Page 51 of First Echo

As I headed out, I cast one last glance at Brooke's empty bed, fighting the irrational disappointment that she hadn't left a note, a sign, anything to acknowledge what had passed between us. The door clicked shut behind me with a finality that felt oddly like loss.

"So you're actually sticking with the snowboarding thing?" Julian asked, eyebrows raised as we stood in the lift line. "I thought that was just a one-time humiliation."

I adjusted my stance, the board feeling both foreign and familiar beneath my foot. "I like it," I said simply, offering no further explanation.

The truth was more complicated. Snowboarding connected me to Brooke in a way I wasn't ready to examine too closely—her patient instruction, her genuine smile when I linked my first successful turns, the freedom I'd glimpsed through her eyes. But it was also something I'd discovered for myself, something thatexisted outside the narrow confines of who Madeline Hayes was supposed to be.

Sam squeezed my hand, his smile warm with pride. "You're picking it up really quick. Natural talent."

"Or she had a good teacher," Victoria said with a pointed look, the edge in her voice unmistakable. She hadn't missed the time I'd spent with Brooke. Victoria never really missed anything.

I shrugged, aiming for casual indifference. "Beginner's luck."

The lift carried us up the mountain, the resort shrinking below as we ascended into clearer air. Sam's arm draped around my shoulders, a familiar weight that should have been comforting. Instead, I found myself wondering what it would feel like to ride the lift with Brooke again, to revisit that strange, charged conversation we'd shared.

Stop it, I told myself firmly.This isn't helping anything.

We spent the morning on the easier runs, my friends skiing while I cautiously snowboarded, testing the limits of my newfound skills. I fell more than once, earned Julian's relentless teasing, but there was a satisfaction in the effort, in the moments when everything clicked and I felt the rush of controlled speed.

Still, my eyes kept scanning the slopes, searching for a familiar figure with graceful turns and perfect form. Not intentionally—my gaze seemed to have developed a will of its own, constantly seeking what I told myself I didn't want to find.

"Looking for someone?" Victoria asked during a water break, her tone deceptively light.

I busied myself adjusting my bindings. "No. Why?"

"Just curious why you keep checking out every brunette that flies past us."

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I was grateful for the cold air that had already painted them pink. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just... observing other riders. Learning techniques."

Victoria's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Right. Techniques."

By early afternoon, a restlessness had settled beneath my skin, an itch I couldn't scratch. Sam suggested lunch at the lodge, and I agreed more out of habit than hunger. As we headed toward the base area, I overheard excited chatter about a student race happening soon.

"We should check it out," Julian said, already veering in that direction. "I bet I could smoke everyone."

Sam laughed, shaking his head. "Not with that hangover, you couldn't."

But Julian was already striding toward the registration area, his competitive nature fired up by the prospect of public victory. The rest of us followed, Victoria and Audrey exchanging eye rolls at Julian's predictable ego.

The course was a blue run, marked by flags and ending at an improvised finish line. A small crowd had gathered to watch—other students from our school, resort guests, a few amused locals. I scanned the participants, telling myself I was just curious, that the leap in my pulse when I spotted her was meaningless.

Brooke stood slightly apart from the other competitors, snowboard tucked under her arm, expression unreadable behind her goggles. She looked different somehow—more confident, more present in her own skin. Or maybe I was just seeing her differently now.

Beside her was a boy I vaguely recognized from school, with curly dark hair and an easy smile.

Is she friends with him? When did that happen?

The irrational surge of jealousy caught me off guard. I had no claim on Brooke, no right to care who she spent time with. I had Sam. I had my friends. I had the life I'd carefully cultivated over years.

So why did seeing her smile at someone else feel like losing something precious?

The race began with little ceremony, just the lift operator's whistle signaling the start. From my vantage point at the finish line, I could see the competitors surge forward, a chaotic mass at first, then spreading out as skill levels became apparent.

Julian was doing reasonably well, his natural athleticism compensating for a lack of technique. But Brooke—Brooke was something else entirely. She carved through the snow with a grace that made it look effortless, finding the fastest line down the mountain as if drawn by invisible forces. Even those who knew nothing about snowboarding could see she was in a different league.

"She's incredible," Sam murmured beside me, genuine admiration in his voice.

"Yeah," I agreed softly, unable to tear my eyes away. "She is."

---