Skylar breezes into her former high school, a friendly smile on her face as she greets the receptionist and office staff.

“Oh, Skylar Walsh, you look even more beautiful than on television.” The elderly lady with permed hair says.

“Everyone knows TV adds ten pounds.” Another woman approaches, taking Skylar into her arms. There should be a handout for age-appropriate clothes. This lady needs more layers.

“And who’s this?” The first lady peeks over Skylar’s shoulder.

Skylar backs up a step, placing her hand on my shoulder. “This is my friend Beckett Myers. He competed in the Classics in snowboarding.”

The skimpy clothed lady narrows her eyes like she’s trying to place me. Should I tick off the commercials I’ve done or mention the press promo ads? For two weeks every four years, even I’m surprised how much my face shows up on national television. Then it’s a blackout until three months before the next Classics. Unless you’re my buddy, Grady Kale. That guy scored one hell of an agent.

“Oh, I remember you. My grandson said you should have won,” the elderly lady says.

I shrug like I could care less. I’m not ungrateful for my silver, but yeah, the judges kind of screwed me in my opinion. “Tell him hi and thanks for being a fan.”

“You should speak, too. I mean how many times do we have two Classic medalists in our small little school.”

“Nah, this is Skylar’s thing.” I wave them off.

This school is nothing like the campuses where I grew up. It’s all enclosed. Our lockers were outside, and we could sneak off easily. Yeah, I wasn’t an A student.

A bell rings and the older lady scurries behind her desk, staring into a camera and then clicks a button. “Your cousin is here,” she says to Skylar.

“Chelsea?” I ask, looking over at Sky. “You didn’t tell me.”

“You wouldn’t have come.” She shrugs.

I nod. She’s got a point. There’s nothing wrong with Chelsea if you appreciate a girl with no filter. Think Dax with a set of tits and more attitude.

“Oh, what’s not to love about Chelsea?” The woman who might be giving the freshman boys their wet dream material scoots to the door, never really picking up her high heels.

Chelsea walks in, her blonde hair like a makeshift bird's nest from the Chicago wind. She unzips her coat and Skylar starts laughing while I shake my head. Skiers rule snowboarders drool is printed on her t-shirt.

“That would hold more weight if you skied, Chelsea,” I say.

She gives the lady a hug, they exchange a few words and then she pulls me into her clutches.

“Oh, Beckett, I always love razzing you.” She kisses my cheek and then pushes me back.

“Hello? Arm?” I hold up it up.

“You haven’t been freed of that thing yet?” She moves on to Skylar, the two having a shared whisper conversation. I faintly hear something about balls and I step back.

“Marge,” Chelsea coos, heading behind the desk and pulling the older lady to her. “I miss this place.”

Chelsea and Skylar are cousins. Same age, so you can imagine how fun it is when the three of us are together. Usually they gossip about people I've never met in my fucking life. Good times.

“What are you up to these days?” the other woman asks.

My gaze flicks to the big clock wondering when this shindig gets started.

“Yeah, Chels, have you found a job yet?” I ask, twisting the screwdriver she brought with her when she chose to wear that shirt.

Her head swivels in my direction, a smug smile in place and then she looks back to Marge. “I did. I’m going to be head of marketing and PR for a new non-profit.”

“Chels, that’s great!” Skylar hugs her from behind, Chelsea patting her cousin’s hand.

She went the college route and has ping-ponged through as many jobs as tricks I’ve landed safely. In other words, a shit ton.

“The owner is super awesome. Female.”

They all say ‘oh,’ like that’s some big thing. Haven’t women been pushing that glass ceiling for a while now? I don’t see how that’s a surprise.

“It’s just starting out, so I can really prove myself. I’m so excited.”

“Did you start already?” Skylar asks.

“Tomorrow.” She crosses both her fingers in the air.

Skylar hugs her one more time. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah, you’re employed.” I do a little cheer with my good arm and Chelsea narrows her eyes at me.

“How’s the arm, Beckett? Still need Skylar to nurse you back to health?” She raises her voice an octave like she’s speaking to a baby.

“Oh, great, you’re here! The students are getting restless. Come on.” A dark-haired woman peeks into the room.

“Sorry.” Skylar shoots me a tight smile and I give her a thumbs-up.

We all file out of the office, the two ladies wishing Skylar luck and gushing about Chelsea’s new job. Did I miss the part where she says she cured cancer?

Walking down Skylar’s high school hallways on the way to the gym, memories of Summer wash over me. How young I was. I wasn’t as jaded yet and still believed that what I’d experienced in my youth didn’t have any repercussions. My experience with Summer convinced me otherwise.

The dark-haired lady stops us right before we’re going to enter the gym doors. Chelsea is giving Skylar a pep talk and I lean against the wall. The woman who I think at some point on our walk over here said her name was Gwen, has her attention poised on whoever is talking in the gym.

“Winter Classics medalist, Skylar Walsh!” The man on the microphone announces and clapping rings out from the large room.

She walks across the gym floor to join the man at the microphone while Chelsea and I are guided to two open spots in the front row. Sky’s shaky hand lands on the microphone and she swallows, so loud you can catch the faint sound over the speakers.

“She’s fucking hot,” some kid a few rows back says.

“She went to school here?” another adds.

“Man, what happened? The selection has gone to shit since she was here,” the first kid chimes in.

Chelsea shakes her head and glances at me. I’m surprised she’s yet to say anything. Silence isn’t her style.

“Hey.” A tap hits my shoulder and I look behind me, finding a blond kid with blue eyes, wearing a letterman jacket. Probably the school jock. There’s some pin thing on his letter. “She available?”

Chelsea laughs. “In your wet dreams.”

The kid narrows his eyes and I can tell he’s about to unleash some of his ‘I run this school venom’ on her.

“Sorry, she’s not,” I answer nicely.

“Are you her boyfriend?” the other one asks.

“In his wet dream,” Chelsea adds, and the kid opens his mouth but shuts it quickly.

He’s probably wondering about Chelsea now. She’s not hard on the eyes either.

“Actually.” She taps her lips. “He could be if we traveled back in time to before he became a blind douchebag.”

The boys slide closer to her, effectively knocking a girl off the bench. She pushes up her glasses, sits back down and hits the guy closest to the end with her hip. Way to fight back. There’s the type of girl I should’ve dated in high school.

“First Zoe and now you?”

She lifts one shoulder. “Our family is close. We talk. Have your ears been burning?”

Skylar clears her throat over the mic. “My good friend, Beckett Myers is here, too. He’s a snowboarder.” She waves me up.

“He’s totally fucking her,” the kid with the letterman jacket says.

Chelsea turns around. “No, he isn’t.”

Skylar’s in the middle of the gym floor, waving me up because I’m fairly sure she’s uncomfortable being up there by herself. I got the two horniest boys behind me hell-bent on making this a horrible experience for me. Both options suck.

“Shut. It,” I grind out through my clenched jaw.

Chelsea laughs in my face and turns back to the boys. “They’re friends,” she says using quotations around friends.

“No such thing.” The one kid gives his opinion, which no one asked for.

“That’s what I said.” Chelsea slaps me on the back. “Your friend is requesting your assistance.”

I hunch over and stand, heading to the middle of the stage.

The man who I’m guessing is the principal stands and shakes my hand. “Wish I’d known we would have had both of you.”

“Nah, this is Sky’s thing, not mine.”

“Surely your high school would like you to talk.”

“Yeah, probably not.” I nod and turn my focus to Skylar.

I can read her like the slopes. Easy to find my line, which path will get me there the fastest. But today she’s throwing me for a loop. Skylar doesn’t get scared, she doesn’t get intimidated, not by this sort of thing.

She offers me the microphone and I figure to make the whole situation better, I’ll take it with the hopes she’ll collect herself enough to come back. Truthfully, I’ll just brag about her, since she is my favorite subject.

“Hey, everyone. I’m Beckett.” My eyes scan the crowd of kids until it lands on the tall figure in the corner by the doors. You have to be shitting me. This guy is fucking everywhere and it’s like he’s got a noose around my girl’s neck.

It’s not hard to figure out that Ben is a physical education teacher from his shorts, t-shirt and a damn whistle around his neck. His eyes are intent on Skylar, so I step to the side, blocking his view of her. He doesn’t deserve it anyway.