tells me to," said Arseman. "I couldn't face myself if I lived that way."
They took the lift up to the mid-station and headed towards a trail with thick woods on both sides. It was narrower and more densely wooded than the average run. "If this trail weren't so steep it would be like cross-country skiing," he told her, calling out loudly as they skied along. "Hey, maybe we could rent cross-country skis tomorrow morning."
"Good idea," Arseman shouted back.
For a while, they concentrated on their skiing, but soon they came to a spot where the trail leveled off to an almost-flat surface. Matt stopped first and waited for Arseman to catch up with him. "This must be where you get to rest, because look what's ahead," he told her as she came to a stop.
Arseman stretched up to see what he was looking at. Sure enough, just beyond them, the trail sloped down again sharply. "Doesn't that look challenging!" Arseman laughed warily. "Why don't we rest here a moment while I work up the nerve to take the plunge?"
"Sure," Matt agreed.
They stood a moment, listening to the silence. A gentle snow began to fall. Arseman looked up at Matt. "Isn't this beautiful?" she asked.
Matt looked at her, and she returned his gaze. He turned toward her and she to him. Slowly, he bent to kiss her. They were almost nose to nose when suddenly . . . they began to laugh.
Arseman wasn't sure who began laughing first. It started with a low giggle and grew into chuckles and ended with them hanging onto one another as they roared. Arseman held her side and leaned into Matt, accidentally knocking them both over into the snow. But even as they hit the cold ground, they continued to laugh.
Finally, they caught their breath. "I'm sorry," Arseman said, panting.
"It's okay," Matt answered, still chuckling. "I guess this means we're not in love, huh?"
Arseman threw a handful of powdery snow at him. "I guess that's what it means."
Matt got up and extended his hand to help Arseman to her feet. "Oh, well, at least now we know," he said as she took his hand and got up.
"Now we know," she repeated. "But we're friends, right?"
"Right!" he agreed. "How about a hug, friend?"
"You got it," she said, wrapping her arms around him. They squeezed one another tightly, and in a moment they were laughing again as their skis crossed, causing them to sway back and forth.
"I think I can face this slope now," Arseman said with a grin.
"After facing a near kiss from me nothing scares you. Is that it?" Matt joked.
As a reply, Arseman punched him in the arm. "Let's go," she called, pushing off with her poles.


Chapter 12

"BUT, BROOKE," SAID Ashley, as they sat together on the ski lift. "I don't want to go to the top of the mountain."
The chair approached the mid-station, but Brooke held out her arm to stop Ashley from pushing up the safety bar. "We have to," she insisted. Abruptly, Brooke turned in her seat and smiled at Kurt, who was in the chair behind them, sitting with Courtney. "I told Kurt I was an expert skier."
"But he won't go to the top of the mountain with Courtney," Ashley said.
"That's just the point!" Brooke snapped angrily. "I don't want him to see me ski!"
"What?" asked Ashley, puzzled. "I don't get it."
The chair kept moving, lifting them into the air again. "Careful up there," Kurt called to them as he and Courtney got off at the mid-station.
Brooke waved back to him cheerfully.
"All right, you got your way. Now will you explain to me what's going on?" said Ashley.
"I'm not quite the skier I said I was," Brooke mumbled, looking away.
"You can't ski!" Ashley shrieked in a panic.
"I didn't say that," hissed Brooke. "I can ski. I'm just not an expert."
"Well, we're heading for the expert slopes right now," Ashley pointed out angrily.
Brooke shrugged. "We'll get down. We just have to take it slow."
Shaking her head, Ashley sat back against the chair. Originally, Ashley was paired with Courtney because there weren't enough advanced skiers to go around.
But then Brooke had to open her big mouth.
All Kurt had said to her was: "Looks like you won't be dancing much on Sunday with that ankle."
Presto-chango! Brooke's ankle was miraculously cured. She smiled sweetly at Kurt. "It must have been a sudden spasm," she said. "Because it doesn't hurt a bit now. Maybe I'll do some skiing, after all."
That was when Kurt had decided he would ski with Courtney, and Brooke should team up with Ashley. Oh, well, Ashley had thought. It's only for two hours. I suppose I can stand it. But Ashley didn't know she'd wind up on the expert slopes. And now she didn't know how she was going to make it down.
As they got off at the top of the mountain, a ski attendant waved them over. "Are you two Brooke and Ashley?" he asked.
"Yes. How did you know?" Ashley asked.
"Kurt radioed me from the mid-station. He said to tell you to take that intermediate trail over there on the left. It's long, but it's not as steep as the others up here."
"He knows I'm an expert skier," Brooke huffed.
The girl is completely unbelievable, thought Ashley. She never gives up.
"Then he must be worried about your friend. He told me one of you was a beginner. He was really worried. He's even considering coming to get you," the young man told her.
"He needn't worry," Brooke said, drawing Ashley away by her arm. "Ashley is in good hands with me. But tell him we're taking the intermediate trail if he calls back."
"That was sweet of Kurt," said Ashley as the attendant left.
"He is a totally wonderful guy," agreed Brooke as she made her way to the right.
"The intermediate trail is to the left," Ashley reminded her.
"There's no way we're taking that trail," Brooke announced.
"What do you mean?"
"If Kurt is thinking about coming up here to make sure we're all right, I don't want him to find us. The first place he'll look is the intermediate slope."
"I thought you were madly in love with him!" cried Ashley. "Don't you want to ski with him?"
"You just don't get it, do you?" said Brooke, spitting out the words. "I don't want him to see me ski! Is that too hard for you to understand?"
"Okay, Brooke!" said Ashley. "But do you understand that I don't want to break my neck just to back up some lie you told?"
"Oh, please," said Brooke scornfully. "Don't be so dramatic. You're not going to break your precious neck. Look at those little kids heading for the expert slope. How hard can it be?"
"Those kids have probably been skiing for years," said Ashley. "My cousins started back when they were three."
"All I know is that anything an eight-year-old can do we can certainly do," Brooke said, continuing toward the expert trail.
Ashley dug her poles into the snow. "I'm not going, Brooke."
"Suit yourself."
Turning, Ashley began heading towards the intermediate trail. Brooke kept moving in the opposite direction. With a sigh, Ashley knew she couldn't do it. She couldn't let Brooke go down that slope by herself. It was too dangerous. Turning back, she caught up with Brooke. "You win," she said.
Brooke smiled at her triumphantly. "You'll see. It'll be a cinch."
Seconds later, they stood at the top and looked down the steep trail. "Yeah, right, Brooke," Ashley spoke ironically. "It's a cinch we're going to get killed."
"Don't be such a chicken," said Brooke.
Both girls turned the tips of their skis in to the snowplow position and slowly began to make their way down the slope. Despite several wobbly moments, Ashley found that if she kept making a wide, almost horizontal, path back and forth across the slope she could manage pretty well. But, to her surprise, every time she looked back to see how Brooke was doing, Brooke was either sitting in the snow, or in the process of using her poles to pull herself up. I don't believe it, thought Ashley. She's worse than I am.
Ashley stood and, realizing she'd gotten quite a bit ahead of Brooke, waited for her to catch up. Gazing down the mountain, she saw that they still had a long way to go to the bottom—an extremely long way. And, at the rate Brooke was skiing, it might take a very long time. Above, the sky was becoming the ominous white-gray which Ashley knew meant snow. She shivered slightly and realized that the moment she stopped moving, she started to get cold.
"See, this isn't so bad," shouted Brooke, sliding unsteadily to Ashley with flailing arms, and then tumbling to the ground.
Ashley just rolled her eyes as Brooke struggled to her feet. It served Brooke right. She was the one who'd insisted on taking this trail.
As Brooke stood, brushing the snow from her pants, Ashley noticed something else. "Do you realize there are no other people on this trail?" she said nervously.
"Sure there are," Brooke objected. "What about those kids and their parents?"
Looking down the slope, Ashley saw that they were just small colorful specks moving rapidly down the mountainside. Checking the top of the trail over her shoulder, she made out the shape of a young man skiing down all alone. "At least there's one other person on this trail," she noted.
Brooke looked up sharply. "It's Kurt!" she gasped frantically.
Ashley checked again. "It's hard to tell, but I don't think so," she disagreed.
"It is him! It absolutely is!" cried Brooke, seized with panic. "He's come looking for us."
"It's not the end of the world, Brooke," said Ashley. "Calm down."
"It is the end of the world," said Brooke, looking around as though she were seeking a hiding place. "Once he sees me snowplowing he'll think I'm just a fool. He'll go off schussing down the slopes with that snow bunny, Kristin."
"The way you ski probably doesn't make that much difference to him," said Ashley, a little taken aback by the near-hysteria she heard in Brooke's voice.
"It matters to me," said Brooke, beginning to talk with rapid fire. "I'll just have to ski like an expert. No more plowing along. Maybe if I'm fast enough, he'll never even catch up with us. That's it! He is still near the top. I've got a chance."
"Brooke, wait!" Ashley called out as Brooke took off. She sucked in a gulp of cold air and watched Brooke careen down the slope, her poles swinging. "Oh, no!" Ashley cried as Brooke lost control and zoomed right off the trail, disappearing into the woods.
Cautiously, Ashley skied toward Brooke as quickly as she could. The male skier from before passed by Ashley. It wasn't Kurt.
"Excuse me," Ashley called out to him. But her voice was carried away by the wind. Without even looking at her, he continued down the slope.
Ashley continued on until she reached the spot where Brooke had disappeared. "Brooke!" she called, heading into the pine forest. "Brooke!"
"I'm over here!" came Brooke's reply, spoken in a weak, pain-filled voice.
Ashley found her propped against a thick pine tree about fifteen yards off the trail. Both skis had sprung loose from their bindings. Bending down, Ashley picked up a pole that lay on the ground in front of her. She spotted the other one hanging on a low branch of a spruce tree. "Do you think anything is broken?" Ashley asked when she reached Brooke.
"Just every bone in my body," Brooke muttered weakly.
"Be serious, Brooke," Ashley spoke gently. "Can you stand?"
Brooke tried to push herself up and then winced in pain. Ashley cringed as she looked down at Brooke's right leg. She didn't like the way her ankle was bent. "It may be broken, Brooke," Ashley said.
"Oh, no," Brooke moaned. "It really hurts. You've got to do something, Ashley!" she cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"You have to keep calm, Brooke," said Ashley, fighting her own panic. "This is a ski resort—it's not the wilderness. Someone will find us. I'm going to go out on the trail and try to flag someone down."
Ashley noticed that Brooke's teeth where chattering. Unzipping her jacket, she pulled it off. "Here, let me put this under you," she said, pushing the jacket under Brooke. "At least you won't be sitting on the cold ground."
"Aren't you cold?" asked Brooke, wiping away a tear.
"It's okay, I'm moving," said Ashley. "Listen, I'm going back out to the trail to get help. I'll be right back."
"Don't leave me here," Brooke whimpered. "What if I freeze to death while you're gone?"
"I'll be right back," Ashley repeated. She made her way back out to the trail. Surely at least one person would ski past. But the trail was empty. And after nearly ten minutes of waiting, no one had come along. Anxiously, Ashley looked up at the sky. The white snow clouds now appeared to be very low to the ground and an icy wind tossed the pines. With a sinking heart, Ashley wondered if they'd shut down the slope because of a storm warning. Why else would it be so empty?
At that moment, fat flakes began to fall. Though they fell gently at first, it took only minutes for the flurries to turn into a full, thick snowfall.
After another ten minute wait, Ashley went back into the forest. She found Brooke crying softly, her face in her hands. "It's okay, Brooke," she said. "You'll be okay."
"I'm so cold," Brooke whimpered.
"Brooke," Ashley said slowly. "I have to go get help. I hate to leave you, but it's the only way. I think they may have closed the trails. I don't see anyone skiing by out there. It's not that far. All I have to do is get to the mid-station. From there, I'll send somebody."
"You're going to leave me here all alone!" Brooke cried. "I just saw a rabbit run by. It was huge. Who knows what else is out here?"
"I'll stay if you want me to, but I don't think it's the best plan," said Ashley.
Brooke bit her lip. "You're right. Go ahead."
"Okay. Don't worry. Someone will be right back for you."
"Ashley," Brooke called. "You'll need your coat."
"Keep it. I'll be okay."
"Thanks," said Brooke. "You've been really nice and you don't even like me. We're not exactly friends."
Ashley smiled sadly. "I know. But none of that seems really important right now. Hang in there. I'll be back."
She went out onto the trail. The snow was now coming down in a blinding swirl that stung her face and blanketed her sweater.
"Here goes," Ashley said with grim determination as she got back on the trail and headed down the slope.


Chapter 13

MATT PACED BACK and forth in front of the plate-glass window in the lobby of the lodge. He checked the heavily falling snow for the thousandth time. "Where the heck could they be?" he asked Billy.
"Don't worry. Brooke is an expert skier," Billy assured him.
"That's bull! Who told you that?" Matt asked.
"Brooke did. On the bus."
"She's such a liar. She's barely a beginner."
"Uh-oh," Billy gulped. "Courtney told me Brooke and Ashley went all the way to the top of the mountain."
"That does it," said Matt, punching his fist into his hand. "They were supposed to be back by noon and it's almost two. I don't care if that Kurt guy wants us to wait a little longer. I'm going out to find Ashley."
"And Brooke," added Billy, hurrying after Matt toward the door. They rounded the corner of the lodge. Because of the storm, the lifts were at a standstill. Matt and Billy ducked their heads against the blowing snow. "Matt, I hiked around here all morning," said Billy. "The intermediate trail comes out over there to the left, and the more advanced trails come out over at the right, almost by the supply shed."
"We might as well split up," Matt suggested. "You head up the intermediate and I'll go over to the advanced ones. That Brooke might just be nutty enough to have insisted they go down the tougher trails. Just to show off."
The boys split up and Matt headed for the base of the expert trail. The storm was blinding as he started up the first trail he came to. I'll strangle Brooke if anything has happened to Ashley, he seethed. From almost the moment he realized she was late getting back, Matt knew exactly how he felt about Ashley. He loved her. The thought that she might be hurt, cold, or lost, twisted like a knife in his heart.
"Ashley!" he called up the mountain, cupping his hands over his mouth like a megaphone. "Ashley! Where are you?"
He continued on, slogging through the thick, wet snow. This is hopeless, he thought after half an hour had passed. He hadn't gotten very far at all and Ashley could be anywhere. "Ashleyl Ashley!"
Just then, like a petite abominable snowman, a snow-caked Ashley appeared at the top of a snow ridge. "Ashley!" Matt cried, running to her as quickly as the incline would let him. Digging his gloves into the snow, he scrambled up the slope. "Are you okay?"
"Matt," she said softly. "I'm so cold. You wouldn't believe how cold I am."
He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. Then he held her hands in his and rubbed. "What happened to your skis?"
"I took them off. I thought I could move faster on foot. But I got lost." Tears came to her eyes. "When I realized that this trail didn't stop at the mid-station, I figured I knew about where it was and I could cut over through the woods, but I got all turned around and—" She put her hands to her face and began weeping.
"It's all right now," he said, putting his arms around her.
"No, it's not all right," she sobbed. "It's Brooke. She's still up there and she's hurt. She might be frozen to death by now. We have to get her help, Matt. Right away!"
Matt supported the shivering Ashley as they made their way to the lodge, where Billy was waiting. "I'm so glad you're okay, Ashley," he said, hurrying over. "Where's Brooke?" He went pale when they told him what had happened, and quickly ushered them into the lodge.
Inside, it was easy to find Kurt. He stood in the center of a group of kids, including Courtney, Jake, Arseman, Chris, and Dylan. Everyone was growing more and more anxious about the missing girls. "Ashley!" Courtney cried happily. "Is Brooke with you?"
"No, she's not," Ashley told Courtney. She explained to Kurt and his supervisor, a middle-aged man named Mr. Feld, what had happened. "It sounds like you were on the Devil's Hill slope," Kurt surmised. "Were you before or after the mid-station?"
"I thought we were before it, but now I'm not sure," Ashley told him.
"Did you mark the spot with a rock or anything?" asked Mr. Feld.
Ashley shook her head. "I didn't think to do that."
Mr. Feld turned to Kurt. "And we can't follow her tracks because they've been covered with snow by now. Send extra rescue teams up and down Devil's Hill," he instructed. "Dispatch a couple of teams on the other expert trails just in case we're mistaken."
"We can all go out and look," said Jake.
"That's right," Dylan agreed.
Mr. Feld addressed the group. "I don't want anyone to leave the lodge. My teams are trained to do this. There is a storm out there and I don't want anyone else getting lost. It's happened before—we find the missing person in ten minutes and then spend the next five hours looking for someone who's gone out to find missing person number one."
Kurt joined Ashley and the others. "One of you should help Ashley to the infirmary, over by the rental shop. Have the nurse check her for frostbite."
"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions before you go to the infirmary?" Billy asked.
"Go ahead," said Ashley.
"Were there any colored markers in the woods where you were?"
Ashley thought a moment. "I didn't notice any."
"Okay," Billy continued. "You said you went off to the right of the lift. Before Brooke had her accident, did you come to a place that was especially flat?"
After a moment's thought, Ashley shook her head no.
"That's good," said Billy. He pulled a bunch of maps from the inside pocket of his parka. "Yep, very good," he said, consulting one map. "That means we can eliminate this whole area," he said. "It has several flat parts."
"You're right," said Ashley. "I remember walking over some flat parts on the way down."
Billy got up and left the group. "Where are you going?" Matt called after him.
"To talk to Mr. Feld," Billy called back. "I have some ideas about where Brooke may be."
Billy found Mr. Feld and explained his theory. "Brooke must be in the upper quarter of the mountain," he said. "And she's in an unmarked part of the woods. Since there are marked trails running through here, here, and here, you can eliminate—" Billy looked up from his map and saw that Mr. Feld wasn't paying attention.
He was looking over at Kurt. "Were you able to find those extra walkie-talkies in the supply closet?" he asked.
"Yes," said Kurt, putting down a box full of the walkie-talkie units.
At that moment, Kristin came into the lodge. "The snowmobiles are ready and the paramedics have been called," she told Mr. Feld.
While Kurt and Mr. Feld talked to Kristin, Billy slipped a walkie-talkie radio into the pocket of his parka. Then he headed to his room for his snowshoes.


Chapter 14

BROOKE FELT AS if she had been sitting in the same spot for a hundred years. The good thing about being numb is that I can't feel much pain anymore, she laughed bitterly to herself. Brooke bit her lip to keep from crying. She didn't want to cry anymore. It made her face even colder.
Luckily, the trees sheltered Brooke from the falling snow. But in the clearing, she could see it falling like a thick white blanket. "They'll never find me in this storm," she muttered. "Or Ashley, either." With a shiver, she pictured Ashley frozen stiff, turning into a bizarre snow woman as snowflakes kept covering her.
Suddenly Brooke heard a rustling sound in the woods to her right. "Help," she called, surprised to hear that her voice had turned into a pathetic croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Help!" This time her voice was a little louder.
Then a thought hit her. Shouldn't there be engine noises and lights? Wouldn't a rescue team come on skis or snowmobiles? Exactly who or what was coming toward her?
"A bear!" she gasped, envisioning a giant, hungry grizzly.
Peering into the shadowy forest, made darker by the storm, she could even see a bear-like form coming nearer! This might be the end, Brooke thought, but she wasn't going to lay there and just let it happen. She picked up the ski that lay next to her in the snow and held it up in her left hand. Whatever the form was, it was definitely large and now it was struggling through some low bushes less than a yard away.
"Shooo!" Brooke cried, hurtling the ski in the direction of the figure.
She heard a satisfying clunk. And then a voice cried out . . . a decidedly human voice. "Hey! What's the big idea?"
Wait a minute, thought Brooke. That's . . .
"Billy?" she called.
"Yeah, it's me." He emerged from the underbrush rubbing his shoulder. "Who did you think it was?"
"A bear," Brooke admitted sheepishly.
"Well, it's me," he said, coming closer, but a little put out about being hit by the ski.
Brooke smiled so hard her cheeks hurt. "I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life."
Billy returned her smile. "Yeah? Me too. I mean I'm sure glad to see you." He took the walkie-talkie from his pocket. "Emergency interrupt. Come in. This is an emergency interrupt," he spoke into the unit.
"Who is this?" came an annoyed voice.
"That's Kurt," said Brooke. "I can tell from the accent."
Billy frowned. "Oh, yeah, Kurt." He went back to talking into the walkie-talkie. "This is Billy from the Hillside High ski trip. I found Brooke. Send the rescue squad to the upper half of Devil's Hill. I'll be standing out on the path. I'm wearing a red cap and a blue coat."
"Good work," said Kurt. "We'll be right there."
Billy signed off and turned to Brooke. "Are you okay?"
"I think my ankle is broken. It hurts like crazy. I don't know which is worse—my ankle or the cold," Brooke replied. "How did you find me?"
"Process of elimination," he explained. "There are all marked hiking trails to the left of you. And based on things Ashley said, I narrowed your location down to this little square here." He pulled out his map and showed her the part he'd marked. Then he lifted his leg and proudly displayed his snowshoes. "I made good time on these little beauties, though they didn't help on some of the really steep parts. They were a pain.
"I wish there was something I could do for your ankle," said Billy. "But I don't want to mess around with it and make it worse."
"No, don't touch it," Brooke agreed, wincing at the thought. "Billy, are you telling me you came all the way out here looking for me?"
"Sure," he said, blushing.
"Billy, I'll never forget this," Brooke said sincerely as the roar of snowmobiles began to be heard in the distance.
"I'd better get out there," said Billy, heading toward the trail. "Otherwise they won't be able to find you."
In about three minutes a man and woman carrying a stretcher entered the woods and expertly lifted Brooke onto it. Two more men covered Brooke with blankets. They tied the stretcher between the back of two snowmobiles and slowly drove to the top of the mountain.
"Hop on behind me," the driver of another snowmobile told Billy.
"Thanks," said Billy, getting on.
As wrung out as she was, Brooke still looked around, hoping to see Kurt. He wasn't there. "Is she all right?" asked Kristin, zooming toward them on a snowmobile.
"She's conscious," the driver of one snowmobile told Kristin. "I don't think she's into severe hypothermia, though she might have some frostbite. Definitely a broken ankle—maybe a rib, too. Get an ambulance ready to take her to the hospital."
"All right. I'm glad she's not too bad," said Kristin.
Not too bad? thought Brooke, wincing from the pain.
"Why are they taking her up instead of down?" Billy asked Kristin.
"They'll bring her down on the lift. It's gentler than going the whole way on the snowmobiles," she replied.
"Good thinking," muttered Brooke, who was once again aware of how much she hurt.
"Would you like me to take you to the base?" Kristin offered.
"No, thanks," said Billy. "I'd like to stay with Brooke."
"So long, then," said Kristin, making a wide turn on her snowmobile. "I'm going to radio for the ambulance."
Brooke looked over to where Billy rode alongside her. "You're a good friend, Billy," she said in a weak voice. She was suddenly tired. More tired than she'd ever felt in her life. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next thing Brooke knew she was on a cot and she was moving. Coming more fully awake, she realized she was in an ambulance. "It's not what you think," she heard a familiar voice.
Kurt! she thought happily. He was riding with her to the hospital. How sweet!
But then another familiar voice spoke. "I know it's stupid of me to be jealous," came Kristin's voice. "I mean, she is just a child. It's very funny, really—her pretending to be a chaperone."
Brooke shut her eyes again. This was mortifying! They were talking about her.
"I thought it was cute, so I played along," said Kurt, chuckling. "She never fooled me for a minute."
You liar! Brooke seethed. You believed I was older. Tell her the truth!
There was a quiet moment. Brooke had the awful feeling that they were kissing. "Oh, Kurt, you are so impossible," Kristin said fondly. "There's always some girl falling in love with you."
"It's my job to be nice to everyone," said Kurt. "Some girls just misunderstand. You know you're the only one I care for."
Misunderstand! Brooke exploded inwardly. That was no misunderstanding, pal! You led me on! Part of her wanted to sit up and confront him. But another part was too ashamed. She felt like such a fool.


Chapter 15

"ALL RIGHT, YOU guys," said Courtney. "The time has come."
"What time?" asked Ashley.
"Kiss and make up time."
"Oh, that time," Arseman groaned.
The three girls were in their room dressing for the Sunday night farewell dance. Ashley hadn't seen much of Arseman since the day before. She'd slept a lot, and this was really the first time she and Arseman had a chance to talk.
"I'm sorry," said Ashley to Arseman. "I let my jealousy take over."
"That's okay," said Arseman. "Matt is a great guy. I can sort of imagine how you felt. But we are just friends."
"I know that. Matt and I had a long talk while everyone was waiting to find out about Brooke."
"What did you and Matt decide?" Arseman asked.
"We decided not to decide. We're going to spend some time together and see how things go. We both really care about each other, so maybe we can make it work. We're going to try, but we're also taking it slow."
"Good plan," Arseman approved. "He's really nuts about you, you know."
Ashley smiled. "He thinks quite a lot of you, too. He told me so."
"Now it's hug time," Courtney insisted.
"Courtney, you're so demanding!" Ashley joked as she reached over and hugged Arseman, who hugged her back.
"Thank goodness. Now we can go enjoy this dance," said Courtney, heaving a sigh of relief. Leaving Ashley and Arseman to finish dressing, Courtney went down to the banquet room. On her way, she noticed Brooke sitting alone in the lobby looking out the window. Her leg was in a cast and propped up on a stool in front of her.
"How are you feeling?" Courtney asked, coming up alongside her.
"Never better," Brooke chirped sarcastically.
"That's nice," said Courtney sharply, turning to leave.
"Wait! I'm sorry," Brooke called her back. "You didn't deserve that. I'm just in a terrible mood."
"The dance will cheer you up," Courtney said.
Brooke snorted disdainfully and motioned to her leg. "I'm not going to the dance."
"You could sit and listen to the music and talk to everybody," Courtney insisted. "Dylan and Chris have even managed to work it so they're going to play a couple of songs with the band. It'll be fun. Besides, won't Kurt be expecting you? Arseman told me you and he were going to the dance together."
"Forget about Kurt," said Brooke. "He's just a two-timing snake. I found out that Kristin and Kurt are a couple. In the ambulance they thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. I heard their whole conversation. They're involved, all right. When Kristin asked him why he was spending so much time with me, he told her it was just his way of making a guest feel welcome."
"Do you think that was the truth?" Courtney questioned.
"Of course not!" Brooke replied. "He was definitely cheating on her. And then he was lying to her like crazy to worm his way out of it. Obviously he'd found out by then that I was a student. I guess that made him cool off with me."
"That's too bad, Brooke," Courtney sympathized.
"Oh, I don't even care about him," said Brooke unconvincingly. "I don't need to be involved with some kind of ski-slope Don Juan. Besides, it's so juvenile to judge someone because of their age."
"Tell me about it," Billy said as he came up behind them.
"Oops," Brooke said to Courtney. "I guess I stepped into that one."
"You sure did," said Billy. "So why don't you just give in and come to the dance with me?"
"Billy!" Brooke squirmed.
"It's just for tonight," Billy assured her. "I won't get the wrong idea."
Brooke rolled her eyes. "Okay," she agreed. "I mean, you did save my life." With Billy's assistance, Brooke got out of the chair and leaned on her crutches. Courtney had never been so proud of Billy as in the last twenty-four hours. Maybe there was hope for him, after all.
Courtney left Billy and Brooke to struggle along and went into the dance. The room was only half full, but the band had begun to play. "You look great!" said Jake, joining her.
"Thanks," she said. "Want to dance?"
"Sure." Courtney and Jake moved out onto the dance floor. Over her shoulder, Courtney saw Matt and Ashley dancing together. Arseman was off to the side practicing a song with Dylan and Chris. Billy and Brooke were sitting together, and Brooke was laughing. She actually looks like she's having a good time, thought Courtney, pleasantly surprised. Everything was working out okay.
At around nine o'clock, Courtney walked up to the microphone. "Excuse me, everyone," she said. "We have a few awards we'd like to present."
The students clustered near the stage as Courtney continued. "The 'Look, Mom, No Hands' Award to Arseman for most improved skier!" she read. "The Snowplow Award to Ashley for bringing more snow into the lodge on her clothing than ten snowplows could," Courtney read on.
After a few more awards Courtney quieted everyone down. "And finally, a special Snow Busters Award to Ashley, Billy, and Brooke for showing that Hillside High kids are made of tough stuff when the going gets rough."
Everyone applauded. Then Dylan walked up to the microphone.
"Now, for a special treat—though some of you might think it's more of a punishment. Arseman and I are going to sing with the band while Chris jams on guitar."
The kids applauded again as the band began to play. Brooke and Billy sat together admiring their awards. "Where's your handsome date, Brooke?" Lea asked as she and Erin approached them.
"Never mind," Brooke answered as she eyed them narrowly. "I believe that is my skirt, Erin. And Lea, that is my sweater. Take them off right now!"
"But Brooke," said Lea. "Aren't you worried that we'll squeal to Kurt?"
"Tell him anything you like," Brooke huffed.
"Uh-oh," Erin said to Lea. "Looks like our free ride just ended."
"Come on, Brooke," pleaded Lea. "Can't we just borrow these things for tonight?"
Brooke sighed dramatically. "I suppose so. But I expect you to earn them. For starters, my ankle is hurting. Lea, would you get me a chair to prop it on? And Erin, be a dear and run up to our room for a pillow."
"All right, Brooke," said Lea. "I guess it's the least we can do."
"Billy, would you please get me a soda?" Brooke asked.
"Sure thing," said Billy, heading off toward the refreshment bar.
Courtney watched all this and shook her head, smiling. The role of Queen Bee suited Brooke perfectly. Oh, well, Courtney thought with a grin. Now everyone would be able to say that this ski trip had turned out well. Even Brooke.