Chapter 4
Aspen
I ride down the steep mountain and do a couple of jumps here, a few flips there. Now, I’m about to flip off of the biggest ramp in the park. I’m in the zone. Nothing can break my focus. Nothing—except maybe a flash of lime green that shouldn't be there.
A girl. A beautiful one that’s naked, standing outside with her friend. It looks like they’re taking pictures. She’s moving around weirdly, like she’s trying to do some sort of dance.
Well, she’s not naked, per se. She’s in a bikini and fur coat, but she might as well be naked. Who would let her wear a bikini in the snow? Certainly not her father or boyfriend. I sure as hell wouldn’t. I don’t know why, but I inexplicably feel kind of possessive.
What the heck is that girl doing half-naked out here in these temperatures? What a dumb idea! She could get frostbite or something. It’s nearly winter! Well not just yet, it’s not negative or anything, but it’s still really cold. Certainly not warm enough to be in a swimsuit playing in the snow.
Women. They’ll do anything just for a freaking photo. Well, her photoshoot better not get in the way of my flip.
I remember the first time I attempted a flip, I broke my arm.
But since then, I can land them with my eyes closed.
Except for the Cab Quad Cork 1800 Mute Grab, the trick I’m still trying to land.
I’m going to attempt to do it now. I just always need a second before I try.
I breathe in, clear my mind, and then tip my board down.
My speed gets me down in no time and right back up to the top of the other ramp so I can flip. My board flips over and lands on the perfectly firm snow. Holy shit. I did it! I freaking landed the Cab Quad Cork 1800 Mute Grab!
“I did it. I actually did it.” I whisper to myself.
I’m about to internally cheer some more, but when I go to look ahead, I can’t see.
My goggles have fallen down my face, covering my eyes.
I don’t stop moving. I go to fix them, but everything is all out of whack, and I have to just take them off.
Once I do, all I see are long legs. I look up and see the girl I was just admiring from a distance.
Only now she’s coming closer by the second.
Before I can think, all I say is, “Watch out!”
I manage to stop right in front of her, knocking her off her feet and catching her in my arms.
She looks like she fell from heaven.
Her emerald-green eyes sting mine, and the impact of her fall takes my breath away. I forget what I’m doing, I forget who I am. All I know is that I want to know who this girl is and ask her if she fell from heaven.
“Hi,” she says, out of breath.
“Hi,” I say back.
“Sorry about that! I didn’t see anyone coming so I thought I could take a couple quick photos.”
She should be sorry. She could have gotten someone or herself killed! I want to tell her off so badly. How could she be so careless? I’m going to give her a piece of my mind. Well, that’s the plan.
Instead, I say with drool nearly coming out of my mouth, “It’s okay.”
Well, that confrontation went well.
She blushes like an innocent child. I stare at her, wondering where she’s been my whole life. I don’t even consider moving her until I hear…
“Uhhummmm,” her friend or sister or whoever it is clears her throat, causing both of us to realize where we are and how we look.
I take her hand to help her up. Once she stands, I register how tall she is. She must be nearly six feet tall, but I still tower over her. My fingers graze a long scar on the inside of her wrist. It’s old but deep, like something she’s tried to forget but never could.
“Thanks,” she says, cheeks rosy, “for, you know, catching me.”
She’s like a perfect little snowflake. She fell right out of the sky and into my arms.
Her beauty is unparalleled; her skin is fair, like a snowflake. Her hair is icy blonde, it’s almost white. I wonder if it’s natural.
Her beauty is not the kind found in paintings, not the kind measured in symmetry or lines. It is the whisper of her faint freckles scattered like constellations and in her lips which curve with the weight of unspoken stories.
“It was my pleasure, Snowflake.”
Of course I said that out loud. Real smooth. She probably thinks I’m weird now. There’s no use in asking her for her number now, I definitely just gave her the ick. I better get going.
But there’s still one thing I need to ask her that I’m itching to know.
“Why are you in a bikini?”
“Hot tubbing,” is all the answer she gives.
That seems valid enough, having a little photoshoot before makes sense when you’re as hot as her. Shit, I would too. Okay, I’m going to head out now before I say anything else embarrassing.
“Well, it was nice running into you,” I say to break the tension. “hopefully I’ll see you around.”
All she does is stare at me.
She takes a step back and says, “Uhh yeah, see you around.” Then she walks away.
Her friend follows her, but after giving me a strange stare down.
And just like that, the woman of my dreams leaves my life just as fast as she came into it.
I’ll probably never see her again. Not that she would want to be with a guy like me anyways.
I’m a snowboard junkie who eats, breathes, and sleeps my sport.
I’m pretty broke and live in a small apartment with my roommate.
I have nothing going for me except my looks and a girl like that probably expects it all: beauty, brains, and money.
Stuff I cannot give her. Oh well, it was fun to delude myself for a bit.
I snap myself out of this trance so I can finish my run, focusing on the soft powder ahead of me, making sure I don’t run into any more tourists in green bikinis. Once I do, I unstrap my boots from my board and walk to my car.
While I’m waiting for the car to warm, my mind can’t stop thinking about the girl in the green bikini. I need to see her again. I just don’t know how that will be possible. What if she needs lessons? I could be the one to teach and catch her if she falls again.
I get home in a jiffy, but feel like something’s missing. That beautiful blonde really did a number on me. It’s like her eyes contained a spell, and from the moment I looked upon them I was under it.
I walk through the door of my apartment in a daze. I remove my beanie and let my body fall into the cushions of my couch. I don’t know what it is but I feel different.
Good different.
Derek appears from his room.
“Oh no, what happened?” he asks.
“I met a girl,” I tell him.
“Dude,” he says laughing, “you’re fucked.”
Like I don’t already know.
I go to my room and get undressed; I wrap my towel around my waist and head over to the shower. I need to wake myself up from this dream.
It has to be a dream. Right?
I hop in and let the warm water hit me. It feels numbing at first, since I was just outside in the cold. I let the water do its thing. I’m too tall to be directly under the head, so I let it hit me on the back to warm me up.
I was hoping the piping hot water would distract me, but all it’s done is increase my cravings.
My mind is racing with thoughts of that precious snowflake.
Her smile, perfectly straight and dazzling white.
Her hair, the way it falls near her belly button.
Her long legs and round boobs. Yes, I saw her boobs.
It was hard not to notice when they were practically falling out of her bikini.
But I’m a gentleman, so I didn’t stare for too long.
But it was her eyes that captured me. Her eyes told a story. A story of hope, and I feel like I need to know how that story ends.
Thinking about this girl has me feeling inspired. Maybe I should write some poetry. I am such a hopeless romantic. I haven’t written a poem in a long time, but maybe now I have a new muse.
I love writing poetry about my memories. It’s like taking a picture but with words.
I used to write as a form of therapy. As a guy, it’s hard to channel my feelings and be okay when society says it’s wrong to express them.
I for one think that the standard for guys to suppress their feelings is bullshit, but still I’m not going to go around talking about mine if no one gives a shit.
So, instead of bottling it all up I use poetry as a release.
Although, I would never tell any of my friends that. They would just laugh.
I turn the water off and hop out into the steamy air. I towel-dry and head to my room looking for one of my old notebooks that I used to write my thoughts in.
I find one that’s been half-used and flip the pages until I find a blank one. Once I’m on the page and hovering over the white space with a pencil, the words just pour out of me.
Green eyes, blonde hair,
she left me speechless with just her stare
I want to drown in her gaze until I can barely breathe,
If only I can find her, before she leaves
Eyes that drown like the deep blue sea
Until we meet again
I tell myself that it’s a start. Writing poetry is hard and finding inspiration is even harder.
But lucky for me, I think I just found my new inspiration.
I put the notebook down on my night stand and lay in my bed flat on my back, staring at the plastic glow in the dark stars that stick to my ceiling illuminating a pale green.
I take a breath and reminisce about my day.
And for the first time in a while, I forgot about the drug that sits in my right coat pocket.