Golden Girl (3 page)

I hoisted my suitcase onto the bed's bare mattress, realizing I'd need to grab some sheets at Dad's place before bed. Caitlin watched me curiously as I unzipped the luggage and pulled out a pair of jeans, placing them in the nearby dresser.

“I hope that side is okay,” she said after a pause. “I did try e-mailing you at the beginning of the semester to see if you had a preference. . . .” She trailed off, her cheerful face wavering a bit. “But maybe I had your address wrong.”

She hadn't, of course. I'd gotten her e-mail. I simply hadn't known what to reply. As with Becca, I didn't know at the time if I'd be coming back at all. If I'd ever snowboard again. But the idea of putting that in an e-mail . . . written down. As if it were already a fact . . .

“Sorry,” I muttered, hanging a sweater in my closet. “I was pretty busy with”—my mind flashed guiltily to my lazy days lying out on the beach with my friends—“with therapy.” I finished lamely.

“Oh!” Caitlin's eyes widened. “Right! Of course! I'm sorry. I didn't mean—” She suddenly looked as if she were about to cry. Great. I closed my suitcase, no longer feeling in the mood to unpack. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted to come back here. To face all the questions, the curious stares, the pitying eyes . . . all wondering if Golden Girl had finally lost her luster.

Time for a major subject change. “So . . . ,” I started. “Have you seen Cam around? Is he as cute as ever?” Because of my accident, we never did get to go on our date. But now that I was back, I was more than ready for a rain check. After all, I might have hurt my knee. But my lips were working just fine.

“Um.” Caitlin surprised me by hesitating. I watched her bite her lower lip. “I don't know if he's all
that
cute. And, to be honest, he's not all that smart, either, you know. In fact, I'd say he's kind of a—”

I frowned. “Caitlin, what are you trying to say?”

My roommate threw me a tormented look. “He's dating some new girl named Tera,” she blurted out after a deathly long pause. “They've been hanging out for at least two weeks now.”

I sat carefully on my bed. Two weeks? I'd missed my chance with the potential love of my life by two short weeks?

“But trust me, the girl's got nothing on you,” Caitlin insisted loyally. “She's not half as pretty. And I heard she only got into school because her dad donated, like, some kind of library or something. She's not even that good of a skier.”

But she was probably a great kisser.

“Well, it's for the best,” I replied, trying to muster up some bravado as I pushed down the lump in my throat. “I have a lot to do this year. I wouldn't have much time for dating.”

“Right.” Caitlin nodded encouragingly. “Exactly! Who has time for boring old boys anyway? You've got the Olympics to qualify for.” She grabbed me by the hand and dragged me off the bed. “Come on. It's lunchtime and the gang is all excited to see you. And bonus,” she added with a super-wide grin. “There's pizza on the menu.”

•  •  •

The Mountain Academy cafeteria wasn't like your typical high school caf, serving nasty dried-up chicken nuggets and shriveled Salisbury steak. After all, good nutrition is super important for snowboarders and skiers who, on average, can burn up to a thousand calories an hour while in hard-core training mode. So the school hired special nutritionists to create elaborate, healthy, calorie-rich menus and brought in five-star chefs to prepare each meal. It's one of the reasons tuition is so expensive here. We eat well.

I kept my head down and my hood up, attempting to keep a low profile as I followed Caitlin through the windy maze of tables on our way to our traditional lunch spot. We'd sat at the same table for years, ever since Becca and I first claimed it back in fifth grade. It was a sweet spot, overlooking the caf, while remaining close enough to the food line to make it easy to go back for seconds, as we often did.

I scanned the table as we approached. With the exception of Becca, the gang was all there, all talking animatedly to one another as they scarfed down plates piled sky high with food. On the left end sat Jennifer and Jordan, identical-twin alpine skiers who did everything together. Then there was Brooklyn to their right, who still sported a bandage on her nose from the aforementioned Stinky Susan incident. Next to her lounged Caitlin's best guy friend, Dante, the scruffy gamer geek who preferred virtual shredding to real life. As usual, his nose was buried in his phone and the Crazy Snowboard game app, pretending the rest of his tablemates didn't exist. Across from him sat Jessie, who was sketching on her napkin. She was a quiet artist who painted beautiful mountain landscapes that hung on the walls of several Mountain Academy classrooms. On the surface she appeared to be sweet and serene. But I knew she was an absolute monster on the half-pipe.

“Look who's here!” Caitlin squealed, slapping me on the back. Four out of the five pairs of eyes looked up (Dante kept his on his game), and suddenly I found myself drowning in a sea of excited chatter and questions.

“Where have you been?”

“When did you get back?”

“How's your leg?”

“How's your knee?”

“Are you totally better?”

“Are you back for good?”

I sucked in a breath, attempting to keep my composure. I tried to remind myself that they were being nice. Concerned about my well-being. They didn't know how much I didn't want to get into anything. I snuck a quick glance around the caf, looking for Becca, but came up empty.

“You should see the new park they built!” Jessie cried, dropping her pencil to grab her iPhone. She pulled up a photo and held it out for me to see. “They're calling it the Apocalypse.”

“Yeah, it's slamming,” agreed Dante, looking up from his game for the first time. “You're going to
die
when you see it!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Caitlin giving him a warning look. His face paled.

“Oh, I didn't mean— I mean—” he stammered. “Well, you know what I meant.” He shook his head, dropping his eyes back to his phone, his cheeks burning.

“Ignore him,” Caitlin said, rolling her eyes. “The video games have rotted his brain.”

“It's okay,” I assured her, more than ready to change the subject. “I'll get him back tonight in the lounge when I crush him in Call of Duty.” I turned to Dante. “Hope you've been practicing, gamer boy. Being stuck in a cast has given me much time to hone my mad skills.” I threw out some made-up gang symbols and everyone laughed. Even Dante looked up from his game with a chuckle.

“You're so on, Golden Girl.”

“Watch out Mountain Academy!” Brooklyn piped in. “Our Lexi is
back
!” She grinned, raising her hand to fist-bump me. “Back like a heart attack!”

E
veryone cheered again, and I accepted several more fist bumps and high fives before they went back to their food, leaving me standing there like a grinning fool, wondering how long it would take for them to discover the truth. That while I had no fears of being bested in any video game, getting back on the real-life mountain, after a year away, was going to be a bit more of a challenge.
Back like a heart attack?
More like I was probably going to
have
a heart attack my first trip down a double black diamond.

But how could I admit something like that to a tableful of Olympic hopefuls? Sure, it was one thing to tell my Florida friends. They figured things were cool as long as I hadn't injured my flirting muscle and could still achieve a golden tan. But to a Mountain Academy student a lost Olympic dream might as well have been a death sentence.

I shuffled from foot to foot, feeling awkward as anything. “I, uh, need to get some lunch,” I announced at last, though truth be told I was no longer hungry. As I retreated to the soup line, Caitlin chased after me.

“Sorry,” she said, looking sheepish. “I told them to be cool. But you know how they are. Especially Dante.”

“They were fine,” I assured her, not wanting to get into it. “Even Dante.” I gave her one of my fake smiles. “Seriously, don't worry about it. It's all good.”

“Yay!” she cheered, grinning from ear to ear, completely buying my act. “I so missed you!” she squealed. “I really did!”

I sighed. “I missed you, too.” I glanced back at the table to see if Becca had arrived yet, but it didn't look like it from here. Where was she? She was completely ruining my surprise! Not to mention she was the only one I could really, truly talk to about this kind of stuff. I seriously needed to find her and fast, or I was going to go insane.

The line moved, and a few minutes later we stepped up to the counter, where a familiar face was ladling out several different types of soup.

“Hey, Mrs. Conrad.” I greeted her, placing my tray down in front of my favorite cafeteria lady. I breathed in, enjoying the rich, warm smells wafting from the cauldrons. “How's it going?”

“Lexi Miller?” she cried, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “I haven't seen you all year!” She gave me a mock accusing look. “Have you been skipping the soup line and going straight for the pizza?” She wagged her finger playfully. “I shouldn't have to remind you of the importance of proper vegetables. . . .”

I held up my hands in innocence. “Come on, Mrs. Conrad! You know I'd never cheat on your delicious soup with a slimy piece of pepperoni. In fact, I just got back to school today. And the first thing I thought of was a big heaping bowl of chicken noodle.”

“Well, that can be arranged.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It's good to have you back, sweetie,” she said, reaching over the cauldron to give me a hug.

“Um, ew, do you mind? That's, like, completely unsanitary!”

We broke from the hug, and I whirled around to see none other than Olivia herself behind me in line. From the look on her face you'd think the poor cafeteria lady had grabbed a pile of rat fur and thrown it into the soup on purpose.

Mrs. Conrad's face paled. “Sorry, Miss Masters,” she murmured, quickly grabbing her ladle and pouring a steaming helping of soup into my bowl.

I scowled. With Olivia's dad running the food-services company at both his resort and the school, she believed it was her right to bully the staff anytime they broke some kind of imaginary Olivia food-safety rule. Especially staff members who dared be nice to her archenemy.

“Last week I swear I found a dog hair in my soup,” Olivia continued haughtily. “I should have reported it.”

“Are you sure that didn't come from your own head?” Caitlin asked sweetly.

Olivia's gaze swung in Caitlin's direction, then leveled on me, as if noticing me for the first time. I caught a glimpse of loathing cross her face—but she quickly masked it with a brilliant smile.

“Oh my gosh!” she squealed, bouncing up and down, turning to her little minions behind her. “Girls! Can you believe it? It's Lexi Miller! Our Golden Girl is back!” Before I could stop her, she threw her arms around me, giving me an enthusiastic, Caitlin-like hug. “Wow. Lexi Miller. I didn't think you'd be back this year.”

I jerked away from the hug, my hackles rising. “Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint.”

Her overly pink-glossed, bow-shaped mouth opened in a shocked O. “Disappoint?” she repeated, widening her big blue eyes in total innocence. “How could I
possibly
be disappointed to see you alive and well? After all, I was
so
worried about you!” She gave me a thorough once-over, as if trying to assess my current state of well-being. I had to admit, she looked sincere. But behind her, I could hear her minions snicker. “It was such a horrific
accident
, after all,” she clucked, all mother-hen-like. “I couldn't even imagine.” Then she looked up at me, with the biggest, blandest, most pitying smile known to humankind. “You poor, poor dear. I
do
hope you'll be back on your feet soon.”

I squeezed my hands into fists, anger burning through me like a fire. I mean, how dare she? How dare she stand there, looking so sympathetic and sweet when she was the one who had done this to me in the first place? It was all I could do not to scream out loud—to let everyone in the entire cafeteria know what a cheater she was. How she'd gone out of her way to ruin my life. How she didn't deserve to even be walking through these halls.

But I couldn't do that, of course. I couldn't say a single, solitary thing. Because if the truth came out, it would destroy Becca's life. And any self-satisfaction I might get in the short term would be dwarfed by the lifelong damage I would do to my best friend.

I forced myself to unclench my fists.

Because, you see, though it was Olivia who made me fall, it was Becca who crossed the finish line first that fateful morning, winning the race and earning a coveted spot on the school snowboard cross team. She even scored two sponsors out of the deal who hooked her up with some pretty sweet new gear. In short, my nightmare was Becca's dream come true. And the last thing I wanted to do was to wake her up. I knew full well if I told the powers that be that Olivia had cheated, the race would be invalidated, and my best friend would lose everything she'd gained.

No revenge was worth that.

So I'd bitten my tongue when Olivia pranced into my hospital room the day after the accident, offering sickening sweet condolences with wide innocent eyes. And I'd said nothing when the school's safety committee grilled me about the incident two days later. I'd kept my mouth shut during my endless physical therapy sessions, and I knew I'd have to continue to stay quiet now that I was back in school.

But Caitlin didn't.

“Oh, don't you worry,
Slow
-livia!” my roommate butted in, stepping between us like a protective pit bull. Her eyes flashed with challenge. “I'm sure you'll be eating Lexi's snowy dust in no time at all.”