Chapter 17
Still Searching for You in Every Sunrise
Knox
“That was crap, Knox.” My trainer’s face is hard, his lips a thin line.
Cameron Pierce is one of the best coaches in snowboarding, and with his gray eyes, dark hair, and tanned skin, he’s most likely the most sought-after bachelor in the world of sports.
For years he won the X Games and took home the gold a bunch of times from the Olympics.
As far as training is concerned, he is strict and critical, but normally pretty happy with my performance. Not today.
He comes stomping over to me through the snow as I’m getting out of my bindings following that miserable ride. “How hungover are you, man? That was your worst performance in weeks! You want to show up at the X Games with that crap and disgrace yourself in front of the whole world?”
I can feel the sweat running down my neck and disappearing in the collar of my ski jacket.
Frustrated, I shove my goggles over my helmet and pull my board after me.
It’s one of the most expensive boards on the market, sponsored by Rockstar Energy, and yet I don’t give a shit if I bang it up. “Sorry. Heavy party yesterday.”
That’s a lie. I hardly know a thing about the party because Paisley was there.
It’s got a lot more to do with her going back to Wyatt’s frigging comment this morning.
I could still kick his ass for that one.
But, sadly, I know him too well. If he hadn’t been so fucked up, he never would have mentioned it.
Cameron snorts and digs his snow boot into the ground, which means he’s really pissed. “Heavy party? Knox, goddamn it, do you take your success seriously at all?”
Truthfully? No. Success interests my dad, not me.
If it were up to me, I’d throw away all this fame to study psychology and only ride this board here when I wanted to.
But, at this point, it hasn’t been up to me for a long time.
This here is Dad’s dream. And after Mom died, it’s the only dream he still has.
I sigh, stick my board into the snow, and squint against the sun in order to be able to look into Cameron’s face. “Sorry, Cam. You know what I can do. This won’t happen again.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t care how many parties you throw or how drunk you get, Knox. What I am interested in is what you do on your board. And what you just did was a goddamn catastrophe. That’s enough for today. Just make sure you bring what I’m used to seeing from you tomorrow.”
“Got it.”
Cam puffs up his cheeks, shakes his head again, then lets the air back out. “I know what kind of day today is, Knox. You haven’t lost anything yet. Go and let the pain happen. You’re strong. You know who you are.” He smiles. “Sometimes these kinds of days even allow you to forget things a bit.”
My breath is shaky. There’s a lump in my throat that’s growing bigger and making it tough to breathe. I hadn’t realized Cam knew what today meant.
I nod. “Thanks.”
Cameron puts his hand on my shoulder and pulls me into a brief but strong embrace before turning around and walking off the slope.
For a while, I stand there motionless, breathing the cold air into my lungs, the smell of the snow.
I look toward the sun rising over the tallest range and close my eyes.
The warm rays grace my cheeks, give me a feeling of security and comfort.
Only when they’ve melted the lump in my throat do I turn and make my way to the gondolas.
The whole way there I feel fuzzy, can hardly get my thoughts together, I keep seeing alternating images of my mother and Paisley.
I try to shake them off a few times, but it doesn’t work.
Paisley is so similar to my mother. Her fiery personality, the blond hair and blue eyes, the iron will, and, above all, ambition as far as skating is concerned.
I hate the fact that I associate her with Mom, because that makes me think about her constantly, and that hurts, goddamn it.
A stinging sensation right in my heart, one that leaves me with a fierce craving.
The gondola jerks to a stop and the doors open. Lost in my thoughts, I get out and walk a bit. I am so caught up inside myself that I don’t even notice Harper coming toward me. I only become aware of her when she’s right in front of me, placing her hands on my hips and snuggling into me.
Her showing up doesn’t exactly make me feel any better. The opposite, in fact. Every time I remember that I opened myself up to a figure skater—even if just for one night—I hear her again. The screams.
I try to get loose and take a step back, but Harper is holding on tight. Only once I pry her hands off my hips do I succeed in freeing myself from her climbing-plant-like grip.
“Hey.” Harper is beaming, she tucks her red hair behind an ear and bats her fake eyelashes so showily, I’m afraid they’ll fall off. “Nice to see you. I…umm…called you.”
“Yeeeah…” In fact, she didn’t just call me; she subjected me to a total onslaught of calls. I know I should have told her that what happened between us was a one-time thing. No big deal. But to be honest, I was hoping she’d understand when I didn’t respond.
I put on an apologetic smile and scratch my neck. “Harper…between the two of us… I’m sorry. Really. But it’s not going to turn into anything.”
Ouch. I can see how badly my words have stung her. Her face looks like I’ve slapped her. “You used me,” she says. I can tell how hard it is for her to put on a cool tone in order to look like she’s got herself under control. “For sex.”
“No, look…” I pause because, essentially, she’s right.
Even if I don’t want to see myself as that kind of guy, I have to admit that that’s exactly what I did.
And it wasn’t even important to me. I could have done without the sex.
But I was bombed, and she was there, and then…
Well, one thing led to another. In the meantime, I don’t even know how the night played out.
I only know that we got together, but how it was? No idea. My God, I’m a real shit.
“Yeah. I did. I’m sorry, Harper.”
The skin around her eyes turns red. It’s clear that she’s trying really hard to make sure I don’t see her cry.
She turns away for a moment and looks in the other direction, most likely to get herself together before looking at me again.
She swallows. “And I thought I saw something in you. I really thought you were more than what women say about you. Clearly, I was wrong. But let me make one thing clear, Knox.” She takes a step forward.
Her voice has grown dark. “I’m going to go now.
You for me are history. But not because you won and because you hurt me.
No. Because your stupid ass isn’t worth a single second more of my time. ”
In one last graceful gesture, she raises her chin, turns, and stomps off.
I watch her go. It’s not true, I do care about her feelings.
We used to be a little crew. Aria, Wyatt, Gwen, Harper, and I.
We spent half our lives together before all that shit between Aria and Wyatt went down.
I know that Harper’s got power. Somewhere beneath her hard shell, there’s a soft core.
But unfortunately, I am just as sure that I’m not the man who’s supposed to discover it.
The one it’s meant for. Maybe she wanted me to be but…
Shit, I’m an asshole. Totally broken. I can’t even be in the presence of an ice-skater without getting this claustrophobic feeling that’s ready to take me off to where everything’s dark.
Where the screams are the loudest. Where naked fear overcomes me, makes my hair stand on end, and makes me feel like I’m a little kid again.
Helpless and panicky in a moment of my life that broke me.
My feet are moving without me being aware of where they’re taking me.
I put my board, helmet, and sunglasses into the trunk of my car, then I walk off downtown.
My limbs feel numb as I shuffle through the snowy streets and come to a cast-iron door.
Two stone ravens flank the fence, their watchful eyes trained on the horizon.
My heart is beating into my throat as I put a hand on the ornate handle and step into the cemetery.
Every time I feel the frozen ground beneath my feet here, I get the feeling that countless lost souls are drifting around me and whispering in my ear that I shouldn’t be here, that I don’t belong here.
I’ve never liked cemeteries. They freak me out.
Still, I walk on, step by step, making my way through the snowy lanes where one headstone follows another. In the distance an owl cries.
Suddenly I stop. Cold air fills my lungs as I gasp for breath. Even after so many years, it’s really hard for me to come here. It’s painful. Every time it’s like my heart is being torn into tiny pieces, pieces I’ll never be able to reassemble.
My sight is blurry with tears as I go onto my knees and stretch out my hand to wipe the dancing snow off the gravestone.
It’s hard to swallow when my mother’s name becomes visible.
Eliza Winterbottom. I pause a second at the z, whose lower line has become slightly faded.
“I miss you, Mom.” My voice is trembling.
I’m ashamed I didn’t even bring flowers. “I miss you so much.”
Nothing but silence. I’d love an answer.
An answer I know will never come. I slowly sink onto the ground.
“She’s like you, Mom,” I whisper. “She’s like you, and that makes me nuts.
Every time I expect to feel bad in her presence, that…
that I’ll hear the screams, but…I never do.
I want to stay away from her but it’s so hard.
” I gasp for breath. Tears are running down my cheeks.
I wipe my gloves across my face and shake my head.
Snow trickles from my hair. For a long time, I’m quiet, my eyes trained on my mother’s name.
“Already another year. December sixteenth. Ten years today,” I mumble at some point, so quietly that I can hardly understand myself. “Another year, and I still feel guilty. I’m so sorry, Mom. I am so sorry that you had to die because of me.”