I grab her hand and for one brief second, I feel her tense up. She grips my hand tightly and yanks me up onto my feet with a smile.
“Can I ask... well, if you don’t mind...” I whisper, but she quickly shakes her head.
“No. Please don’t.”
“Alright. Sorry,” I answer. That’s all I need to hear to understand. Everyone has dark, scary places inside them—places where all the memories are nightmares—and I don’t want her to get lost in hers again.
She smiles apologetically back at me.
“You ready?” she asks.
I nod back to her before answering. Tina leaves ahead of us and darts off down the slope.
“Let’s go.”
I clip my back foot into the board and immediately fall over on my back. Maria bursts out laughing.
“There’s your problem! Stop putting your weight on your back foot!”
“I wasn’t!”
“Oh don’t give me that,” she chastises me. “I saw that stance of yours. Front foot. Always the front foot!”
She points down at her feet as she lectures me, leaning exaggeratedly onto her front foot, and then she turns and slowly, gracefully floats down the slope.
I get up and follow her, but it’s really hard for me to keep my weight on my front foot. I feel like I’m going to pitch forward and face-plant every time I go over even the tiniest bump.
Just as I think I’m starting to get the hang of it, I fall again. Maria somehow cuts a perfect curve so that she flies back up the hill past me, circles around, and then grinds to a stop next to me.
“Hey, that was better! You’re getting it!” she exclaims, suddenly upbeat and confident. What happened to the girl I just watched have a nervous breakdown?
This time when I get up, everything finally clicks. I can finally stay on my feet, and Maria cheers and waves for me to follow her.
She shoots down the mountain and I chase behind her, trying my best to match her pace. Her long, black ponytail pokes out from beneath her blue helmet and flies on the wind, tantalizing me as she cuts back and forth down the slope.
I’m neither daring enough to cut through the trees like she does, nor can I match her speed and agility, but as her confident laughter flits back to me on the wind, I’m happy to be able to watch her fly.
We soar down the mountain, following the trail as it curves left and then right, cutting through dense forest and then bursting out onto the wide-open slope down the eastern ridge. The wind howls around us as we race down the bare face of the mountain, and I suddenly realize that we’re on a different trail from before.
A trail sign with a big blue square warns me that I’m out of my depth, but Maria seems perfectly content with the steeper slope and less forgiving terrain.
I can do this. I can keep up with her.
Just as I’ve committed myself to the trail, a snowboarder flies past me so close that I instinctively dodge out of the way and fall flat on my face. As he shoots down the trail, I hear him hoot and laugh.
“Stupid dumbass,” I grumble as I scramble to my feet, and I take off again.
I want to catch up with him now, pass him and leave him in the dust. I can see him maybe a few hundred feet ahead, and as I close the gap between us, my blood starts to boil. I wish I could go faster, but I’m already going too fast to stop myself.
He’s cutting back and forth dangerously close to Maria, as if he’s trying to scare her. She tries to get out of his way, but he keeps swerving right back next to her again.
“Leave me alone!”
Maria’s scared voice floats up to me on the wind, and I feel my skin get hot. I want to knock the guy’s teeth out.
Maria stops dead in her tracks, but instead of leaving her behind, he grinds to a stop as well.
“What’s wrong, babe? Don’t wanna play?”
I let myself speed up, and this time I don’t care if I can’t stop myself.
I fly right past Maria, and her bully looks up just in time to see me plow straight into him.
The impact rattles my brain, but it pops him completely off his board and sends him a good fifteen feet down the hill. The board goes on its merry way down the mountain as its owner rolls pathetically down the slope. Maria gasps in horror at the collision, but I say nothing to her yet. I quickly recover, get back on my feet, and go straight up to the downed snowboarder.
“Dude, you okay?” I shout, grinding to a stop next to him. I don’t even wait for him to answer, but instead yank him up and onto his feet.
He looks up at me angrily, but I’m not letting him get back on the offensive again.
“Jesus Christ, dude! Why the fuck are you standing in the middle of the run? Get the hell off the slope if you’re gonna goof off!” I shout, shoving all the blame for the collision squarely on him.
Dad was great at it; he’d hurt you and then make you think it was all your fault.
“Man, get some boarding lessons! You’re the one who hit me!” he counters, but it’s too little, too late. He’s on the defensive and there’s no way clawing his way back into the game now.
“Damned straight I suck at this. That’s why you don’t stop in the middle of the slope! I couldn’t have dodged your fat ass if I tried!”
I glance back at Maria and then at the cowed bully.
“What? Hitting on her in the middle of the trail? Couldn’t wait until you got to the bottom for that? She’ll still be cute when she gets down there, dumbass.”
I gesture to Maria, who is standing as still as a statue, almost as if she’s paralyzed. Suddenly, she snaps to attention, clips into her board, and hurries down the slope.
I wait for her to pass, and then I laugh triumphantly as I follow behind her.
The defeated bully shouts after us, but we’re long gone and so is his snowboard.
Saturday, February 23 – 7:30 PM
Maria
I lean my head against the ice-cold window and stare out into the darkness as streetlight after streetlight flies past. Tina has the heat up way too high in the car, and the cold feels wonderful against my skin.
Looking out into the night and seeing nothing but the occasional, deep orange flashes of the passing streetlights is somehow very soothing. My thoughts are all jumbled and disorganized, and I need to figure out what I’m feeling.
Owen intentionally ran into that jerk back on the slope. I don’t doubt it for even a second. He saw the guy trying to push me around and mess with my mind, and he came to my defense.
He protected me. Nobody but Tina has ever done that for me before.
“So, how’d your snowboarding go?” calls out Tina, breaking up my thoughts just as I thought they were finally making sense.
“It was good,” I mumble, still staring out into the night. It’s snowing, and tiny white dots glitter in the headlights and then vanish into the darkness as they zip past.
“Just good?”
“Once I calmed down, Owen and I got along pretty well,” I continue, seeing that she’s not going to let the conversation go. “We went over onto one of the blue slopes on the eastern ridge. He got a lot better.”
“Ahh...”
Tina turns on the windshield wipers and goes silent for a long time before speaking again. I watch the wipers flop back and forth... back and forth... It’s oddly relaxing.
“Maria, is there something you’re not telling me?”
I sigh and rub my eyes, trying to break the hypnotic spell of the wipers.
“Yes, there is.”
“Well then!” she exclaims, her interest piqued. “Do I nag you about it, or do I wait for you to break down and tell me anyway?”
I laugh weakly and shake my head. She’s right; I’ll probably crack and confide in her soon enough. Right now, though, I don’t understand the muddled feelings bouncing around inside me. The fear and worry I felt when I saw Owen knock over that asshole on the slope, the excitement of him coming to my aid... I don’t care so much that he did it, as that he was willing
to. Even more, though, I’m still nervous about how a snowboarding collision triggered a flashback! Even when I think I’m strong, the nightmares are still hiding and waiting to sneak up on me.
I need time to think before I tell her anything.
“Alright... wait it is,” she says, sounding a little disappointed, and she drives in silence the rest of the way home.
We go our separate ways when we finally get back to the apartment. Tina still has homework to do for tomorrow, so she locks herself away in her bedroom. I get in the shower, crank up the hot water until I’m nearly suffocating in the gloriously thick steam, and feel my fears wash away along with the sweat and grime of the day.
Maybe I can trust Owen. Maybe he’s different from the others—different from Darren in particular—and doesn’t just want to hurt me. When I finally get out of the shower, I know what I need to do. I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I have to.
I need to talk to Owen. I need to find out why he tried to protect me.
It is dark downstairs, and I tiptoe quietly down and into the kitchen. Tina’s coat is hanging on the back of the closet door, and I start to rummage through its pockets.
Crumpled chocolate wrappers, loose change... eew, a used tissue... where is that sticky note?
“Are you looking for this?” calls out Tina from behind me, and I nearly leap into the air from surprise.
I spin around and see Tina lying on the couch with her pathology textbook and a clip-on reading light. She holds up the ripped, yellow sticky-note between two fingers as if tempting me to come get it.
“Yeah, that’s what I was looking for,” I answer embarrassedly. “Sorry that I went snooping in your...”
Her face lights up, and she excitedly cuts me off and leaps up from the couch.
“Maria, that’s wonderful!” she gushes, and she crosses the apartment in a flash and hugs me tightly. “Look at yourself! Seriously, look at what you’re doing! You’re calling a guy!”
“I... well, maybe?” I stammer. Truthfully, I hadn’t planned that far ahead. I just... well, what else do I want his number for if I’m not calling him? Why would I even go looking for it? Damn it, I’ve managed to confuse even myself now.
Tina holds out her hand and sitting in her outstretched palm is the tiny shred of yellow paper. As I reach out for it, though, she pulls it back and shakes a finger at me.
“You have to do two things for me if you want it, though!”
I groan. I should’ve known there would be a catch. There always is.
“Number one, you have to promise to tell me what happens.”
“Oh Jesus, Tina! I’m not trying to go on a date; I just want to talk to him!”
“Doesn’t change anything!” she answers in a light, sing-songish voice.
I sigh in exasperation. “Okay. Fair enough—I’ll tell you what happens.”
That should be easy. I just want to talk to him, so there won’t be anything to tell.
“Good,” she chimes happily, and then quietly adds, “For number two: you have to promise to be careful with yourself, okay?”
I roll my eyes at her and scoff.
“Tina... what do you think I’m going to do? Have sex with him? Hell no! I just want to talk to him.”
“I wasn’t talking about sex at all,” she chirps, sticking out her tongue at me, “but the fact that you just considered the option makes me a happy, happy girl.”
She winks at me as she hands me the tiny shred of paper, and then she skips back to the couch and buries herself in her textbook again. I briefly debate continuing the argument—maybe pointing out that I hadn’t considered having sex with Owen whatsoever—but I think better of it in the end. There’s just no winning an argument with Tina.
Instead, I go straight back upstairs and grab my phone.
“Six zero seven...”
I sit cross-legged on the carpet and wrap myself in a blanket as the phone rings. The room suddenly feels very cold to me, and I start to shiver.
One ring... two rings...
My thumb shoots out and disconnects the call.
“Shit... why am I so nervous?” I mutter to myself, but I already know the answer.
I dial his number again, but this time I can’t even get my shaking hand to hit the call button. I grind my teeth in frustration and try to push the nervousness and fear into the back of my mind, but the back of my mind is already full of even scarier emotions.
I can’t do it. I can’t call him.
I curl up on the carpet, frustrated and upset with myself, and I cover my head with the blanket. I want to strangle myself for being so worthless, but instead I just lay on the floor as a wave of humiliation washes over me. Now what am I supposed to do?
I stare down at the little yellow slip of paper, and my spirit lifts as I see his e-mail address.
I can handle that. E-mailing him is so impersonal, so aloof and distanced, that even a wimp like me can do it. I do wonderfully over e-mail because I don’t have to see the other person stare at me.
I still agonize over the e-mail for an entire hour before I finally send it, though.
“Hey... it’s Maria. Just wanted to say hi. What’re you up to this week? Coffee maybe? Let me know.”
I immediately shut off the computer, turn off my phone, and leap into bed. I don’t want to even look for his answer until tomorrow. If I stay up and wait, I’ll worry about the possible responses—all the terrible, hurtful things that he’d never actually say, but could say if he wanted to hurt me—and waste the entire night.
I just want to go to bed proud that I’ve taken my biggest step in seven years.
Wednesday, February 27 – 3:30 PM
Maria
“What the... Maria! What are you doing home so early?”
Tina stares down at me from the top of the stairs, flabbergasted, as I lay on the couch with my homework. I should be sitting in the front right corner of Owen’s classroom right now, trying desperately not to stare at him, but I’m here on the couch instead.
Do I tell Tina the truth? Of course I do—I’m the worst liar ever.
“I skipped statistics today. I figure I’ve got an A so far, and I just... well...”
“You just chickened out and skipped class so you wouldn’t have to see Owen before your date?” interrupts Tina as she hops down the stairs and heads to the kitchen.
I sigh and close my eyes. Aside from that whole ‘date’ thing, she’s pretty much right.
“It’s not a date!”
“Sure, whatever,” answers Tina flippantly from somewhere inside the refrigerator. Bottles clink loudly, and then she reemerges from behind the door with a beer. “You’re just going out for sushi with a guy for no reason at all.”
“It was supposed to be coffee,” I protest weakly.
“And the coffee turned into fish somehow?”
My face flushes and turns bright red, and Tina bursts out laughing. She pops the cap of her beer with a satisfying hiss and then joins me on the couch.
“Seriously though, how’d you get roped into sushi anyway? I’m surprised by you.”
“I don’t know!” I stammer. “I just asked him if he’d like to get coffee and talk, and then... well, next thing I know he’s e-mailing me back about Plum Tree Restaurant and I’m replying yes. It just happened.”
Tina nods and purses her lips thoughtfully.
“Fair enough. What are you wearing?”
I look down at my jeans and back up at her in confusion. I’m sitting right in front of her. What kind of question is this?
“I meant for the date, you dummy!” she groans as she reads my befuddled expression. “You can’t seriously be going out like that!”
“Yes I can, and yes I will,” I fire back. “It’s not a date. I’ll put on a clean shirt if it makes you feel better, though.”
“I’d rather you put on a nice skirt, frankly.”
I shake my head vehemently as my stomach rises into my throat.
�
��Oh come on,” pushes Tina. “Why not? You’ve got really sexy legs, Maria!”
“I haven’t worn a skirt since I was fifteen,” I answer, choking on my words, and I curl up in a ball on the couch.
A disgusting memory of Darren touching me—of him running his hand up my leg—suddenly bursts to life in my mind, and I shake my head to try to chase it away.
“Sorry... bad suggestion,” apologizes Tina. “Wear whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
“I have to shower and get ready,” I say, and I hop off the couch and head for the stairs.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” asks Tina in a nervous, quivering voice. She tries so hard to protect me, and she gets upset with herself when she’s the one who ends up hurting me.
I smile sweetly back at her and shake my head, and she looks relieved. I know she was just trying to help.
“Nah, I’m good. Really. Just getting ready to go.”
“Well, I hope you relax and let yourself have some fun either way. You should be damned proud of yourself for this,” Tina calls up after me.
“I will!” I yell down to her.
Inside, though, I’m scared to death.
––––––––
Plum Tree Restaurant is right on the corner and has a great big sign in the window, but I somehow still walk past it four times before finally noticing it. It’s not quite as embarrassing as when I asked for directions to the Empire State Building while standing directly in front of it, but when Owen pops out the door and waves to me, I still feel humiliated.
“Hey, come on in! Glad you could make it,” he says excitedly, and he holds the door open for me.
“Sorry I’m late. I... well...”
“...walked past the restaurant four times?” he interrupts, finishing my sentence for me.
I nod embarrassedly and feel my face get hot. I want to put a bag over my head and hide.
“I saw you go past the window,” he says quietly with a warm smile. “Relax, we all do it.”
I follow him into the restaurant lobby and the Japanese lady behind the counter waves to us.
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