by Annie Bryant
“Are Kazie’s parents divorced too?” I asked when we were seated in the rocking car.
“Actually, Kazie’s dad died in a car accident when she was three.”
“Oh,” I said. I suddenly felt really sorry for Kazie. “You know my friend Charlotte? Her mom died when she was little too.” I leaned against Dad, and he put his arm around me. Even though I didn’t say anything, I knew he understood that I felt really lucky to have both my parents, even if I couldn’t see them at the same time.
“Andie’s a fantastic mom, though. She’s raised Kazie all on her own and works full-time. She’s helped friends open sporting goods stores in seven different states—even in New Hampshire, where Andie’s from. Andie says she’s a ski bum for life, but she’s really talented at what she does. You know, skiing and working. And being a mom.”
Dad sure did have a lot of nice things to say about Andie. I couldn’t help feeling bad for my mom a little. I mean, Dad and Mom were friends and all, but still … “Is that why Kazie’s so good at boarding?” I asked. “Getting to go all the time?”
“Well … it certainly doesn’t hurt. You only ride a few weeks a year, and you’re still an awesome boarder. That says something, Avery.” We passed the sign that said “Ski Tips UP” and I flipped up the safety bar on the chair. Dad pulled on his goggles. “Shreddy Freddy?”
I smiled. “You bet!”
The halfpipe looked like, well, half of a pipe—prime for tricks and turns. The snow had been groomed carefully into two steep sides with a rounded center. I watched Dad sail down the pipe riding fakie, zip up the other side, catch big air, turn, and slide down. He looked up at me from the bottom.
This was it—no hesitation. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and cried “GERONIMO!” at the top of my lungs. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it could burst out of my chest. I went right up the side of the pipe, picking up speed till I popped into the air—really flying. I grabbed the nose of my board, getting perfect slob air, and gravity pulled me back to the icy wall. I switched my stance and slid downhill riding backward, then popped up in the air from the other side. I landed again without turning—BAM—an air-to-fakie. Avery Madden, Snowboarding Superstar, was BACK!
The rest of the way down the pipe was easy. I flew up the wall, made a clean alley-oop, rotating 180 degrees, and slid back down.
I sailed through the bottom of the pipe with both arms in the air. When I stopped, I heard a voice behind me say, “That’s my girl. You’ve always been a natural.” Dad had been watching me the whole time. I felt a warm glow inside that got bigger and bigger and spread through my entire body. “Time for a hot chocolate break?” he asked.
“Big time!” I looked up at Dad in his funny hat. This “quality time” thing was turning out to be super fun after all. “By the way, Dad, my new board is wicked cool!”
He grinned. “Ahh, wicked, huh?” Wicked was one of my best funny Boston words, and Dad hadn’t been to Boston in a long time.
We unsnapped our boards and headed to the Village. We could definitely handle an early lunch.
CHAPTER
6
Eggplant
It was late afternoon by the time Dad and I got back from the slopes. I could see Marty’s tail wagging from his window seat when we pulled in the driveway. I opened the door and ran inside with my boots still on. “Marty … I’m hoooooome!” I called.
Marty leaped into my arms and licked my face.
“Looks like the Abominable Snow Monster paid us a visit today,” Dad said.
I turned and saw the trail of white chunks that my boots had left on the wooden floor. “Ooops! Can’t take ’em off though! I still gotta walk Marty.”
I knew that Marty was full of saved-up energy. He ran so fast around the block that we had to go around again. On round two, I demonstrated some of my halfpipe moves on little snow mounds along the sidewalk. “What do you think about this one, huh Marty man?” I slid off the pile backward and grabbed my feet. “That’s called a grab. It looks a lot cooler on a board.”
Marty spun around twice on the ground to show me he had been working on his moves too. “Not bad … not bad at all!” I told him. Maybe the dog-on-snowboard thing could work out after all.
When we returned home, the air was full of delicious dinner scents. “Savory,” as Scott would say—the word he used to describe things that were tasty from flavor instead of sweetness.
“How did you make it smell so awesome in such a short time, Dad?”
“Funny you should ask. Actually, I keep twelve tiny cooks in the basement.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dad joke alert!” I warned.
“Okay, okay. I grabbed a frozen eggplant lasagna from the freezer. Made it myself a few days ago.”
While Dad cooked, I ran upstairs to take a shower. I’d just gotten back to the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” I called. I started down the hallway. Halfway there, the door burst open, sending in a gust of cold air and snow.
“Yoo-hoo, Jake, it’s us.” Andie poked her head around the door. She looked different from when I met her at the store. Her hair was really long and curly and her eyelashes looked longer and darker too. “Hey there, Avery!” Andie gave me a hug and kissed me on the cheek. Um … did she know you weren’t supposed to hug strangers? Andie walked past me and into the kitchen, carrying a plate covered with foil.
Kazie stood frozen in the doorway for a second. She was carrying something too … something furry. “Like kitties?” she asked with a half smile. I stared at the large black-and-gray-striped creature twisting in her arms. That was no kitten. It was, without a doubt, the biggest cat I’d ever seen. “Meet Farkle,” Kazie announced.
Farkle snarled at me, looking googley-eyed and loony. It took me a second to realize why. His eyes were two different colors! The left one was blue and the right one was gold. One of his ears stuck up and the other was squished down on his head. Farkle made a screeching meow when Kazie placed him on the floor. He stretched out his giant paws with SIX toes on each! Whoa. This was one spooky cat.
“He’s part Maine Coon,” Kazie told me proudly. “Some of ‘em have extra toes.”
“He’s ginormous!” I reached out to pet him, but Farkle pulled his head away and made the weirdest sound ever.
“ROOOOOOOW, YEOOOOOOW.”
Kazie laughed. “I wouldn’t get too close if I were you. Farkle really only likes me.”
I wondered what Farkle thought about other pets. “Um, I have a dog,” I said. “But Marty’s super people-friendly.”
Kazie looked horrified. “You have a dog?”
“Yeah, he’s the man. You want to meet him?”
“Yo, Avery, just so you know, this could be really bad news …” Kazie warned, but I pretended not to hear her. Marty loved kids and he’d never been afraid of cats before.
“Marty!” I called. Marty trotted into the room to see what was happening. “Hey there, lil’ guy. This is Kazie and Farkle. Say hello!” I expected Marty to stand on his hind legs—his usual showoff trick, but Marty didn’t move. Instead, Farkle was the one to slink closer, glaring at Marty with those freaky-deaky, multicolored eyes. Marty backed up. The hair on his back stood straight up. So did his ears and tail. Even his little legs were trembling!
Farkle the Franken-cat made the same horrible noise. “Rooooooow, yeoooooow.”
That did it. Marty bounded off in the other direction, scrambled into the family room, and crawled underneath the sofa. My mouth hung open. Marty … a scaredy-cat? What was wrong with this picture?!
Kazie’s mouth curled a little. It wasn’t a smile … but not quite a frown either. She totally thought this was funny. “Told you,” she said with a shrug. Farkle suddenly raced into the kitchen, and Kazie followed him.
Andie just groaned as Farkle skidded to a stop inside the kitchen doorway. “Honestly, Kazie. When are you going to let me call in an animal tamer for Farkle?” She turned to me. “I don’t get what sh
e sees in that cat. Personally, it gives me the heebie-jeebies!” Maybe Andie isn’t so bad after all, I thought.
Kazie looked annoyed. “Farkle’s a he, not an it, Mom. And he’s actually really sweet. You just don’t know how to handle him.”
Dad walked over with a tray of drinks, ignoring the possible dog-cat war. “Who wants a root beer float? I know someone in here does!”
Kazie squealed. “Sweet, dude! Jake the Snake, you remembered my fave!” She grabbed one of the glasses filled with ice cream and root beer.
“Here you go, Ave.” Dad held the tray in front of me.
“No thanks, Dad. You know I don’t really like soda.”
Dad glanced at Andie. “Still? I thought …”
“You don’t like soda?” Kazie interrupted. “Who doesn’t like soda?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. Soda just tastes funny to me.” I walked over to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of spring water, and took a big swig.
“Avery’s a really healthy eater, right Ave?” Dad explained. “That’s why I made vegetarian lasagna.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone. You don’t like meat, either?” Kazie stared at me like I was from another planet or something.
“I like some meat. I eat turkey wraps all the time,” I told Kazie. “Just not usually steak. I mean of course I like Fat Alley burgers—”
“OMG, I live on them!” Kazie took a long slurp of her float. “How could you not like meat?” she repeated.
“I said—” I began, but Dad interrupted.
“Ladies and … well … ladies. Dinner is served,” he announced. He looked so proud of himself that Kazie, Andie, and I all cracked up.
“Yes, master chef. Merci!” Andie replied.
Sitting down to dinner at the table in the family room was a relief. Everyone filled their plates and dug in.
“This is off-the-hook delish, Snurfman … way better than Mom’s,” Kazie said with her mouth full of eggplant.
“Hey!” Andie warned playfully.
“Dad’s an awesome cook,” I told them. “So is my big brother Scott. He’s actually at culinary school right now…. Or else he’d be here now. My mom’s definitely more of a takeout type.”
“Mine too,” agreed Kazie.
Andie blushed. “I hear you’re a quite a good boarder, Avery,” she said, probably wanting to change the subject. “Are you going to enter the competition?”
“Already did!” I exclaimed.
Kazie took a bite of garlic bread and licked the butter off her fingers. “Right on. Snurfer Competition, hollaaa! I’m going for number one. Check out my Donnie Keeler impression.” She jumped up and did a ho-ho, planting both hands on her pretend snowboard.
“Not during dinner, Kazie!” Andie shook her head and sighed. “I’ve never had that much energy in my entire life. I don’t know where she gets it.”
I didn’t know either. And also, if Kazie was in the same division as me, I didn’t know if I had a prayer at the Snurfer. At least not after what I’d seen today.
“Don’t move,” Andie said when everyone had finished the main course. “I brought dessert.”
Andie ran to the kitchen and returned with the large foil-covered platter. She put down the plate and took off the foil. Dessert was … cheese?
“Here ve go. Ze plate of ze fabulouso cheeses of ze vorld!” Andie declared in a funny fake accent.
Kazie didn’t look happy though. “Party foul, Mom!” she groaned. “I thought you were bringing cheesecake … not cheese. This is soooo not a dessert. Right, Avery?”
“Um … um …” I stuttered. I had to admit though, I agreed with Kazie. Cheese for dessert? No way.
“I didn’t have time for cheesecake, Kazie,” Andie explained, even though she was looking at Dad. “Besides, you like cheese. Don’t you like cheese, Avery?”
I looked at the plate full of strange, colorful cheeses. “Only on sandwiches and pizza,” I answered. Hey, I couldn’t lie to her.
“Ha! See, Mom. Told you.”
“I bet I can solve this problem.” Dad dug in his pocket and pulled out some bills. “Why don’t you girls walk down to The Sweet Life and get some ice cream?” Dad handed the money to Kazie.
I swallowed. I knew Kazie was sitting closer to Dad, but still … couldn’t he just split the money and give us each enough to pay for ourselves? I mean, just because Kazie was a year older than me, it didn’t mean she was my babysitter.
“I’m going to take Marty along for the walk. He’s not usually this shy.” I got up to find Marty, who was still cowering under the big red couch. Sitting on top of the cushion, like a king on his throne, was Franken-Farkle, washing his giant mutant paws with his tongue. He took one look at me and hissed.
Kazie walked in and started to laugh. “Farkle, Farkle, bad kitty. Did Wittle Farkle Warkle scare Marty?”
“Marty’s not scared,” I defended him, quickly adding, “he’s just not used to the Colorado weather. He’s probably cold, and it’s warm under there, near the heating vent. Yeah. He’s cold is all.”
“Doesn’t it get cold in Boston?” Kazie smiled at me. “Come on, leave him here. I’m leaving Farkle.”
Kazie left the room and snapped open her cell phone. I looked under the sofa and sighed. I really didn’t want to leave Marty with Farkle, the demented feline from the Black Lagoon. But I knew that there was no way I’d be able to coax him out from his hiding place. At least not with “Wittle Farkle Warkle” around.
Kazie came back in the room. “Great news. I just called my friends and they’re going to meet us at The Sweet Life.”
“You called your friends?” Be quiet, Avery! I told myself. I sounded like an echo. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to hang out at The Sweet Life with Kazie, much less all of her friends.
“Sure. They’re way cool. You’ll love ’em.” Kazie grabbed her coat, and headed for the door. “Come on, Avery. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER
7
Mute Air
Cool headband,” Kazie said as she and I walked toward town.
“Headband?” I reached up and felt my Kgirl ear warmer. “Oh, yeah. Thanks. My friend Katani made it for me especially for this trip.”
“Nice. Hey, I bet we could sell those at ATS. I know how to put in orders of like, any model. You see my helmet today? That was all me. A KZ original!” Whoa, was this girl taking over my life?
“Well I don’t think my friend would like it if I just copied her design and sold it. This, um, headband is a Kgirl original.”
“Kgirl original?” Kazie laughed. “Sounds like she copied me already.”
I was about to point out that Katani didn’t even know her, but suddenly a kid shouted from across the street. “Yo, Crazie Kaz!”
“Hey, Jimbo!” Kazie waved, then turned to me and explained, “He’s part of my crew. What was I saying? Oh, yeah. Jake lets me design all sorts of stuff for ATS. It’s sooo easy. I just look through the catalog and choose the color and pattern. Like the snowboard I made for the Snurfer Competition. It’s totally off the hook! Okay, ready?” Kazie jumped in front of me and spread her arms out in front of my face like there was a big invisible snowboard there. “Bright red, freestyle shape with the letters ATS on the front and back. It’s the official ATS board for the season. How sick is that going to be to race on?” Kazie slipped ahead and pretended to board along the sidewalk.
I felt kind of dizzy. My new snowboard was a KZ original? Dad hadn’t ever let me make designs for him before. Not that I was into that kind of thing, stick figures being my best artwork. But still, he hadn’t even asked me! Since when did he let kids make ATS snowboards? And why did he think I’d want a KZ original anyway? Suddenly I got a funny feeling in my stomach.
“My dad gave me one of those ATS boards, actually,” I said carefully to Kazie. “It’s a pretty good ride.” It was better than a pretty good ride. It was downright awesome. But that was the board … NOT Kazie’s so-called “design.” “So I guess we’ll b
e racing on the same board then,” I went on, quickly, trying to stay cool. “Hope we don’t get them confused, right?” I knew I should be polite, but I felt like my mouth was just running out of control. It always did that when I was starting to get angry.
Kazie slid across a frozen puddle. “No way, man,” she laughed, “I’m goofy-footed. My bindings are on the opposite side as yours.” Maybe that’s why they called her Crazie Kazie. Goofy-footed Kazie was a right-foot-forward girl. “Plus your bindings are closer together than mine. So don’t worry—we’ll never get mixed up.”
“Shred Betty!” someone called from a car passing by. “Nice moves today!”
Geesh, how many names does this girl have? I wondered.
Kazie gave the car a double thumbs-up and kept fake boarding down the sidewalk.
“I guess everyone knows you in Telluride.” I hoped I didn’t sound jealous.
“That’s nothing. Coaches come to the mountain all the time to watch me. It can be annoying … like I always have to be trying my best, you know?”
“You’re lucky!” I said. “I’d love it if coaches came to watch me board. But I only see my dad for a little bit in the winter so …”
“You’re the one who’s lucky. Jake’s a sick boarder. I bet it’s way awesome to have him as a dad.” Kazie’s voice was quieter than usual. She stopped sliding around and looked at me.
“It is,” I replied. “My dad—”
But she quickly interrupted. “My dad was an awesome skier though.” She went back to practicing.
“Yeah?”
“Totally. He could have gone to the Olympics. Would have, I mean.”
“Wow,” I murmured. Hanging out with Kazie was sort of stressful compared to the BSG. I never knew the right thing, or the cool thing, to say, but here I was feeling … well … bad for her. “Do you miss him?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” Kazie said quietly. Then she jumped on a snow bank and got loud again. “But whatever. I’ve got plenty of people in my life … believe me.”
