Golden Girl (12 page)

He snorted. “Yeah, well, half of them are from when I was a kid. Back then everyone went home with a trophy.” He paused, then added, “Besides, I'm sure you have a room three times that size with all your winnings.”

Now it was my turn to blush. My dad had actually turned my old bedroom in his staff cottage into a Lexi shrine of sorts, and yes, it was kind of overflowing at this point. I'd always been proud of the awards—my dad and I would spend hours going through and dusting and polishing each and every one while we reminisced about which race they'd come from. I sighed. Were those days over forever?

I felt Logan staring at me, and I looked up. His mouth quirked in a shy smile. “I'm glad you're here,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“I'm glad to be here,” I whispered back, a hot flush crossing my cheeks. And I
was
glad, I realized. In fact, at that moment, there was no place else in the world I would rather have been.

“Logan? Can you come here for a second?”

Logan sighed and scrambled to his feet.

“Coming, Mom,” he muttered. Then he mouthed, “Be right back!” to me before heading into the next room.

I stared down at my soup, no longer hungry as butterflies decided to throw an impromptu rave in my stomach. I couldn't believe I was actually here. Having dinner with a boy. A boy who maybe liked me. Like,
liked
me, liked me. Suddenly I was really, really glad I hadn't stayed in Florida this winter.

“Sorry about that!” Logan interrupted my fantasy as he walked back into the room a moment later. His eyes were shining. “But good news!”

“Oh?” I cocked my head in question.

He held up two pieces of paper, a big grin spreading across his face. “I may be banned from Green Mountain,” he announced proudly. “But I think Snow Peak would be happy to take my mom's tickets.”

I stared up at him, not understanding. “What do you mean?'

“Turns out, Mom's been holding out on me,” he explained, pressing the papers into my hands. I looked down, realizing they were two vouchers, good for lift tickets at neighboring Snow Peak, a small ski resort about twenty minutes north of here. “She had these two tickets stashed in a drawer for the last six months,” he explained. “Told me she was saving them for a special occasion. I told her this was it.” He snatched them back, looking down at the vouchers as if they were made of gold. “Isn't this great?”

The butterflies stopped short. “You're . . . going riding at Snow Peak?”

“
We
are!” he corrected. “Tomorrow, if you're free.”

I stared up at him, a million emotions swirling through me all at once, warring for dominance. He wanted me to go snowboarding tomorrow? With him? What was I going to say?

Logan seemed to sense my hesitation. His smile faltered a bit. “I guess it's not a big deal for you,” he amended. “I mean you get to ride at Green Mountain every day. . . .”

The hurt in his voice startled me, and I realized, suddenly, just how valuable those two vouchers were to him and his family. Lift tickets were expensive, he'd told me last night. And yet he wanted to give one to me. Giving up an extra day on the mountain, just so the two of us could spend time together, doing something he assumed we both loved.

“I know Snow Peak isn't that great,” he rambled on, his once-smiling face taking on a sheen of anxiety. “But the pipe's not so bad. And there's this amazing secret trail on the back side of the mountain—with the best natural cliff hop I've ever seen. Oh and there's this little abandoned snowmaking hut I found halfway down. Perfect for a picnic lunch . . .”

His words tumbled over one another as he mapped out our day. All the places he wanted to take me. His favorite places—the ones that meant something to him. Watching his anxious eyes as he babbled on, trying to convince me this was a good idea, I realized that even though I should say no—that I should tell him the truth about my accident—I couldn't do it. I couldn't let him down.

So, instead, I found myself nodding yes. Telling him I couldn't wait. That I'd meet him bright and early outside of Mountain Academy's front gate so his mom could drive us over.

As I kept talking, as my mouth kept assuring him I was completely down with the plan, I tried my best to shove the rising doubts and fears to the back of my brain, telling myself I'd deal with them later. Right now reality could wait.

Right now it was enough to see Logan smile.

L
ogan's mother said she didn't like the idea of me taking the bus back to Mountain Academy by myself, so she offered to take me in her car instead. And so after dinner the three of us piled into her 1980s wood-paneled station wagon and began to chug up the steep mountain road. I was half-afraid the old boat wasn't going to make it to the top of the hill, but Mrs. Conrad insisted it was the little engine that could, and sure enough, we eventually pulled up to the old guard shack. Logan's mom flashed her employee ID, and a few minutes later she pulled over and idled at Mountain Academy's front gates.

Logan had insisted I ride shotgun, and, as his mother put the car in park, he leaped from the back, gallantly opening the door for me and offering me a hand to help me out of the car. My eyes darted nervously as I stepped out, praying no one was around. If someone saw me getting out of a stranger's car, they might ask questions. They might even tell my dad. After last night, the last thing I needed was to be caught with Logan again.

“So I'll see you tomorrow?” Logan asked, looking as nervous as I felt. I wanted to tell him to get back in the car before he got caught again. But at the same time I didn't want him to leave.

“Can't wait,” I said with a smile. “I had fun today.”

He grinned back at me. “Me too.”

And then, to my surprise, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against my cheek. Before I could even register the movement, he darted past me, jumped in the car, and slammed the door shut behind him.

I placed a hand to my cheek. He'd kissed me. Logan had kissed me. Okay, it was on the cheek, but still! Seriously, if it wasn't for the fear of breaking my neck on the ice, I'd probably launch into a full round-off back handspring of joy right about now.

Forcing myself to regain some semblance of composure, I skipped back toward my dorm, feeling lighter and happier than I'd felt in weeks. Maybe even the entire year. I was out of breath by the time I reached my dorm, my excitement burning like a fever. I slid the key into the lock, then pushed open the door, bursting into the room.

“Caitlin, you will not believe what I—”

I stopped mid-sentence as I realized my roommate was not alone. My father was sitting on my bed, picking at a sticker I'd stuck on the bedpost the year before. He looked up.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, rising from his seat. “Where have you been? I've been looking all over campus for you this afternoon.”

His tone was light, cheery. But I could sense an underlying suspicion. Had Olivia mentioned seeing me with Logan that morning? Had someone noticed me getting on the bus? My mind raced—what could I tell him? Obviously not that I'd been hanging out in Littleton with the boy he'd told me not to see. But at the same time, he wasn't necessarily going to buy the normal hangouts—the library, the ski shop—for all I knew he'd already been looking for me there.

No, there was only one possible answer to this question.

“I just got back from taking a few runs,” I lied, feeling guilt swim in my stomach even as I said the words. The last thing I wanted was to give him false hope about my recovery. But at the same time, it was the easiest thing to say.

Sure enough, his eyes lit up. “That's great, honey!” he exclaimed. He crossed the room in two seconds and threw his arms around me, squeezing me into a huge hug. “I'm so proud of you. Getting right back on that horse—not letting yesterday's little fall get you down. Now that's the Lexi I know and love!”

I hugged him back, ignoring the feeling of Caitlin's questioning eyes burning into my back. There would be time to explain to her later.

“I'm sorry about last night, Dad,” I added. “I shouldn't have taken off like that. I didn't mean to worry you.”

Dad pulled away from the hug, looking down at me with proud, shining eyes. “I know you didn't,” he assured me. “You'd had a rough day. You needed to blow off some steam. I totally get it. We had some ragers of our own back in the day, let me tell you. The stories I could tell . . .” He shook his head. “Now come on. We're going to dinner. I've made reservations at Jacques's. We can celebrate you getting back on the mountain today!”

“Jacques's?” I raised an eyebrow. Jacques's was this big, fancy steakhouse over at the Green Mountain Resort Hotel. It was the kind of restaurant you actually had to get dressed up for or they wouldn't let you in. The kind of restaurant my dad had always made fun of, calling it an overpriced tourist trap. So why did he suddenly have reservations for us to go? Something had to be up.

“What, can't a father take his only daughter out somewhere nice?” he protested.

“I guess so,” I said with a shrug, pushing the doubts to the back of my mind. “I'll need a few minutes to shower and change though. Can't wear jeans to Jacques's.”

“No rush,” he told me. “The reservation is at eight. Just meet me outside the restaurant ten minutes before.”

“Okay, sounds good,” I agreed. At least that would give me some time to work up an appetite for a second dinner.

“Nice chatting with you, Caitlin,” my father added to my roommate. “I hope you do well on that history test Monday.” A moment later he was out the door.

I turned to my roommate. “Okay, then. That was weird.”

“Um, not half as weird as you telling him you went snowboarding today,” Caitlin replied, giving me a skeptical once-over.

“How do you know I didn't?”

“Well, for one, you don't have helmet head. You also seem to be wearing full makeup. Not to mention a wool coat, instead of your Burton ski jacket. And—”

“Okay, okay, Nancy Drew,” I cried, holding up my hands in mock innocence. I plopped myself down onto her bed and grabbed her hands, squeezing them tight. “Do you want to hear what I was really out doing then?” I asked, unable to keep the girlie-girl trill of excitement from my voice.

“Uh, duh.”

I paused dramatically. Then, “I met a guy.”

“Really?” she exclaimed, her eyes widening into saucers. “Who? Is it that new kid—what's his name? He's pretty cute. Or was it—?”

“He doesn't go to Mountain Academy,” I interrupted. “His name is Logan. He's Mrs. Conrad's son. You know, from the cafeteria?” I leaned back, swooning a little as I thought of Logan all over again. “You don't even know, Caitlin. He's so nice. And so cute. I met him last night out at the half-pipe and he took me to this awesome party. . . .” I quickly relayed the short version of the story, ending with my dad and the ski patrol busting us mountainside.

“Dude!” Caitlin cried once I was finished. “You're lucky your dad didn't ground you until Easter.”

“I know, right?” I shook my head. “I felt really bad about it. I mean, not about me getting caught—I can deal with Dad. But I hate the fact that Logan got banned from the mountain because of me. Evidently he missed out on this big race because of it too. Anyway, I decided to meet up with him this morning to tell him I was sorry. And we ended up going down to Littleton to hang out.”

“You went off campus?” Caitlin gasped.

I shrugged. “It wasn't a huge deal. We went to this coffee house that had an arcade and then to his house.” Caitlin's eyes widened again. I laughed. “No, nothing like
that
. His mom was there,” I assured her. “It was no big deal. We just had dinner and I got to see all his snowboarding trophies. Oh and before that I got to sing with this band.” I reached into my pocket and held up the thumb drive. “They recorded it too. I'll have to play it for you sometime.”

Caitlin let out a low whistle. “Wow,” she said. “And to think I've been just sitting here, studying for my history test.” She grinned at me. “So are you going to see him again?”

I flopped back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “That's the problem,” I admitted. “I sort of promised him I'd go snowboarding with him tomorrow. Over at Snow Peak.”

“You promised a cute guy who likes you that you'd hang out with him again?” Caitlin gave me a puzzled look. “How is that a problem? I mean, besides you totally breaking school rules for the third time in one weekend. But it appears you don't seem to care about that.”

I rolled my eyes. “It's the snowboarding, duh!” I reminded her. “You might remember the last time I attempted to ride down a mountain? I fell flat on my face and then froze. The rescue team had to take me down by sled.”

Caitlin snorted. “Oh please,” she scoffed. “That was only because of stupid Olivia. I bet you'll be just fine hanging with Logan. Besides, it's not like he won't let you take it easy, knowing the circumstances.”

I gave her a guilty look. “Actually . . .”

“Wait, you didn't tell him?” Caitlin cried, disbelief clear in her voice.

I shook my head.

“Why wouldn't you? I mean, no offense, but it seems like something maybe he should know if you've agreed to go snowboarding with him.”

I sighed, pulling myself up and off her bed. “I don't know,” I muttered. “I guess I just kind of liked him thinking I was normal. Some random, everyday Mountain Academy student, instead of a poor accident victim.”

Caitlin gave me a sympathetic look. “Well,” she tried, and I could see her optimism engine working overtime as she chose her words. “Maybe it won't be a big deal. Maybe tomorrow you'll suddenly find your feet again and fly down the mountain, just like you used to.”