Page 12 of The Season
It'll take me less than five minutes to move everything I own down the hall.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, lip curling at the name on the screen, then toss the offending device onto my sorry excuse for a bed.
Maman.
Of courseshewould call me now. When I’m at my lowest. When I’m doubting the momentary burst of bravado that had me packing my bags and leaving everything behind to follow my dreams.
A couple weeks ago, it had seemed exhilarating. I’d donated every single law textbook I owned and left Oxford, along with its tourist-ridden streets and the half-finished law degree that I’d never wanted in the first place. I’d dusted off the ski instructor certificate that I’d convinced my parents to let me sit for when I was eighteen—for the purpose of making mycurriculum vitaelook more interesting, of course—and booked a flight to the United States.
To Park City, Utah.
Now, I’m cut off from the trust fund that I’ve depended on my entire life, working as a glorified babysitter, and crammed into an apartment with what will soon be six other people.
To say I’m having doubts about my life choices would be an understatement.
Chapter4
Lily
“I’m sorry—what?”
Matty rubs at the back of his neck, his foot moving to an almost frantic rhythm where it holds up his snowboard, causing the whole chairlift to swing.
“There are two other guys moving in today,” he repeats, as if his proclamation will be less surprising the second time around.
It’s not.
I stare at him in disbelief, grateful for the ski goggles and face mask hiding exactly how irritated I am.Two more guys. The condo was already going to be crowded with four guys. Now, there are six?
Not to mention, two of them are complete strangers. I mean, it’s not like I exactly know Matty, Eddie, Seth, and… what was that other guy’s name? Ant? Anthony? But at least I’vemetthem.
“That’s seven people in a three-bedroom place,” I dutifully point out, just in case he hasn’t done the math. “Seven people for one bathroom.”
“Uh, yah…” he worries his chapped, lower lip with his teeth, then looks out over the tops of the snow-laden pines. I can’t help but follow his gaze, at the snow glistening like millions of crystals, stark against the rich browns and blue-greens of the forest. At the mountain range stretching out beyond that, snow-capped peaks laughing like a holiday postcard against a crisp blue sky.
“... so I don’t think you’ll be able to have your own room.” His legs are swinging wildly now, like maybe he’s hoping he can propel himself off the chairlift and away from this awkward situation. “I talked to the guys and… well, they said you could share with Tom. One of the new guys.”
I grit my teeth, and take a deep breath behind my ski mask. Glad they reached that conclusion. Just throw Lily in with the new guy she’s never met before. What could possibly go wrong?
“Okay…” I say carefully, trying my best to keep my voice even. “And what about the other guy?”
“He’ll… uh, he’ll share with Eddie.” Matty’s voice rises in pitch, and I narrow my eyes at him from behind my goggles.
“Have you met Tom?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer. “Or this other guy—what’s his name?”
Matty coughs out a name that’s completely unintelligible, his face going red where it’s visible beneath his goggles.
“What?”
“Liam.” The name comes out in a breathless croak. “Liam Sutherland.”
I stare at Matty for a long moment before realization dawns, horror icing my already cold limbs. “You… you meanCoachLiam?”
Matty nods wordlessly, then flicks up his goggles to give me an apologetic look. It’s the sort of wide-eyed look that should only be endearing on puppies or cartoon characters. Somehow, he pulls it off, because I feel an annoying twinge of sympathy in my chest.
“Shoot, Lily, I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly. “I really am. I swear I had no idea when you looked at the place yesterday.” He holds two mittened hands out in apology. “I totally understand if you don’t want to stay with us anymore.”
His gaze drops to his lap just as the chair lurches, the distinctive crunching of wheels against the cable overhead telling us we’re nearly at the top. I adjust my position in my seat, kicking the edge of my board absently with my free boot before lining myself up with the approaching ramp.
