Chapter Eleven
Hale
“Are you ready?” I asked Saoirse.
Bailey, Dusty’s social media person, adjusted the camera on my forehead. We were at the top of one of the expert trails and ready to race.
I had no idea what to expect, since Saoirse had chosen it. That was half the fun.
Saoirse replied, but I could only understand about half of what she said because of her thick accent. It sounded like, Have fun, don’t die, which was always good advice.
“This is going to be incredible,” agreed Dusty, who somehow could comprehend her. He was going to race with us.
It was really early. The time zone thing had me all fucked up. I’d found Dusty half-asleep on the couch watching TV.
Saoirse had already been up, making coffee, and getting ready to hit the slopes.
So, we’d left Carlos and Fiona at the villa and gone up the mountain.
After spending some time on the slopes, me on my snowboard, Saoirse on skis, and Dusty on fucking snow skates, Bailey met us and we were ready to go.
I connected my phone to the camera, using the booster Bailey brought me, and went live, using the phone first. “It’s Hale-strom, live from Switzerland, and I’m about to race BroKen down a mountain. Just look at this trail!”
Saoirse was all covered up and didn’t really want to be part of the livestream, but still wanted to race us. I could respect that.
“Hey, Lovely Fuckers! I’m joining Hale-i-o-burrito today for a little winter fun.” Dusty, who had taken off his shirt for this, flashed the peace sign, leaning into me.
“I’m switching to the head cam. See you on the other side.” I swapped cameras, and put my phone in my pocket.
Dusty had a speaker tied to his waist as his song Big Dick Contest blared.
“Ready?” Bailey asked. She was on a snowboard. “Three… two… one… go!”
We took off down the run, exhilaration shooting through me as we barreled down the mountain. Most of my experience with skiing was in the Northeast with my dad’s family. The chance to ski mountains like this, for free, was amazing.
And racing BroKen down a mountain? Fantastic. Honestly, I needed those snow skates, which were like mini skis.
Keeping low and centered, I gained speed. While I didn’t care about winning, I did want to put on a good show for everyone joining my livestream. It was the thrill of it that I enjoyed–both of the stunts themselves and having an audience.
Someone fucking yodeled behind me. Yodeled!
A moment later Saoirse barreled past us, like she had a dozen cupcakes that she was trying to hide from her siblings.
Shit, she had skills. But who really had skills was Bailey, who kept pace with us, while holding a phone. Did she get hazard pay?
I slid to a stop as we crossed the finish line right before Dusty.
“Wow! I got third!” Dusty gave me a high five.
“That was really fun,” I agreed.
I got my phone back out and switched the livestream back to my phone. “Well, that concludes our race. Thanks for joining in! Peace and beans.”
As I signed off, Dusty was talking into the camera on Bailey’s phone.
Were Carlos and Fiona up now? I texted them.
Me
Are you awake?
“Dusty, Kace says it’s time to go to sound check,” Bailey told him, the livestream apparently finished.
Saoirse took off her gaiter and goggles, and checked her phone. She nodded and said, “I’m going to go back up, there’s some trails near the stages I’d like to try before they close them off for tonight.”
Or something like that.
“I’m going to hit one of the snow parks. Then I’ll check on the sleepyheads,” I said.
I got an insta-chat message from my sister Mercy.
She was eighteen and a crusher for the Manhattan Maimers, which was a skate smash team.
She’d been signed while still in high-school and I’d been so fucking proud of her.
It was a sport where the baddest bitches you’ve ever met raced around the ice rink to rave music and tried to stop each other with full body contact. It was insane.
Insanely fun to watch.
“I’m in an airport waiting to fly to Rockland to see Grace for Christmas. Nice livestream there. You’re besties with BroKen now?” my little sister teased over her video message.
I made her a video back as I headed toward one of the snow parks. “I wouldn't say we’re besties. But I’d be all for it.”
Mercy was staying with Verity and her pack, and living her best life, making lots of money and having zero rent.
“Wait, why are you at the airport?” I blinked as I made an insta-chat back. “Didn’t you leave with Verity?”
I got a reply immediately.
“No. I had a game tonight, assface. I’m eighteen, I don’t need a chaperone anymore. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Verity you borrowed her car. But I want a nice Christmas present,” she replied.
I sucked in a breath and replied, “You know?”
“Um, I’ve known your alt for ages. I saw the street race. Where are you? I can’t see your location.” She made a face.
I’d turned it off. “Switzerland.”
She didn’t immediately reply as I trudged to the snow park, which was busy with snowboarders. This one was full of rails, jumps, and half-pipes.
“Don’t tell me you’re at fucking Winter-Fest,” she finally replied. As usual for the skate smash season, her light brown hair was in two Dutch braids.
“I won’t.” I made sure she got a good view of the snow park.
“You’re shitting my dick. You must have traded lots of drugs for that. Anyhow, record the Manic Dream Pixies’ set and send it to me?”
“I’ll try?” Leaning on the fence, I watched the half-pipe and looked at the schedule, trying to figure out when Manic Dream Pixie played. Tomorrow. Okay, I could probably do that.
I got another insta-chat from her.
“Are you calling Mom for Christmas?” Her voice was soft.
I thought for a moment, then answered her. “If she calls me, I’ll answer, but I wasn’t planning on it. I visited her before I left and put a little money on her account.”
“Okay. I sent her stuff off the jail’s holiday order list. I haven’t called her in a while, though I answer her calls sometimes.” Conflict crossed her face.
Mom had done something horrible, but she was also our bio-mom.
It was fucking hard. Our mom was the reason Grace had grown up thinking Dad had abandoned her and had a shitty childhood.
We loved Grace, too, and it was difficult grappling with the fact that she suffered at the hands of the same person who wiped our tears and tucked us in at night.
Our mom going to jail also made the rest of the parents treat Mercy and me differently. Which fucking sucked. Mumsy was especially mean about it.
I got another insta-chat from Mercy. “Hey, I have a flight to catch. Love you. Don’t add to the population. Don’t subtract from the population. Don’t end up in jail, because I’m not bailing your ass out.” She blew me a kiss.
“Love you. Merry Christmas.” I blew one back.
Grabbing my snowboard, I entered the park. I’d spend a little time here, then go wake up Carlos and Fiona. After all, we had to see the skijoring expo.