Page 24 of The Season
Lily gives a groan of protest, her snow-covered form taking on more definition as she rolls over, uncoiling her body from the tangle she’s ended up in. By the time I reach her, she’s managed to make it to her hands and knees in the snow.
“I’m fine,” I hear her gasp, the sound raspy and raw. “Just… just got the wind knocked out of me.”
Oh, thank fuck.I tug down my mask, letting out a sigh of relief that clouds the icy air in front of me.
“Here,” I say, my voice almost as breathless as hers from running up the slope. “Easy. Let me help you up.” I’m about to grab under her shoulders, to haul her to her knees, but she shakes her head, lifting one bare hand to stop me.
“I got it, Coach,” she rasps, and then she’s tucking her knees to her chest, her board still strapped to her feet as she rolls to her back in a move that has me recalling just how flexible she was doing yoga in the living room this morning.
“See, I’m fine.” She sits up and flashes me a smile, but instead of sending my heart soaring, the sight makes my vision nearly whiteout with rage.
Her nose is bleeding, her lower lip split, her teeth red with blood. Her goggles are cracked down the middle, and already I can see the angry red lines above her cheekbones from where they’ve taken the impact.
“Fuck,” I breathe, dropping to my knees in the snow in front of her. I grip the edge of her board to steady myself, to keep from gripping her shoulders and pulling her to me instead.
Which is a completely inappropriate thought to have about a student.
I dare a glance to where Akiva is finally making his way to his feet, Matty still looming menacingly over him. Akiva is completely uninjured—barely has to brush snow off his new designer snowboard coat.
And Lily.Oh, Lily…
I turn back to her in time to see her swiping the blood from her face with the back of her hand, her smile falling at the sight of her own blood.
“Oh,” she murmurs, then reaches up to lift up her cracked goggles and rest them on her helmet. “Well. That’s gross.” She blinks dazedly at her gloveless hand, now smeared in blood, then at her gloved one. “Guess I lost my glove somewhere.”
She glances back over her shoulder, as if expecting to see it somewhere nearby, but it’s probably long gone, swallowed up in the feet of fresh powder farther up the slope.
“Shit. Sorry dude.” Akiva gives a forced chuckle, pulling to a slow, careful stop a few meters away and looking between me and Lily warily. “I-I don’t know what happened…”
“What happened is you were being a fucking idiot,” I snap, my fingers tightening on the edge of Lily’s board. “If you weren’t one of my students, I’d clip your pass right now.”
I take a deep, steadying breath, and attempt to tamp down the rage, but it’s too late. I can feel it growing, like an avalanche, getting deadlier and deadlier as it travels down the mountainside.
Akiva rears back, the movement causing him to slide downhill and away from us. “It… it was an accident.”
I grit my teeth, fixing him with a glare as I fight back all the words threatening to spill out.Accidents are what get people killed. Accidents are what end careers. Accidents are what cause people to break their spine, spend six months in rehab, getting told how lucky they are to be able to ride as they watch their dreams crumble before their eyes.
“You were reckless,” I say finally, my tone flat. “You lost control.”
“Coach, you still need me to get ski patrol?” Matty asks, his voice wavering with uncertainty as he comes to a stop behind Lily. Not close enough to touch her, because he’s probably scared of running into her with his board. But still too close for my liking.
Lily shakes her head vehemently, turning to give Matty a pleading look over one shoulder. His eyes widen almost comically at the sight of her face, his mouth dropping open.
“Do not call ski patrol,” Lily orders, sounding surprisingly authoritative for someone whose face looks like it’s just taken a bashing. “I swear to god, Matty…”
He holds up both mittened hands, shaking his head, then gives me a panicked look. I give him a curt nod in return, then reach out, one hand moving from the edge of Lily’s board to grip her knee.
“Hey,” I say, my voice gentle, but firm. “Look at me.”
She turns, hazel eyes glinting like amber in the morning sunlight, swollen, blood-smeared lips curving into a frown.
“I’ll say whether we’re calling ski patrol,” I tell her, ignoring her obvious displeasure at the idea. Because if I have to strap her onto a banana boat myself, I will, her pride be damned. “You could have a concussion. You could have a minor spinal injury.” I count off the possible calamities on my gloved fingers. “You could have broken or dislocated something.” Although the likelihood of that is low, given the depth of the powder. “We don’t even know if you can ride to the bottom of this slope, let alone make it down the mountain.”
Lily huffs, her shoulders dropping resignedly. I’m about to tell her to try getting up, but Akiva interrupts me.
“So what are the rest of us supposed to do, huh Coach?” he asks impatiently. “Do we just sit around all day because Lily got hurt?” He waves one arm to where the rest of the class stands at the base of Jupiter lift, waiting. “We need to be training for the exam. It’s less than two weeks away. That’s your job, isn’t it?”
I hear the accusation in his voice, the unspoken threat alongside the self-entitled whinging tone. He’s paying for this training—or, more likely, his parents are—and he wants to get his money’s worth.
