***
"The... look... on your... face!" I wheeze out between giggles.
Moose squirms, no doubt trying to slide the snow down where he can reach into his suit and grab it, an incredulous look on his face.
"You're lucky there are so many witnesses or else I'd suplex you into that snow bank and leave you for dead," he threatens me, but I can see the amusement in his eyes.
I shake my head and swipe at my eyes—having laughed so hard tears are now blurring my vision.
"What's going on over here?" James questions from close behind me.
I jump and let out a small squeak, not expecting him. At the sound, Moose bursts out in laughter. I glower at him—an immediate reversal of our situation.
"Shut up!" I smack his chest with the glove dangling from my wrist. "That wasn't nearly as funny as your 'holy shit' expression."
James stands between us, a confused look on his face. It's only then that I notice he's holding three large, foil-wrapped ovals that smell suspiciously like breakfast burritos. I tear my glare away from a still-laughing Moose and smile sweetly at my brother.
"Brother dearest, would one of those perhaps be for me?" I point and question.
James rolls his eyes and nods, "Yes, I grabbed the last three. They only had sausage left, but it's better than nothing." He holds one out to me.
I greedily snatch it and begin pulling down the foil, my stomach growling. I would have preferred bacon, but free food is free food. "Did you grab any salsa?" I ask, looking back at James.
His eyes widen. "Oh yeah! They're in my pocket," he gestures to his side with the two burritos still in his hands.
Moose moves to grab a burrito and I take the initiative to reach into James's jacket pocket to grab the salsa containers. My hand closes around a couple plastic cups and I pull them out triumphantly, grinning. I hand one to Moose, who's already three bites deep into his burrito, and work on getting the lid off my own.
"Where are Vanessa and Russ?" I look around, noticing they're still missing, and don't spot them anywhere near us.
"Bathroom," James says around a mouthful of burrito. I cringe as I watch him tilt his head back and pour salsa into his mouth, getting a disgusting peak at slightly chewed food.
"Nice, and gross." I quip, looking down at my own burrito and willing that image from my mind.
"You know, Em," Moose quips. "The sun is coming out in full-force and that snow you put down my suit actually feels really nice between my cheeks right now," he finishes with a shit-eating grin.
James and him both laugh, I roll my eyes.
"You men are just as immature as you were in high school."
"Speaking of high school," Moose's expression morphs into one of curiosity. "I saw Sophie and Ian in line for the lift earlier."
I nod my head, "It's Sofia and Ethan, but yeah, I ran into Sof while I was standing in line to buy my ticket. She seems well." I keep my tone light and take a huge bite of my burrito, hoping Moose gets the hint that I don't want to go any further into the topic of my ex-best friend and her new life.
"Come on, dude. You were at their wedding and you still can't get their names right?" James lightly pushes Moose's shoulder and scoffs.
Moose shrugs, "I never really interacted with either of them besides when Emma'd bring them over. I think I got them close enough."
The boys continue to bicker and I tune them out, scanning the crowd around us. The outdoor seating area is lively, filled with people of all ages chatting, eating, rough-housing, and laughing. There are several food trucks that I don't remember stationed around the courtyard, selling hot drinks, alcohol, and meals. Most of the tables have small gas fire pits in the middle for people to warm their hands and tall heat lamps are also scattered around for extra warmth.
As I people-watch, I spot Vanessa and Russ picking their way through the tables towards us. I catch Russell's eye and give them a small wave which also catches the boys' attention and they turn to see the other two approaching.
"Ready to hit the lift?" Russell asks as they get within speaking distance.
"You bet your ass we are," Moose replies enthusiastically. James and I nod in agreement.
"Then, let's get it!"
***
Two hours later, I'm sitting on a lift between Vanessa and James, making our way up to the highest point on the mountain to run a black. Moose and Russell are on the chair behind us and I can hear their whoops as the shots of Fireball we took before our last run start to kick in.
I groan, frustrated that I gave into their peer pressure when I had originally planned to stay away from difficult runs.
"You've only fallen on your ass nine times, Em. I'm moderately confident that you can make it down this run alive--and fully intact," James knocks his helmet against mine and smiles.
I elbow him, eliciting a soft groan. "If I die, it's on you, just remember that."
"Dramatic, much?"
"We both know I'm the favorite child, our parents will never forgive you if I come home maimed or dead."
James snorts. "Please, Mom worships the ground I walk on and Dad can't go more than three days without calling to ask when I'm visiting again. I'm the favorite."
I keep my laugh lighthearted. He's right, and we both know it. I lost the fight to be the golden child when I left.
"Whatever. I just better not get hurt, I need to be back in Portland at the end of this week."
"Right, right. Don't think I haven't forgotten. Heaven forbid you have to stay in Seattle for longer than you need to. Just follow my line and you'll be fine." He looks away.
A few minutes later the three of us exit the lift, moving to the side to wait for the other two. Once we're all grouped up, we make our way to the start of the run and strap in.
"M and I did this run earlier, stick to the left about a third of the way down, there are some gnarly tree wells in the tree line to the right," Russell directs. "Also, looks like there is a lot more ice now, be careful of your speed."
"Yes, Daddy Russ," James salutes. "Anything else?"
I take advantage of the slight silence. "Last to the bottom owes everyone a shot!" I yell and take off, catching everyone off guard.
"So much for following my line!" James shouts after me. I throw him the finger.
Russell was right about the ice, I feel it almost immediately as I carve down the run. Thankfully, with the amount the sun is shining, it's easy to see what's still powder and what's slick. I stick to the left and slow down slightly, waiting for the group to catch-up. I'm still getting my bearings on the board after taking so much time off and it won't be great if I get too far ahead. Plus, thanks to a recent avalanche the season before, this run looks a little different than the last time I was up here and I'm having a hard time figuring out what's in-bounds and what's out.
Vanessa zooms past me, catching me completely off-guard. Her skis make navigating this terrain a lot easier, so it's no surprise she caught up so quickly, but normally she hangs out towards the back of the group and is more moderate with her speed. I chalk her brazenness up to the alcohol.
I can hear the boys not too far behind me and glance back to check their distance. Moose is closest to me with Russell and James a bit further back.
No one else seems to be on this run at the moment, giving us free-reign to mess around.
Moose seems to realize this as soon as I do because he quickly slides up next to me, pulls his goggles up, winks, and then takes a sharp right to cut across the run and into the treeline.
Oh, it's on. I quickly check that I won't be crossing anyone's line before cutting across and following after Moose.
Due to the altitude, the trees are spaced out enough that it's easy to maneuver between them. I glide my board through the terrain, my body protesting a bit at the need to use muscles I don't normally exercise. I see Moose's bright purple snowsuit a few yards ahead of me, easily cutting through the trees. I'm thankful that it seems this route has been taken by others before, making it easier on me than making my own path through the terrain.
It's challenging, but exhilarating. Once I've gotten into the groove of maneuvering through the trees. I glance around me, taking in the calm and serene landscape. Aside from the path we're following, the snow around us is virtually untouched, rolling through the trees like white waves. There are pockets of sunshine peaking through where the trees are more sparse and the contrast between the dark evergreens and pure snow is dazzling. It's beautiful, and I smile happily to myself.
Moose continues further into the trees and I follow, still a few yards behind. My anxiety starts to build the longer we're out-of-bounds, but the fact that Moose knows this run and that the route we're taking still shows signs of recent use quells my fears down to a quiet voice in the back of my mind. We won't sail off the edge of a cliff.
Probably.
I come up on a series of quick, back-to-back turns and loose my balance slightly, my stomach dropping as my body careens towards a tree. Thankfully, my experience kicks in and I automatically adjust to counteract the imbalance, righting myself before I get clothes-lined by a low branch.
I let out a heavy breath, but don't have time to dwell on the near-miss as the terrain starts to become more difficult.
The trees are becoming closer together, indicating we've made it a good ways down the mountain already, and with that there are more turns and larger drops. I slow my speed, preferring to fall behind than lose my balance again and sail head-first into a trunk.
Moose is already a ways ahead of me, far enough that calling out for him to slow down would probably be useless.
Leave it to that idiot to forget that I'm even behind him in the first place. He's probably in his own little world right now, this terrain likely still a piece of cake for him.
I watch for a few seconds as he gets further and further away, but am quickly forced to put all my attention into maneuvering around the rocks and trees and staying on the path. I'm huffing now, the exertion catching up to me, and I debate trying to get back over to the run, but I have no idea how far down the mountain we are and if we're still parallel.
Staying on this route should eventually spit me back out into known territory. Right?
Suddenly, there's a fork in the path and I push into a stop to decide which way to go. The right path seems easier from what I can see and possibly less dense. The left would make more sense to pick as I know the run should be somewhere to the left, but the route seems less recent, the snow thicker and more undisturbed.
I use the pause to catch my breath as I mull it over.
It's possible that the left path is a relatively new route that some take if they want more of a challenge, which aligns with why I don't see very many tracks.
Though it seems counterintuitive, the right path could actually loop back around to the left.
I bank on that idea as I angle my board towards the right and send it.
***
