Chapter 14 Aspen
Aspen
After being permanently scarred by something I hope to never see again—Derek’s dick—I take Genevieve down to the resort. Our mission: grab boots, turn on the ski lifts, and get up on the mountain. Quiet, quick, and under the radar.
I toy with the keys and slip the right one into the lock, my fingers working like I’m dialing in the perfect carve on fresh powder.
We’re not supposed to be here. At least not for snowboarding, but an employee key gives me some leeway.
As long as I don’t leave any tracks, I’m in the clear.
But the second someone catches us on the lifts? That’s game over.
“We’re in,” I tell her, pretending like we’re on some sort of secret mission. I mean I guess we are, but only to get snow boots.
“You sure it’s okay that we’re here?” Genevieve asks.
“Trust me, they won’t even notice.” I don’t want her to think we are doing anything wrong and to hate me because of it. I want us to have a nice night, anxiety free. So I have to tell her a tiny white lie.
Although I don’t sense that Genevieve is the type of girl to care about getting in a little bit of trouble.
I turn the light on to the rental room and head to the back. My brother works here so I’m not surprised to find everything a complete and total mess. He’s the least organized person I know. We are so opposite in that department.
“What size are you?” I ask her.
“Size 10,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping like she's trying to avoid a spill on a tough run. This isn’t the confident Genevieve I know. I’d offer her something profound, but instead, I let the words flow like a quick trick.
“That’s hot.”
Her grin is instant. Mischievous looking.
I look for both of our shoe sizes and once I do, I place them on the counter so we can put them on. Then I leave our shoes in the cubby behind the counter.
We both tighten our shoes, making sure they’re comfortable to ride in and head over to the ski lifts.
I open up the panel room where I used to work just three days ago and turn the lifts on.
Once I flip the switch, the metal chairs begin to slowly swing and rotate around.
I direct Genevieve where to stand and then I join her so we can share a seat together.
She’s done this before, but I still like giving her instruction.
Once we’re seated comfortably and I’ve brought the protective bar over us to secure us in, I say, “Keep your left foot strapped and bring the board over your right—kind of like balancing yourself on a rail. Your right foot should be the anchor, holding you steady while the board stays in place.”
“Oh yeah, this is much better,” she says after switching her footing.
The view out here at night is unlike anything else. There's a calming, almost delicate beauty to it, as if the darkness itself is soothing the world around us.
The resort doesn’t have enough employees currently to be supervising people while night riding. Otherwise, they would. Night riding is one of my favorite pastimes. It’s where I can clear my mind completely and just focus on the action I’m doing.
Nothing else.
I’m hoping Genevieve will like it as much as I do.
The cool, crisp breeze sweeps through her hair, sending it dancing in the wind. The sweet scent of coconuts fills the air, confirming what I’ve always known—Genevieve truly does smell like coconuts.
“You ready for what’s going to be one of the best rides of your life?”
“What makes this ride special?”
“Well, for one you’re with me,” I say, giving her a wink. “But also because it’s night time. Most resorts don’t let you ride at night, like this one. But riding at night is one of the best times to do so. It’s so freeing,” I tell her.
“Then yes, I’m ready!”
I catch her cue and guide her off the lift as it reaches the top. To my surprise, she nails the mini jump, a feat most people struggle with, and effortlessly follows me toward the mountain’s path.
I bend over and strap her in for her and I do the same for myself. Once I get up she says, “Thank you.”
“No problem, Snowflake. Now let’s ride!” I say jumping my board to face the drop off.
She follows me slowly now that she doesn’t have any momentum, so I reach towards her and grab her hand so she can use my force to get a head start.
I push her off and she is doing it until she isn’t.
She fell. She’s okay, but hopefully this won’t be the whole night so she can at least enjoy herself. I sort of forgot she was a beginner.
“That’s alright!” I tell her. “Just keep your knees bent, stay on your heels and hold my hand,” I tell her.
I help her up off the ground and we begin again.
“Don’t let go of my hand,” I tell her.
Then we’re off.
We make it half way down the mountain before Genevieve falls again. She did much better! She just needs to keep a hold of my hand. She gets right back up like a champ and makes it the other half of the way down.
Around again we get off the lift and do the same thing. This time, once we’re half way down Genevieve says, “I’m doing it! I’m doing it!”
“Hell yeah you are, Snowflake! Atta girl!” I shout.
But I get a little too caught up in her smile, like trying to focus on the horizon while carving a sick line—one moment too long and boom.
I slip. But Genevieve, she doesn’t break form—she holds my hand tight.
So down we both go, tangled like a messy jump landing.
She lets out a loud laugh. A laugh I’ve never heard from her before. This one sounds like it’s coming from deep within. She’s practically in tears. Can I make the sound of her laugh my ringtone?
“I can’t believe we both slipped!” She says through laughter.
Her laughter is contagious because I’m laughing too.
“It’s okay! Didn’t hurt one bit,” I admit. It didn’t, I’m used to it. “Are you okay though?”
“I’m great!”
Neither of us are quick to get up, so instead we just stay down where we are with all limbs spread out like a starfish. I feel like a kid again. I take a look at the sky and see the stars shining their beautiful light.
I try to quiz myself over the constellations like I normally do.
I see Orion and his belt. I see Aquarius and Taurus.
I squint to see what else I see when Genevieve says, “Is that Cassiopeia?” With her hand pointing upwards.
Then she lifts up her sweater and is bending her head down all funny to compare her freckles to the sky.
I try to see which direction she was pointing to. Once I make the connection, I see exactly what she saw, Cassiopeia.
“Yes, that is Cassiopeia, or what I now call, Genevieve,” I tell her.
I think she blushes. I don’t know because I don’t look to my side. My head remains facing up, but I think I hear her blush a little.
“What’s her story? Doesn’t each constellation have a story on how they became their form?” She asks with curiosity.
Now I blush. I love being able to teach her things I’m passionate about. Snowboarding, now astrology.
“Yes, each constellation has a story. Cassiopeia’s story is one of my favorites.
” I begin. “She was a queen in Greek mythology and she boasted about her beauty. She boasted that she was more beautiful than anyone. Poseidon didn’t like this, so he sent a sea monster to terrorize her kingdom.
To save her people, Cassiopeia’s daughter, Andromeda, was chained to a rock as a sacrifice to the monster.
But a hero, I forget his name, came to the rescue and defeated the monster, saving Cassiopeia’s daughter.
As punishment for her arrogance, the Gods placed Cassiopeia in the sky where she’s often depicted as a queen sitting on her throne, upside down, because she was humiliated for her vanity.
So, she’s a reminder to keep our pride in check and that beauty isn’t everything. ” I explain.
I’m expecting Genevieve to respond, but she just remains quiet staring at the silent sky.
“Genevieve. You okay?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I’m just letting the story sink in,” she says.
Sink in? I guess I never thought of the story so deeply. I’m about to say something when she beats me to it.
“I guess I can relate to Cassiopeia more than my freckles,” she starts. “I’ve always gotten ahead in life because of my looks and my dad too I guess. You might know him,” she says. “David Brown?”
“Holy shit. Your dad is from Crash and Burn? I can’t believe James Haven is your dad,” I say. But then I see the way her face falls and regret even recognizing them.
“Yeah, that movie has followed me my whole life. I wish people knew me as something else sometimes. But to be honest, I use it to my advantage a lot,” she says.
“It’s funny. I hate that movie more than anything because without it, I could be treated normally.
But also without it, I wouldn’t have anything I have today. ”
“Wow,” I tell her. “That’s tough.”
“Yeah. Is it weird to hate and love the same thing at the same time?” She asks me.
“No, not at all! Sometimes the toughest things in life are the best things in life,” I tell her.
“Yeah. You’re right,” she says.
“And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel worse for practically fangirling over your dad,” I say.
She giggles. “It’s okay, I’m used to it.
I just want someone to like me for me and not my dad’s fame or my body,” she says.
Little does she know I do. I like her for her.
For her beautiful mind. Nothing is hotter than a girl who has something interesting to say.
Maybe that’s what Genevieve needs to hear, that more people like her for her.
At this point, we are still flat on our backs and facing the sky. I turn my head to face her so she knows I’m serious when I say this.
“I like you,” I tell her.
She giggles again. “I like you too,” she says.
“Yeah, but I like you for more than your father’s fame or for your beautiful body.
I didn’t even know he was your dad until now.
I like you for you Genevieve. For your mind.
For what’s inside of you. You radiate intellect, you just like to hide it.
But I already know you are the smartest girl in any room you go in.
You’re definitely smarter than me. So why the front? ” I ask her.
She’s speechless. I don’t think anyone’s ever said anything like this to her before. Good, I can be the first.
“It’s not a front, necessarily. It’s more like taking the easy way. It’s easy to let people just think they’re right. Pretty face, dumb mind. You know. But if I dare switch up persona’s on them, they would be confused,” she says.
“Makes sense, but still, that’s not a good enough excuse. So why the front?” I ask.
I know there’s something she’s not telling me.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m scared to let people know the real me; because once they do, I feel like they can just hurt me even more,” she says.
That’s the answer I was looking for, the real her. But her answer is relatable. Everyone is scared of opening up and getting hurt, but I guess that’s the beauty of life.
“I’m sorry, Genevieve. If you let me in—really let me in—I swear I won’t hurt you.”
And I mean it.
Her mind, her heart... they’re more precious than any powder run I’ve ever had.
“My life isn’t like what it seems. My parents are divorced. My mom spends most of her time working and buying my love and my dad’s a drug addict and has a new girlfriend every week. It’s not as glamorous as it seems,” she says.
I feel like I got punched in the gut. I don’t want Genevieve to hate me for doing coke. I need to find a way to stop. If not for me, then for Genevieve.
“I’m sorry Genevieve, I completely understand how you feel, my dad also had an addiction problem,” I tell her honestly and the moment I say it, I realize I’m no better than my dad.
She is about to reply when, in an instant, I hear someone interrupt my thoughts.
“Hey! You two! You’re not supposed to be here!” Shit! I think it’s the security guard they call in for emergencies.
“Wait, I thought you said we could be here?” Genevieve asks me.
“Yeah, I lied. I just wanted the mountain to ourselves, and didn’t want you to hate me for doing this,” I admit.
“Hate you?! This makes me like you even more! I love adventures!”
I knew it. I stare at her and wonder where this girl has been my whole life.
“Perfect! Because our next adventure is boarding away from this security guard. Take my hand and try not to fall,” I tell her.
We both get up as fast as we can and head down the snow-dusted mountain hand in hand. Once we get to the bottom, I notice the ski lifts are already off so I unbuckle both our boots from the board and we sprint towards the car.
We make it to safety and both of our hearts are racing.
“We made it!” I say and reach out to give her a high five. She slaps her hand against mine and we hop in the car and ride back to the cabin.
As we ascend the mountain, my mind keeps racing—what will I do when Genevieve is gone? The thought of life without her feels unbearable.