by Joey Bush
I went down the slope after he’d finished and started to use the techniques and tweaks that Jaxon suggested, pulling my knees up at the point he had told me to, going into grabs the way he’d advised. I had gotten better on the slope itself the day he’d taken me for my first private lesson, but this was miles ahead of that even—I could feel the difference in my control, in the smoothness of my landings as I came out of aerials and grabs. I started showing off as Jaxon and I took turns going through the track, trying new things—things I wasn’t even sure I could properly land. The cushions and foam blocks in the gullies of the ramps made it easier to take the risk; if I fell I probably wouldn’t break anything important.
We had a great time, both of us laughing and cracking jokes, giving each other shit and fooling around just as much as we practiced. Jaxon grabbed me as I finished a run, lifting me up into his arms and kissing me; we tried going down at the same time, doing a tandem routine. It was so much fun we tried it a few more times, one of us taking the low while the other did outrageous aerials and then switching it up on the next run. “You’re doing great,” Jaxon told me while we ate our lunch and rested up. “It’s like you improved 100% overnight!” I blushed and grinned, only too happy to be doing so much better with the tweaks he had given me.
Jaxon and I kept going until the rest of the team got there; we took a break while everyone was catching up, while the coaches and trainers were discussing strategy for the upcoming tournament. It would be a bigger one, with a lot more publicity; but ultimately, they explained, the points themselves were the same.
We fell into practicing with our groups and, for once, I didn’t have to watch Jaxon surreptitiously—I could watch him outright, shout out a compliment when he landed a particularly sick aerial, or laugh when he botched a landing and ended up in the foam pit. We both kept most of our focus on our own activities; I did cross-training and went down the slope, and everyone in my division on the team complimented my sudden improvement. “Getting laid was good for her,” someone joked.
“No, getting private lessons from the best boarder on the team was,” I shot back, grinning.
“Not the best for long—someone’s grabbing your place with an inside job, Jax.”
We got through the practice and talked about the plans for the meet while everyone was chilling and resting afterward. I told myself that I would hit the gym between practice and the tournament, but not so close that my muscles would still be torn down when we went out. Of course, the coaches told all of us to rest up, to make sure we were getting good carbs in our systems and lots of protein to have staying power and to have strong muscles once it came to tournament day. Someone on the team offered to make snacks, and others were put on coffee duty for when we got onto the bus to head out to the competition.
Jaxon and I left together, heading back to the campus to hit up the dining hall. I invited him to spend the night in my dorm—after all, I did have to be there at least a few nights out of the week—and we spent the night studying, watching the game, and just hanging out. It was such a relief to finally have him how I wanted him, to not have to worry and to really get the full benefits of being close to Jaxon, that I didn’t even think about the inevitable downside of what would happen when the general knowledge of us being together got out—when it wasn’t just our classmates and teammates who knew that we were an established item but everyone who knew us, including our parents. That was an issue for another day, and I certainly wasn’t in the mood to worry about it when I could just enjoy my time with Jaxon. I was going to have as much sex as I wanted with him, and spend as much time as I wanted with him and with my friends in Phi Kappa, and when it eventually came up, we’d both deal with it the best way that we could. Life was too short to worry about it.
Chapter Six
In spite of being mentally prepared for the fact that I’d have to wake up early Friday morning for the tournament, when Jaxon’s phone blasted Muse’s “Supermassive Black Hole” to wake us up before it was even dawn, so we could make it to the bus in time, my whole body felt like lead. I was normally an early riser, but something about an alarm always made it hard to get up—and the night before we’d been up later than we should have been, cuddling and fooling around in bed. I’d packed my gear before coming over for the night, since we had both decided that it would be easier if we were in the same place in the morning.
We grabbed a quick breakfast—protein shakes and a peanut butter banana wrap—and grabbed our gear from Jaxon’s room. It was cold as hell outside but we made it across campus just in time to get some coffee from one of our teammates before we loaded our stuff onto the bus and climbed in. Everyone was excited, in spite of the dark gray skies and the cutting cold. I snuggled close to Jaxon and we both got into joking with everyone else, making bets about who would get injured that day—there was always someone at these tournaments—and who would be the standout in each division. There were rumors about some of the bigger names in the extreme sports community who might be coming out for the tournament—obviously none of the pros would be there, since they had bigger fish to fry, but there were some up-and-comers who would probably be right up against us.
The coaches lectured us as we got closer to the mountain where the tournament was going to be happening. “All right, you guys have all been doing really well in practices since the last meet, and you all did pretty well at that tournament, but it bears repeating: no tricks you don’t already know you can do. I know it’s a temptation—I totally get it. But landing a trick cleanly is better than wowing the judges and breaking a leg.” We all laughed and I knew that Jaxon for one was going to more or less completely ignore the advice.
I was feeling more confident than ever. The tweaks and the tricks that Jaxon had given me were already starting to show promise; even if I’d felt defensive when he’d started critiquing my style and my action on the slopes, it was easy to see that he was right. And I had to admit that being defensive when someone who’d been on a board longer than me, who was better than me objectively, was silly. I was just glad that I hadn’t let my cockiness and defensiveness get between me and what Jaxon wanted to teach me.
The bus ride was long; the site for the meet was farther away from the campus than the first one had been, and we’d even discussed heading up the night before just so we wouldn’t have to make the trek early in the morning; but we couldn’t pool together enough money to get everyone into a hotel, and we damn sure weren’t going to all sleep on the bus.
Everyone was buzzing with caffeine and adrenaline by the time we got to the tournament. I was practically ready to jump out of my seat, full of sugar and coffee and chocolate from the ride. One thing for sure: between the snacks one of the members of the team had made and the food and drinks available at the tournament no one had any real excuse to go hungry.
It was obvious from the moment we all stepped off of the bus that this was a much bigger tournament. There were journalists from all the major magazines and channels that covered snowboarding, there were tons more people, and we found out within a few minutes that we’d be up against a lot more competitors. Just like in the first tournament, there was a slopestyle section, a big air section, and a half-pipe competition, and we were all signed up for all three—except for one or two of us who were specializing. We all wanted as many points as we could possibly get for the team, so that we would have a chance later on in the season of getting to the big final tournaments, where there would be serious competition and even some pros on the docket.
We wandered around, gearing up and checking out the different merch stalls, getting our nerves under control. We would all get a few practice runs on the slopes, on the half pipe and the big air courses before the competition got underway. I watched Jaxon do his practice run and cheered him on, getting more and more excited about the day.
When I went down on my practice runs, I got a feel for the conditions; it was a little firmer than I was used to, but it would be easy to get my rhythm. I was m
ore confident than ever—I tried some of the tricks that Jaxon taught me on my practice go-throughs, and the tweaks to my tricks and aerials were starting to settle into habits.
Even better than the fact that I was a stronger boarder than ever, I was excited by the fact that I at least wouldn’t be driven to distraction by Jaxon’s presence. I could cheer him on, I could enjoy watching him, and I could go about my performances without obsessing about him. It was going to be a great day—and I knew I was going to rock it out.
Like before, Jaxon went up first; his division was scheduled for the slope course, and then he would move to the half-pipe. I was going to be on the big air course shortly after he completed his first run. I cheered him on from the sidelines, screaming my head off for him. Jaxon met my gaze and grinned at me, and I knew he was going to hit it as hard as he could.
We’d spent the whole ride up to the mountain planning our strategies. There were a couple of tricks that I’d only really started nailing when I’d been in practice earlier in the week; I was fully planning to use the tweaks that Jaxon had taught me on the mountain and in the practice space to make them worth the risk. I wasn’t going to go hard the way that Jax was, but I was more than a little bit optimistic about my chances. I would be taking home the gold that day, I told myself firmly over and over again.
Jaxon’s run on the slope made everyone gasp and cheer—me even among the rest. Even knowing how good he was, the air he got, the tricks he pulled off, were exciting. Unless he really messed up during the day, I knew he was going to end up first in his division again.
Before long, I was up; I hurried over to the big air track, and I focused down. It was so much easier to concentrate on what I wanted to do when I didn’t have Jaxon on my mind, when I knew that he was there, that I could spend time with him whenever I wanted. I hit the course hard, using the tricks that Jaxon had taught me, and I heard him screaming for me on the sidelines; it was less distracting than I would have thought. I hit the ramp and brought my knees up as high and fast as I possibly could. I landed cleaner, more steadily than I ever have before in competition in my life.
The day became kind of a blur; I got to spend a little time with Jaxon but between the two of us and the rest of the members of our team, we were constantly either going to watch someone on their run, getting ready to queue up for our own events, or grabbing something to eat or drink in between. Jaxon managed to steal a quick kiss before his first half-pipe run, and I hugged him tightly before I went to do my second go-through on the slope.
I kept loose track of how I was doing through the day, even though like before I wasn’t paying so much attention to my specific scores. The important thing to me was that I did better than I had the first time; I’d managed a second-place finish in my division at the first tournament and I wanted more than anything to close out the day in first. Not being distracted, having a better feel for the tricks and the way I was going to land them, I could feel it in my bones that I was going to be very close to the top, if I didn’t manage to take the gold.
I told myself that if I didn’t land squarely in first place, I wasn’t going to sweat it too much—second place was still respectable, especially early in the season, and I would still have a good chance of making it to the late regional competitions. The important thing was to score enough points to keep the team in the top ten rankings. I watched the other members of the team competing and had to admit to myself that even if one of the other girls in my division managed to squeak out a lead on me, it wouldn’t be a shame—we had all gotten better.
By the end of the day I was exhausted, and we were all milling around the competitor areas in the sidelines, waiting while the judges tallied up the different events’ points. Each of the people competing had three separate runs in each event, and the final score would be an average of the three; other competitions scored differently, with cumulative points instead of averages, or best single run score being the one that determined placement. Even if most of us just got into the top ten, it would be enough points overall for the tournament for us to have a fighting chance at later, more prestigious meets—but I have never been a “team player” kind of girl; I’ve always been more of a “rising tide lifts all boats” type. I wanted to be the very best, and I wasn’t just going to sit back and gain points for my team when I could place in the top three.
We all listened as they announced the individual event winners, grabbing our spots on the podium and taking our trophies and medals; Jaxon, of course, scored in the top for all three of his events, taking the podium four times total and ending up with a neck full of medals and a huge trophy. When they started calling my division, I snagged first place in the Slope and Half-pipe events, and second in the Big Air; it wasn’t quite as good as Jaxon, but it was still enough to leave me in contention for the first or second place for my entire division. No one from the team placed outside of the top ten in their divisions, and we were all delirious as they called out the overall winners. Jaxon took his spot at the top, with the gold, and I screamed my head off for him, louder and prouder than anyone else on the team.
I was not quite surprised but still thrilled when they came to my division’s overall; if one of the girls had eked out sufficient points overall, even with my two first-place wins, I might have ended up in second again—but instead I took the overall gold. In the crowd of our teammates, I heard Jaxon screaming for me just like I had screamed for him, chanting my name with everyone else.
I was thrilled, I was absolutely full of adrenaline and giddy with excitement as I stepped off of the podium with my three gold medals and one silver, my big trophy in my hands, heading back to the team. Everyone was cheering; we didn’t have any contenders in the other divisions to worry about or listen for. I ran up to Jaxon, spotting him just apart from the rest of our group.
I put up with everyone slapping me on the back and saying that Jaxon and I were carrying the team; all I wanted though was to get him alone for just a few minutes. “Congrats, Mia,” Jaxon said, his bright eyes full of warmth and pride. “You nailed every last thing I taught you.”
“You’re a pretty damn good teacher,” I told him, grinning up. “Come on; let’s go somewhere people aren’t screaming in our ears.” No one paid us much attention as we wandered away from the group; they were so busy shouting and cheering for our position as frontrunners in the overall scheme of the system that they didn’t miss two people out of the team being away. I knew they’d all head over to the lodge soon enough and probably there’d be beers and hot chocolate, maybe a team dinner before we hit the road to go back to campus for the weekend. But there wouldn’t be another golden opportunity to get Jaxon to myself like there was right now.
“Seriously, Mia, you were great,” Jaxon told me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I knew we were still technically in the middle of a public place, but the only people who knew us at the tournament were our team mates, and as comparatively quiet as it was over by the stands, out of the areas where the teams and individual competitors were celebrating their wins, it was easy to forget anyone else was there at all. I stood up on the balls of my feet and wrapped my arms around Jaxon’s shoulders.
“I’ve been waiting all day for a chance to kiss you,” I told him. Jaxon laughed and leaned in, closing the last distance between us. I melted into him, kissing him back hungrily. I could taste the hot chocolate on his lips still, feel the heat of his body underneath his gear. I couldn’t wait until we were really, truly alone—in my dorm room or in his room at the frat house, where we could celebrate our victories together.
But I knew that even with everyone driven distracted by the victory we’d eked out for the day, they’d miss us soon enough and I didn’t want to have to deal with the teasing that would come along with them finding us making out over by the stands. I started to break away slowly; even if I wanted to go back, Jaxon drew me in, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to stop kissing him. I was just about to slither free of his arms when I heard my name.<
br />
“Mia! Mia you were great!” I felt as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on me when I recognized my mom’s voice calling my name. An instant later, still wrapped up in the embrace, I heard a gasp. I broke out of Jaxon’s arms and turned around to see my mom and Bob walking towards us. They had stopped short in their tracks, and I could see the look of revolted horror on Bob’s face as he stared at the two of us. For just a second, I thought to myself that maybe we could play it off. Maybe I was imagining things. But when I looked at my mom, I could see that she was just as shocked—though not entirely as revolted—as Bob was, staring at me with her eyes full of unpleasant surprise.
“Shit,” I muttered, standing there just inches away from Jaxon and staring at our parents, staring at us. There was no way to hide what we had just been doing. There was no way at all to deny what had happened. The thing I had refused to think about for the last week or so had finally come crashing down and there was no way out of it.
Chapter Seven
For what seemed like an hour we all stood there, staring at each other in abject horror, and I wondered if time had frozen in the frigid temperatures. My mind was reeling—what were Jaxon and I going to do? How were we going to make this okay? What the hell were our parents doing there? I couldn’t even hear the crowd over the roaring of my blood in my ears and the pounding of my heart in my chest.
The awards part of the tournament was winding down, and looking around in my panic I saw that some of the people were starting to leave the stands, heading to their cars or to the lodges in the area. I knew that the members of our team would come looking for us at any moment—and sure enough, even while we were all standing there, none of us speaking, all of us buried in the most awkward moment of the last couple of months, the team came by. “Oh, these are our parents,” I said quickly. “They’re…we’ll catch up.” I caught a sympathetic glance from one of our teammates while they slunk away.
