Page 46 of First Echo

Victoria rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yeah, your psycho roommate really got him good. He's going to have a nasty bruise."

"She's not psycho," I said automatically, the words out before I could stop them.

Three pairs of eyes fixed on me with varying degrees of surprise.

"She punched your brother in the face," Victoria said slowly, as if I might have forgotten this crucial detail. "Unprovoked."

"It wasn't unprovoked," I countered, feeling a strange defensiveness rise inside me. "Julian was being... Julian. You know how he gets."

"Still," Audrey chimed in, "who just hauls off and hits someone like that? She must have some serious anger issues."

"Or she's just a badass," Sophie said with a small laugh. "I mean, I'm not saying it's right to hit people, but you have to admit it took guts. Julian's like twice her size, and she didn't even hesitate." She looked at me with undisguised curiosity. "What's she like as a roommate? Is she always that intense?"

I thought about Brooke—quiet Brooke reading her book by the window, determined Brooke carving down the mountain, vulnerable Brooke talking about her mother, confident Brooke standing half-dressed in our room.

"She's... complicated," I said finally.

Victoria linked her arm through mine, the warmth of her jacket a welcome barrier against the cold. "Well, come inside before you turn into an icicle. You can tell us all about your complicated roommate situation somewhere we're not freezing to death."

I let them lead me back into the resort, grateful for the distraction from my churning thoughts. We made our way to the lounge area near the main fireplace, which was nearly deserted at this late hour. Just a few guests lingering over nightcaps, soft music playing in the background, the fire crackling in the massive stone hearth.

We settled into a cluster of plush armchairs, the heat from the fire slowly seeping into my chilled limbs. My friends fell into easy conversation, dissecting the day's events, who said what to whom, who was seen with who. The normal rhythms of our friendship, the backdrop to my life for as long as I could remember.

"Julian was so embarrassed," Audrey was saying, barely containing her amusement. "A girl half his size, decking him in front of everyone! Did you see his face?"

"To be fair, she caught him completely off guard," Victoria added.

My mind flashed again to Brooke's toned physique, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks. I hoped they'd attribute it to the fire.

"Why did she hit him anyway?" Sophie asked, turning to me. "Do you know?"

I hesitated. The truth was complicated—Brooke had hit Julian because he'd mocked her dead mother, because he'd been cruel in a way that crossed every line. But saying that would mean explaining about Brooke's mother, about my growing understanding of Brooke's isolation, about things thatfelt private somehow, sacred even. Things shared between us in moments of rare honesty.

"Julian said something he shouldn't have," I said finally, keeping it vague. "He deserved it, trust me."

The conversation moved on, but my thoughts remained tangled, a knot I couldn't unravel. I kept seeing Brooke's face when I'd walked back into our room—the surprise, then that flash of confidence, challenging me with those dark eyes that seemed to see too much.

"Okay, earth to Madeline," Victoria said, waving a hand in front of my face. "You've been weird all night. What's going on with you?"

I blinked, pulled back to the present moment. All three were staring at me with varying degrees of concern and curiosity. I opened my mouth to brush it off, but what came out instead surprised even me.

"Okay, just wondering. If you were... I don't know, confused about your feelings for someone, like, someone you didn't expect to ever feel anything for—what would that mean?"

The words hung in the air for a moment, before Victoria's eyes widened with delight. "Wait. Oh my god—are you into another guy?"

I froze, caught in the trap of my own making. Another guy. Of course that's where their minds would go. Where else would they go?

I paused, my heart hammering in my throat. Then I forced a little smirk and said, "Sure. Something like that."

Part of me wanted to laugh at the absurdity. If they only knew it wasn't another guy at all—it was a girl. What would they say then? Victoria would probably recoil in horror. Audrey would stare at me like I'd grown a second head. Even Sophie, the kindest of the three, would be shocked. My careful social standing, built over years, could collapse in seconds.

That seemed to be all the confirmation they needed. Sophie squealed, leaning forward eagerly. "Who is it? Someone from school? Someone here at the resort?"

"A ski instructor?" Audrey suggested, eyebrows waggling suggestively. "That tall one with the man bun was totally checking you out."

I let their theories wash over me, nodding or shaking my head noncommittally, offering neither confirmation nor denial. But inside, those words kept echoing:Something like that. Something like that.

Because it wasn't a guy. It wasn't anyone they'd guess. It was Brooke—complicated, frustrating, captivating Brooke who somehow managed to make me feel more like myself in her presence than I did with anyone else.

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