Page 12 of One Last Run

Pete held out the water bottle in an offering. “Want a sip?” she asked, her expression soft.

“I’m fine,” Danica said immediately, but then paused and took the water bottle. Her mouth was like sandpaper, her skin felt itchy, and her hands felt numb. The water was cool and soothing, and she gulped it down desperately, trying to convince herself her throat wasn’t closing up. Her rational understanding, informed by medicine and history, recognized the panic attack, yet the panic itself felt no less real at that moment.

“Hey,” Pete said, her voice gentle as she took off her own glove and reached for Danica’s bare hand. Pete’s hand was warm as it wrapped around Danica’s, and Danica’s panic overrode any consideration of what holding Pete’s hand meant. “Everything’sgoing to be fine. You’re not alone. We’re not that far off the ground.”

Danica rationally knew all of this, but she could still feel tears welling in her eyes. She looked away from Pete, not wanting her to see how upset she felt. Pete held her hand in silence, her skin was softer than Danica thought it would be, though she could feel a callous on Pete’s thumb where it rubbed the top of her own hand.

Danica let out a shaky breath, unzipping the top few inches of her coat. She watched skiers gliding down the run under them, envious of their freedom. Would they be up here for hours? What time was it? What if they were up here overnight? Would they freeze to death? She knew it was a long-shot but she wasn’t sure how she’d fare with something like survival-cannibalism.

Pete cleared her throat. “Want to tell me about Eddie?”

“I sure don’t,” Danica answered, biting her lip as she turned away.

“He sounds nice,” Pete’s voice held the same amount of excitement as if she were identifying a common bird in the pine trees.

“He is nice.” Danica was speaking through clenched teeth to keep her chin from quivering. He was nice. He used to be nice.

“Izzy said he’s quiet,” Pete added.

“Izzy met him once, at Maggie’s wedding.”

“He’s a dentist, right?”

“Yep.”

“An admirable profession.”

“Why are you like this?” Danica asked.

“Like what?” Pete shrugged.

Danica huffed in indignation. How many more questions about Eddie would she have to dodge if they were stuck here for hours? She studied the ground again, contemplating raising the safety bar so she could just launch herself out of the lift.The hospital provided her with good health insurance. She could work despite having two broken legs, couldn’t she? Or, worst case, she could take short-term disability and actually take a few relaxing weeks off without Pete fucking Pancott questioning her fake-current but really ex-fiancé.

“You know what really pissed me off about how you broke up with me?” Pete asked, squeezing Danica’s hand. Her voice was uncharacteristically solemn.

Danica nearly gave herself whiplash with how fast she spun to glare at Pete, forgetting how a sudden movement might make the chairlift rock. “Excuse me?” Pete had a mischievous look as she studied Danica’s face. “This is what you want to talk about right now?”

Pete shrugged again. Shrugged! “What better time than when you’re a hostage? You’ve been avoiding me, and I think we should talk about it. Just to clear the air.”

Danica wished looks could kill in that moment.

“It pissed me off you were so… final about it,” Pete said, sighing. “You just decided there was no future for us, and you wouldn’t be swayed.”

“Youbroke up withme,” Danica said slowly, taking a deep, shaky breath that only seemed to stoke the fires of her rage at Pete’s statement.

“I said we could see what happened after graduation,” Pete said, her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, because you were so noncommittal that you couldn’t evencommitto breaking up with me,” Danica snapped.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pete raised a brow in disbelief.

“You being noncommittal?” Danica asked, her irritation growing with every word out of Pete’s mouth.

Pete nodded, and Danica could still feel the warmth of her hand. She pulled her hand free, waving her hand in the airbetween them. “In the end you couldn’t even commit to calling me your girlfriend.” Danica’s voice was sharp, her chest aching with familiar hurt. The source and timing of Pete’s comments were perplexing. It had been fifteen years since they’d broken up, or rather, not broken up. Since they’d ended things between them.

“You didn’twantto be my girlfriend!” Pete said, her expression matching Danica’s irritation.

Where did you get that idea from?” Danica asked. “Why do you think I put up with your bullshit foryears?”

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