Freestyle with Avery

by Annie Bryant

  Jason held up his hand for Frankie to slap. “Okay, buddy. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yay!” Frankie jumped up and down and clapped. “Let’s go play Monopoly. C’mon. You’re gonna be the thimble.” Frankie grabbed one of Jason’s hands and started to lead him out of the room.

  “You want to hang out tomorrow?” Jason called over his shoulder.

  “Sure! You can meet Marty.”

  CHAPTER

  10

  Transition

  Please don’t let Kazie and Andie still be here, I thought to myself when we pulled into Dad’s driveway. Just in case I was in a teeny, tiny bit of trouble—the last thing I wanted was for Andie and Kazie to witness it.

  “Thanks so much for the ride, Bonnie,” I said.

  “You’re welcome. Stop by our place anytime. You know …” Bonnie began quietly, “I’m glad you came over tonight. Jason’s a great kid, but he’s so shy … he ends up spending a lot of time alone. It’s tough to be the new kid somewhere, and I’m glad he’s finally found a friend.”

  “Me too,” I told her. I was definitely not the new kid in Telluride, technically speaking, but for some reason having Kazie around made me feel like I was … and it wasn’t fun. But hanging out with Radley, Ollie, and especially Jason, well, that was awesome. “Tell Jason thanks for me. I’ll see you around, Bonnie!” I exclaimed as I hopped out of the car.

  Uh-oh. The first face I saw when the door to my house opened was Dad’s, and it wasn’t a happy one. But the faces behind him—Kazie, Andie, and (ugh) Farkle—were way worse. And everyone was giving me the exact same look—the one that went: Avery Madden … tsk, tsk, tsk. Except Kazie. She wouldn’t look at me at all.

  The room was so quiet that I could literally hear the zipper buzzing as I took off my coat. Zzzzzzzzzip. “Hey, everybody, what’s up?” I asked. “Have a good night … ?” Rats! My happy talk wasn’t making people forget they were mad at me. If anything, Dad’s frown only got bigger.

  “Avery,” he said, “why did you leave Kazie like that in the ice cream shop? Don’t you think you might owe her an apology?”

  Not really, I thought, remembering the racing joke she pulled on the way there. But I figured there was no way around apologizing, especially with Dad right there. “I’m sorry, Kazie. And I’m really sorry, Dad. I meant to call you when I got to Jason’s but I totally forgot when I saw his, um … ferret. Yeah, that’s it, his ferret, and I just forgot.” Well, that was believable … NOT! Kazie rolled her eyes and Dad glanced at Andie.

  “She’s all right. And that’s what matters, Jake,” Andie told Dad quietly.

  “Yeah! I’m fine. I was fine all along …” I agreed, suddenly liking this Andie lady a little bit more.

  Dad nodded at Andie. “Thanks for sticking around. I think I need to have a one-on-one with my daughter now.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning,” Andie said with a smile. She put on her coat. Then, my night went from weird to weirder. She actually kissed Dad on the cheek. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, he kissed her right back.

  Kazie groaned and made a gagging sound but I just looked away. He was my dad, for crying out loud! At least Kazie and I were on the same page about kissing parents.

  “Good night, Avery. It was nice to see you again,” Andie said.

  “You too,” I muttered. If she thought I was kissing her cheek she had another think coming. No way, José! Kazie stomped off and let the door slam behind her. I was just happy to see Farkle the Franken-cat leave so Marty could finally relax.

  I thought it would be a relief to finally have Dad back to myself. Unfortunately, he seemed just as annoyed.

  “I’m so, so sorry, Dad. I promise it was an accident. I swear on … on snowboarding!” That made a smile creep onto Dad’s face. A little one, but still, better than nothing.

  “I know you’re growing up, Avery, and I’m not exactly sure what your mom’s rules are in Boston, but here in Telluride you need to let me know where you are. Especially at night. Kazie always tells Andie exactly where she is and who she’s with. I expect the same from you.”

  I knew Dad was right, but I didn’t like being compared to Crazie Kazie. To tell the truth, I was sick of her name coming up all the time. Besides, it was an honest mistake. And that mistake might not have even happened if Kazie’d been nicer to me at The Sweet Life. But how was I supposed to tell Dad that?

  Dad started washing the dishes in the sink and handed them to me to dry. “So tell me about your new friend,” he said. “What’s his name … Jason? From what Kazie says, he’s kind of a man of mystery … if you will.” Dad nudged me in the arm.

  I stared hard at the dish I was drying.

  “Avery?” Dad prompted me.

  “What?” I sounded startled. I wanted to tell Dad about Jason but the words just weren’t coming. It was embarrassing, and I wasn’t sure why. “I don’t know. He’s nice. He likes animals, like me. He doesn’t know a lot of kids here yet.”

  “Kazie loves animals,” Dad pointed out. Who cares what Crazie Kazie thinks about animals? Why was Dad obsessed with making sure that Kazie and I liked all the same things? “She did bring Farkle. Marty must be happy to have a new friend,” Dad added with a wink. We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “Pleeeease, Dad. Farkle and Marty? You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s like me hanging out with Anna and Joline. It’s just not gonna happen.”

  Dad laughed. He knew all about the Queens of Mean. Farkle was the Feline King of Mean—that was for sure! Dad gave me a big hug. “I want you to feel completely at home here … always. Just make sure that next time you tell me before you go somewhere, okay?”

  “Okay,” I promised. “Dad … there’s one more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, I think that it would be a lot easier for Jason to make friends in Telluride if he knew how to snowboard. But he hasn’t lived here very long and he’s never tried it before. I know that snowboarding can be expensive … so I was thinking maybe there’s some way we could help him? I know he’d want to help out in return.” Jason didn’t seem like the type to accept a handout. “I was just thinking he could borrow a snowboard … like for the day or something just to try it out.”

  Dad shrugged. “It’s no problem. I can always use an extra hand with inventory. He can come in the morning at nine a.m. But are you sure that this is what Jason wants, Avery?”

  “Please, Dad! He lives in Colorado! Every kid in Colorado needs to snowboard. That’d be like … like, um … like living in Hawaii and not being able to surf.”

  Dad rolled his eyes, but he was totally not mad anymore. “Okay, Avery.”

  “Or like living in Boston and hating the Red Sox.”

  “Don’t even go there!” Dad laughed and started pushing me to the stairs to get ready for bed.

  But I was just getting started. “Or living in the North Pole and hating reindeer. Or—”

  “I get the picture,” he said and plopped a furry little ball in my arms.

  “Marty!”

  Marty made a yelpy noise that I’d never heard before. He kept looking frantically around the room and then up at me. “Don’t worry, little dude,” I assured him. “Farkle’s gone. We’re safe now.”

  “Okay, Avery, good night,” Dad said and tried to send me off with a hug, but I was too quick and dodged it instead.

  “Time out! Can I call Jason super quick before I go to bed? Please?”

  Dad tapped his watch, but handed me the phone and a phonebook to look up Fred and Bonnie Hulbert. I flipped through the pages and crossed my fingers that I had the right one. After three rings, someone picked up.

  “Herr-ow,” said a kid at the other end.

  “Um, hi. Is Jason there?”

  “Who is it?” asked the kid.

  “It’s Avery … is this Frankie?”

  “Mooooooom!” he suddenly shouted, and then I heard a “BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!” He hung up on me.
Whoa.

  I sighed and waited a minute before clicking on the phone again to redial the number. But when I did there wasn’t any dial tone.

  “Hello?” This voice still belonged to a boy, but older this time.

  “Jason?” I asked hopefully.

  “Avery?”

  I laughed. “Whoa! It’s so weird that you called! I just tried to call you but Frankie accidentally hung up on me. At least, I think it was an accident.”

  “Actually … I figured it was you when I saw Madden on the caller ID.”

  Duh! “Oh, right.” I took a deep breath and cut to the chase. “All right, you remember how I was telling you about snowboarding tonight?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay. Well, I was talking to my dad and he said he needed some help with inventory this weekend. If you worked, he’d loan out a snowboard, and you could see what you think. We could even go tomorrow … if you want.”

  Silence.

  “Jason?”

  “Wow. That’s really nice of you Avery, but …”

  Oh, no. Was he offended that I was trying to offer him a job? “If you don’t, that’s okay too,” I added quickly.

  “No, I do … it’s just that … well … I’ve never done it before. Could be a bad scene.”

  “Well you have to start somewhere, Jason. Don’t you think it’d be more fun with me than some old know-it-all snowboarding instructor?”

  “Okay,” he said quietly, and then he gave a louder, “Okay!”

  “Awesome!” I agreed. “My dad says you can start at nine. I’ll stop by the store to get you after. Tell Ollie good night for me.”

  Jason was laughing. “Okay, I will. Bye, Avery,” he said.

  “Bye, Jason. Oh! And good night to Radley, too.”

  Part Two

  Major Pow-Wow

  CHAPTER

  11

  Air-to-Fakie

  That night, I had a Snurf-tastic dream about the competition. It went like this: It was snowing hard, and I was totally on fire as I executed three perfect flips on the halfpipe. The next thing I knew, I was standing on the platform to accept my FIRST PLACE trophy. All the kids from The Sweet Life were there cheering. Sitting at the judges’ table holding up scorecards that read “10” were Dad, Donnie Keeler, and Jason (I know, weird). I was super excited, waving my trophy in the air and shouting, “Snurfer! Snurfer! Snurfer!” when suddenly a drop of rain hit my face. I tried to keep shouting, but the rain was coming down in buckets. I felt my hair sticking to my cheek and when I wiped it away I realized I was awake and it wasn’t rain at all … it was dog slobber. Marty!

  I sat up and gave the little dude a hug. “Goooood morning, Marty Man.” Marty leaped out of the bed and barked at the window. The sun was shining through the curtains, and it was insanely bright. I looked at the clock on my nightstand. Yikes! It was already nine o’clock. Dad and Jason were definitely at the store by now, and Dad probably let me sleep in. Mucho cool of him, but now it was time to get up. “Thanks, Marty. I totally can’t waste another second. I have a Snurfer to practice for!”

  I looked outside as soon as I hopped out of bed. “Wowza!” I exclaimed. It had snowed … a lot! At least that part of the dream came true. There was a thick white blanket over everything—all the cars, roofs, and trees. It was so bright, I had to squint to see clearly. “Perfect powpow here I come!”

  One of my top-ten sports rules is, no matter what, dress for comfort. Even though blue was definitely my fave color for basically everything, today I was going to wear my purple snowboarding turtleneck. Okay, I know the BSG would probably be thinking, Purple? Avery? No way! But believe me, this was one Snurf-worthy shirt. Dad got it for me last Christmas and it was made of one hundred percent mossbud fleece, so it totally breathed when I boarded, but it also kept me warm and cozy at the same time.

  I rolled up my boarding pants and stuffed them in my backpack along with my gloves and wrist guards. Then I pulled my hair into a low side-ponytail so I could get my helmet on. I was ready to ride.

  When I got downstairs I noticed a box on the kitchen table in dog bone wrapping paper. There was a note on it too. “Rise and shine, sleepyheads! Remember, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so eat up! I’ll see you at the store. And there’s something special for Marty in the box.”

  “Wow, Marty, a present for you! Isn’t Dad the best?” I would’ve let Marty open it, but he wasn’t a very good unwrapper. (Trust me, the BSG tried before and it wasn’t pretty … unless you were a big confetti fan.) So I tore off the paper and opened the box. Inside was a little blue Nordic sweater with the words “Snurfer Dog” knitted on the back. I held it up for Marty to see. “What do you think, pal? A real Snurfer sweater all for you! Pretty cool, huh?”

  Marty sniffed at it and barked happily. Cute little Marty sweaters were Maeve’s thing … NOT mine. I mean, come on! He’s the Marty man … the M-Dawg. He’s waaay too cool for cutesy-pootsy sweaters. But a Snurfer sweater—well, that was another story. Snurfer Marty was going to look like one put-together pooch, and boy, did he know it!

  I took out a bowl for me and a bowl for Marty. His breakfast was obvious: kibbles, kibbles, and more kibbles. But what about mine? Dad was totally right … eating a good breakfast was crucial for a day of sweet boarding. Plain old cereal wasn’t going to cut it.

  First, I stuffed two pieces of thick wheat bread in the toaster. Then I grabbed a box of granola and some vanilla yogurt and poured them both in my bowl. I sliced a banana, an apple, some strawberries, and even sprinkled on blueberries. A yogurt parfait all for me! Bing went the toaster and up popped my toast—golden brown. After I smeared on butter and raspberry jam, the toast was super delicious smelling. Not too shabby, if I did say so myself … and I did. Eat your heart out, Scott! It was the perfect pre-mountain breakfast.

  “Okay, widdew Marty, ready for a widdew walk?” I held up the Snurfer sweater. The lady on the plane would have loved widdew Marty in his cutesy-pie sweater.

  Marty arfed and trotted over to me. He must’ve loved the sweater too, because he popped his little head right inside! For Marty, that was huge. After I helped him get his paws through the armholes (a tricky operation), he took off prancing around the room. Marty looked like a total stud in his new outfit, and he couldn’t wait to show it off. He was leaping and barking and going crazy while I put his leash on. When I checked out the window, I knew what was up. There was a dog coming around the corner—just about Marty’s size, black and white with spiky fur. A very cool-looking dog.

  “You want to make a new friend, don’t you, Marty? New friends rock!” I thought of my new friend, Jason. We were going to have a blast snowboarding for sure. I grabbed my backpack, put on my big yellow coat (Okay, Scott’s big yellow coat), and reached into the pocket for my ear warmer. Oh, no! It wasn’t there. I checked the other pocket just to be sure and found NOTHING! I could’ve sworn I put it away there last night. What if I’d dropped it in the snow behind Jason’s house? I knew I could always pick out a new ear warmer from Dad’s store, no problem, but still … my ear warmer was a Kgirl original, and I wanted it back!

  Marty looked at me with his big dog eyes. “Okay, okay, we’ll go.” I made a mental note to ask Jason about the ear warmer later.

  The dog and his owner were on the sidewalk right in front of the house when we got outside. “Hi!” I called to the dude. He was wearing a red jacket and bright yellow hat. I couldn’t see his eyes because of his sporty sunglasses (that sort of made him look like an insect!), but his nose was covered with freckles. “My dog wants to meet your dog, I think. He’s new in town.”

  “Radical! Join the club,” the guy said. He gave Marty a friendly rub on his head, then stood up and pulled off his hat. A huge blast of yellow hair puffed out. He pushed up his glasses to hold his crazy hair back. This dude was smiling real big like he knew an inside joke … but a joke that I was supposed to know too. It took me a second to figure out where I’d seen that hair before. Then I
remembered—the cover of Mountain Monthly, my favorite snowboarding magazine.

  “No way! You’re … you’re … the Egg! The Golden Egg! Donnie Keeler!”

  “‘Fraid so,” he said with a laugh. “I guess you’re a boarder, too.”

  “Wow! How’d you know?”

  Donnie Keeler bent down and patted Marty. “‘Cause only snowboarders know who I am off the slopes. Which is totally cool. I like that the only people who know me are the real fans.”

  I tried to think of something smart to say so he’d know I was a real fan, but the only thing that came out was, “Hah. Yeah.” Hah. Yeah? Good one, Ave.

  “You can call me DK, by the way,” he said and held out a gloved hand for me to shake. “And this guy”—he nodded at his dog—“is Crud.”

  I laughed and shook his glove with mine. I would have to explain to Marty later that crud was a snowboarding word that meant inconsistent snow … you know, like icy or slushy. Crud snow is NOT sweet to board on, AND Crud was probably the funniest dog name in the history of dog names. “I’m Avery Madden,” I said. “It’s awesome to meet you.”

  “Wait … Madden? By any chance, is your dad Jake the Snurfman?”

  “Yup.”

  “No way! I’m judging the Snurfer Competition.”

  “I know,” I said proudly. How sweet was it that I already had the inside scoop on what was going on in Telluride? “We’re so excited that you’re here. I’m going to be in the competition.”

  DK saluted me. “Sweet. Good luck little Snurfette.”

  I laughed and covered my mouth. No one had ever called me “Snurfette” before, but I really liked it. Imagine the Snurfer loudspeakers: “It’s a bird … it’s a plane … NO … it’s Snurfette! Boy, can she shred!” Oh, yeah. It definitely had a nice ring to it.

  “So what kind of dog is Crud?” I asked DK. “At first I thought he was a terrier, but his fur looks more like a collie.”

  “Right on! Crud’s a Border Jack—a mix of a Border collie and a Jack Russell terrier. Boarders and Borders just get each other, you know? Who’s this guy?” He scratched Marty’s belly and Marty rolled around in the snow, loving every minute of it.