Chapter Twenty-Five
Luke
Luke stared glumly at the wall in his bedroom. After sleeping for twelve hours, he’d showered, eaten a bowl of oatmeal with some dry toast, then tried valiantly not to throw it up.
He’d failed.
That had been enough to encourage him to go back upstairs. How was it in all his years in SBX, he hadn’t managed to get concussed before now? It sucked, both in timing and how miserable he felt.
The rest of the day dragged. He tried watching TV—that made him dizzy. He tried to read. Same. The best he could do was listen to music and brood, trying to forget breaking up with Charlotte. The rational part of him knew she was right, but he couldn’t give up. Not now.
Weren’t concussions supposed to cause memory loss? Why couldn’t he forget the betrayed look on her face when he told her to go?
Parker poked his head into the room. “You okay?”
Luke shrugged. “My head hurts, I can’t see straight, and I chased off the first decent girl ever to go out with me. So, yeah, I’m fine.”
“What, did you carjack a ride to Bitter Town already?” Parker dropped onto Luke’s bed, jostling him.
Luke blinked at the pain lancing through his temple at the movement. “Watch it, asshat.”
“Sorry. Definitely sounds like Bitter Town is a go, though.”
Luke rubbed his temples. “Can you blame me?”
Parker grabbed an old Rubik’s Cube off Luke’s nightstand. The thing had been gathering dust for years, but that didn’t stop his brother from fiddling with it. “Yeah, I heard Charlotte was mad that you wanted to race next week.”
“Furious. Thing is…I know she’s right.” Luke closed his eyes. “But scratching from this race will kill me inside. I know I sound like a drama queen, but I’ve been preparing for this race for years. If I don’t go for it, I might not try again.”
“I get it,” Parker said, serious. “I know what this means to you.”
“What would you do?” Luke sighed, wondering how he’d gotten to the point that he needed his little bro’s advice. “About the race, I mean? Would you take Charlotte’s advice and not race, or be a reckless dumbass and go for it?”
“Oh, I’d totally race.” Parker flashed Luke a grin. “Zoey called me a number of choice names when I admitted that.”
The corner of Luke’s mouth twitched. It was hard to stay miserable at the thought of Zoey chewing out her brother. “She did?”
“Oh, yeah. But, in the end, we both agreed it’s because she cares.” Parker cocked his head. “Want to know what I’d really do?”
It can’t hurt. “Sure.”
“I’d do exactly what Charlotte said. I’d rest. But I’d also do the concussion protocol tests. If I was symptom free, and felt good, I’d race, medical advice be damned. If I was just fooling myself about being symptom free, or felt off, I’d scratch from the race. No sense in hurting myself worse, you know?”
Luke sank back against his pillows. Parker was right—Luke could follow Charlotte’s advice and still work toward racing next week. “Okay, that’s the plan. I’ll tell Michael.”
“Good. Now stop pouting and start figuring out how to make things up with Charlotte. Otherwise, you’ll race like shit.” Parker hopped up. “Now, I have a date. Zoey’s parents are over here for the evening, and we’re going to her house. We need some alone time.”
“Spare me the details, bro.” Luke sat up slowly, waiting for the room to stop spinning. He hadn’t felt this off-kilter since his twenty-first birthday barhop. “Have a good time, though. I’m…I’m glad you two worked out.”
Parker gave him a lopsided smile and leaned in for an awkward hug. “Thanks.”
After his brother left, Luke had to wonder when the kid had become so smart. Maybe he always had been, but Luke hadn’t noticed because of his own ego. No, he hadn’t noticed. He’d done his own thing, consequences be damned. But the last few weeks had taught Luke something—going for what he wanted without thinking it through was a terrible way to live.
Especially since karma was a bitch and gave people concussions to remind them they weren’t invincible, immortal, or even all that strong. The human body had limitations.
And…he owed Charlotte an apology. It wouldn’t change his plans to race, but he’d been an asshole, which couldn’t stand. Charlotte wasn’t a distraction, and as soon as his head stopped hurting, he planned to chew out Michael for putting the thought into his head. For now, Luke would focus on the things that mattered—and he was capable of handling more than one at a time, thank you very much—and do the right thing.
He picked up his phone, cursing the headache that started as soon as he focused on the screen. Are you there?
He watched the screen. It made his eyes cross, but the message went from “delivered” to “read.”
He let out a slow breath. Would she answer?
C: Yes. How’s your head?
Luke closed his eyes a moment. She’d written back. Hurts. But someone told me my brain is bruised, so I’m not surprised.
C: Well, yeah.
L: When you come back to Aspen, can we talk?
There was a long pause. Finally: Yes. New Year’s Day, the café. We both need a little time to sort things out.
If she was willing to talk to him, Luke would wait until June if she asked. I’ll be there around ten. See you then.
C: Get some rest in the meantime. Pls take care of yourself.
L: I will.
But only as much as he had to until he could get onto the mountain.
“You’re getting better,” Dr. Sloan, Michael’s favorite sports medicine guy, said. “Your scores are approaching normal.”
Luke nodded, noticing it didn’t hurt when he moved his head. The fogginess and blurred vision was gone, too. His balance was slightly off, but it was only New Year’s Eve. In two days, he’d feel better. “Can I take it again on the second, before I do my walk-through at Buttermilk? USSA will want clean results.”
Dr. Sloan tapped his pen against the page. “Sure. The odds are good that you’ll be ready. I get what the ER doctor was telling you, but the concussion was mild, and you’ve taken care of yourself. No promises, but I think you’ll be able to race.”
Thank God. “Good.”
“But you should not practice before then. I know that sucks, but you need to stay off the board until we run through the diagnostic on the second.” Dr. Sloan’s pen now pointed at Luke’s forehead. “I will not have scrambled brains on my record.”
“Noted.” Luke shook his hand. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Dr. Sloan handed Luke the readout. “Give that to Michael. He needs it in case a USSA official starts sniffing around. Your concussion was pretty public. They’ll be looking.”
“Yeah, I bet they will.” And probably because Tucker tipped them off. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
Luke left the doctor’s office feeling both elated and restless. His entry into the race looked good, but he couldn’t work out or take a run up at Snowmass. The thing with Charlotte would stay unresolved until tomorrow. The only good thing was his dad had come home and was moving very slowly around the house under his own steam.
Not sure what to do, Luke started his Jeep and turned out of the parking lot, only realizing he was headed for the café when he was halfway up the mountain. He had no idea what kind of welcome he’d get, but today was his last day for free food, and he finally had an appetite for more than soup and oatmeal.
The bell above the door dinged like always when he came in. A woman he didn’t recognize asked him if he wanted a table, and he pointed at the bar. It wasn’t the same without Charlotte.
“Well, if it isn’t the boy wonder.” Evangeline appeared at the bar and set a mug of coffee in front of him. “How’s the head?”
“Better. How’s Kit?”
“Very good.” She gave him a sly smile. “That’s all on you.”
He’d heard—gossip from the circuit flew faster than the snowboards. “Should I apologize or expect a thank-you?”
“Definitely a thank-you.” Evangeline pulled out her order pad. “Which is why I haven’t kicked you out for dumping Charlotte like an asshole. I’m feeling forgiving.”
Shame curled in Luke’s stomach. “I was an asshole, but I also had a concussion. I don’t really…remember everything. I do remember saying stupid things I’ll never get to take back.”
“Oh, you definitely said stupid things.” She raised an eyebrow. “Charlotte wasn’t happy at all.”
Well, shit. “I’m going to meet up with her tomorrow, grovel some. See if she’ll give me another chance.”
“Good. I think you two work better together. It might be hard to convince her of that, though.” Evangeline produced a pen from her apron. “What’s for breakfast? And don’t even say, ‘the usual.’”
“I’m not feeling like the usual anyway. Denver omelet?”
“Very good, sir. Coming right up.” Evangeline looked over her shoulder at the kitchen. “Dad! Charlotte’s young man is here!”
Luke put a hand over his face. The entire café had to have heard that. Mr. Bzdyl came plowing out of the kitchen, still carrying a spatula. “Luke! Evangeline says you bumped your head. It’s okay?”
Bumped my head…that’s one way to put it. “Yes, sir. Much better.”
Mr. Bzdyl wagged the spatula at him. “You be more careful. Who else will chase down hooligans for lovely Charlotte?”
Luke smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
Evangeline nudged her father aside and refilled Luke’s coffee. Once Mr. Bzdyl was out of earshot, she said, “Charlotte’s flight lands at six twenty. She took an Uber to the airport. Might be nice if someone showed up to drive her home. Too bad I have a hot date tonight, otherwise I’d go get her.”
Luke stared at the bar, rubbing at a coffee stain. “Think she’d get into my car?”
“Only one way to know for sure.” Evangeline winked and went to wait on another table. As she passed by, she said, “Don’t break her heart, though. I’m hell to deal with when I hold a grudge.”
“I believe you.” Luke watched her go. Evangeline loved Charlotte, that was certain. If she thought he should go pick up Charlotte, then he would.
And hopefully, she’d accept.