I’m sitting on the couch of the lodge rental with a beer in my hand, watching my dumbass friends do backflips off the counter. There’s liquor bottles scattered around the island, empty and half drank solo cups covering every inch of the counter, and the music is so loud the walls are rattling.

“Jackasses are going to kill themselves.” Mia plops down next to me, a beer in her hands.

“Your brother know you have that?” I eye the aluminum can and her gaze follows mine.

A slow, sneaky smirk forms on her lips. “Are you going to tell on me, Grady?” She leans in a little too close for my comfort. The last thing I need with four weeks to qualifying for the Winter Classics in Sochi is Brandon stapling my balls to the ceiling.

“No, but if he catches you I’m not sure you’ll see the light of day. And do me a favor, leave it at one.”

She nods and I don’t miss her eyes taking me in. Mia’s had a crush on me for years. Hell, she might’ve come out of the womb with one mission—to get me in her bed. She’s assertive and forward and every time we interact it becomes harder not to notice all the great things about her.

Right now, I have the fact she’s seventeen on my side. Okay she’s only a couple months away from eighteen, but still. She’s a baby, still in high school. Too bad her body isn’t even close to matching her age. Add on the fact that she’s a killer snowboarder and it makes her damn near irresistible. I don’t know if her talent was derived from following her brother and I around all her life or if she’s just a natural, but the chick is good. So good, that in four years I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one trying to qualify for the American Winter Classics team.

“You guys going out tomorrow?” she asks.

I glance to my side at her. This is how I know Mia Salter likes me. She’s asking me the same dumbass questions girls always do when they’re trying to chat me up.

“That’s the whole point of being in Utah.”

“Well, yeah, I just didn’t know if you were going to take a break.” Her gaze drifts across the room and she pretends to sip her beer.

“No, we have a ton of shit to do.”

“Your friends are morons.” My older cousin Jagger sits down in the chair across from me with a glass of some expensive alcohol in his hand, his frat days long gone now.

“They like to have fun.” I shrug.

“They obviously want to spend some time in the hospital.” He watches Dax stand on the top of a door at the top of the staircase like he’s going to use it to snowboard down, laughing his head off, being egged on by the guys and girls watching from the second floor. “Like this dipshit.”

“Dax tends not to think of consequences,” Mia says next to me.

Jagger’s gaze lands on her, roaming up and down, a smile playing on his lips like he’s a starved cat and just spied his dinner mouse. He leans forward, outstretching his hand. “I’m Jagger, Grady’s cousin.”

Mia gives him a shy smile, and then does that thing where she straightens out and pushes out her tits. “I’m Mia.”

“Nice to—”

“Brandon’s sister and a high school senior,” I deadpan.

Jagger drops Mia’s hand. “Should you be drinking?” he asks, like the fact she had alcohol was a beacon that she’d be okay to approach.

I crinkle my forehead. My cousin isn’t exactly the poster child for the Boy Scouts. He’s been drinking since his freshman year of high school, if not earlier. I don’t even want to know what age he lost his virginity. Other than one girl I heard about back when he was in high school, nobody has a chance of lasting more than one night with him.

A fast food bag plops down on the table in front of me and my gaze moves up from the bag to find Brandon holding a similar bag with his usual I’ve got a secret smirk splashed across his face.

I don’t even want to know what kind of challenge he’s proposing now.

“Mia, put the beer away. You’re not even drinking it.” He shoots a fleeting glance her way and then his gaze lands on me. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” I slide to the edge of the couch, placing my beer next to Mia’s and open the bag. An array of food fills it and then Reese, the girl Brandon’s been dating, places a tray with two pops and two milkshakes on the table.

“Me and you. Food challenge.”

I slide back to my previous position. “Nah, I’m not hurling tonight.”

“Pussy,” Brandon coughs out like that’s going to get me to agree.

“If he doesn’t want to do it, leave him alone,” Mia says, sticking up for me. It’s cute. Well, it’s cute to me. Brandon’s gaze darts over to his younger sister with a look that shouts ‘shut the fuck up’.

“What’s going on here?” Dax comes over, wiggling his ass between me and Mia. “What’s up Lil’ Salter?’”

Mia rolls her eyes and slides over so Dax’s ass isn’t on her thigh.

“Kale’s being a wuss. I’ve got every item from the value menu. We each eat and then whoever finishes first and doesn’t throw up wins.”

“Wins what?” Dax asks. He’s probably itching to take my place. Except he did the cinnamon challenge last night, so in the order of things it’s my turn. Yes, in this chaotic realm of stupid challenges there are some rules.

“What does he want?” Dax asks.

“Besides the sign outside my door?” I ask.

“Sign?” Jagger asks.

“It’s like our trophy,” Dax explains. “Whoever wins the challenge gets ownership of the sign.” He sits up, grabbing Mia’s beer.

“Hey!” she says.

Dax downs a big gulp. “You aren’t drinking it anyway.”

She crosses her arms over her chest but says nothing, because he’s not wrong.

“How about first dips on the pipe tomorrow?” Dax offers up something I might actually be interested in.

With the three of us heading to the Winter Classics qualifying, it’s been hard to get enough time on the mountain.

“Whoever wins gets three runs before the other one.” Brandon grabs a kitchen chair and drags it over opposite me and sits down.

“You’re going to eat until you puke for that?” Jagger’s face contorts. “Am I happy I chose to be in the entertainment business.”

Brandon disregards Jagger and holds his hand out in front of me.

I shake it, eyeing the bag as my stomach rumples. I was hungry anyway. “Thanks for the free dinner.”

We both open our bags, placing the burgers, nuggets, fries, and baked potato out on the table.

“Now my stomach is growling.” Dax leans over Mia, grabs an opened back of chips and leans back.

“Don’t mind me,” Mia sneers.

“You’re hard to miss.” Dax winks.

“Not everybody thinks that.” Mia’s attention veers my way.

God help me when she turns eighteen.

Jagger inches up on the edge of the chair as a crowd forms around us.

“On Reese’s say,” Brandon looks over his shoulder at his girlfriend. Her face lights up, an unsaid ‘I love you’ in her sparkling smile.

Brandon stares me down like we’re in a gun draw in a western movie. He takes competition to a whole other dimension.

Dax rubs his hands together secretly hoping we both puke I’m sure. Then he gets to keep the sign on his door.

“Go!” Reese yells.

Brandon devours the first burger before I’m halfway done with mine. He takes a sip of the drink, choking it down. “It’s fucking diet.”

Everyone laughs over the sour look on his face after he swallows.

I move on to the second burger and Brandon digs into his potato.

Halfway through I let my head fall back between my shoulders, secretly asking my stomach to calm the fuck down. It’s gurgling, and expanding so much my pants are about to split open.

Brandon stands up with the soda in his hand, unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the ground, leaving him in boxer briefs printed with ‘Warning: Choking Hazard’ in front of his junk.

Hoots and hollers ring out in the small room.

“Someone thinks a lot of himself,” Jagger shakes his head with a laugh.

I toss two nuggets into my mouth, my jaw sore.

“Let’s go, you can do this.” Dax elbows me and the queasiness in my stomach increases.

“Giving up?” Brandon asks, his eyes suggesting he knows he’s already won.

Two can play at this game.

“Hey, Mia, how about a neck massage?” I eye Brandon.

He narrows his eyes, shooting his sister a silent shake of his head.

Low blow and I’m an asshole for taking advantage of her school girl crush on me, but if I don’t beat Brandon, I’ll never hear the end of it. He’ll brag until the next challenge.

Mia walks on the back of the cushions, sits back down and then her hands are on my neck.

Damn it feels good.

“Mia!” Brandon yells.

“Relax. She’s not thirteen,” Jagger says and Brandon’s long hair covers his eyes when he snaps his attention over to him.

“I’ll be eighteen in two months.” Mia’s elated voice over touching me can’t be missed and I truly feel like a jackass in this moment. I can’t lead her on when I have no plans of doing anything with her. I’m twenty-one and even if I was to cross the line with Mia, expectations would be full-time boyfriend and girlfriend status. My career is just getting started and I can’t be signing up for distractions when I’m on the top of my game.

“Really?” Dax is clearly interested in the fact.

A fry hits his forehead.

He picks it up and places it back in front of Brandon. “You’d hate to lose out over the technicality of one fry.”

“Hands off,” Brandon mumbles a warning to Dax.

Dax holds his hands in the air. “Hey man, her hands aren’t massaging my shoulders.”

Finally, Mia’s hands leave my shoulders, as her attention is directed to talking to some other people behind me. Brandon and I both have our milkshakes in hand and I can tell my stomach has had it with this challenge. Bile rises up my throat, but I swallow the burning liquid back down.

I’m sucking on the straw as fast as humanly possible. I’d blame Brandon for telling the restaurant to make mine extra thick if his own lips weren’t puckered so hard he looks like Zoolander himself.

“You’re both pale as fuck.” Jagger’s attention flips back and forth between the two of us.

I finally take off the lid and pour the thick liquid down my throat. The coolness giving my hot, aching throat some relief.

Brandon does the exact same thing and somehow seems able to open his throat so he’s just pouring the shake down there. Before I know it, he slams his cup down to claim victory. Dax examines all the wrappers and cups to make sure there’s nothing left. Yeah, we take this challenge shit way too seriously.

“Fuck!” I stand up, tossing my almost empty cup on the table where it lands on its side.

Dax stands up, grabbing Brandon’s hand like he’s a prized boxer that just won a fight in his weight class. He raises it up in the air. “And the winner is… Brandon Salter!”

---

---

Today is a perfect day to train. The sun is warm on my face, the snow is glistening like it belongs on a movie set, and it’s cold enough that it’s like powder. Jagger came out for a few runs earlier, but has taken up residence in the bar at the bottom of the hill. Brandon, Dax, and myself aren’t about to stop.

“Let’s make a wager.” Brandon meets me at the top of the halfpipe.

“Let’s just ride.”

Brandon’s been my best friend since forever. We grew up in the same small Vermont town where we wrote ourselves out of school to hit the slopes so many times during our senior year, we almost didn’t graduate. We’d watched so many of our friends get their GED and snowboard all winter. Hell, some don’t even have their GED, they just quit school.

Brandon’s and my parents are best friends and once they caught on to what we were up to they sat us down and stipulated that we graduate high school first and then we can do what we want. So, that summer after graduation when our friends were partying it up before college, we flew to New Zealand. We should be grateful mother fuckers because we were sponsored by that winter and started working the competitions.

Of course, my body remembers every ounce of hard work it took. People say we got lucky, but really, Brandon and I are so similar, we worked hard and pushed each other to be where we’re at.

“Come on, you know you always ride better when we’ve got something riding on the win.” Brandon smiles, slaps me on the back.

I shake my head, he’s always pushing the buttons, making everything a damn contest. So much, I’m scared what will happen when we both make it to the Winter Classics. Only one of us can claim gold.

“You know I’ve been trying to nail that trick,” I say.

“Take a break from that one and let me dictate what you can do.”

I hem and haw, it’s so beautiful out I don’t want to ruin the day when his sour puss attitude awakens if I beat him.

It wasn’t always like this for us, we encouraged and challenged each other. The more events we went to though, I started to see Brandon keeping a tally of which one of us won and lost. He’d give backhanded compliments about my tricks if I won. Not to say I didn’t act like a pissed off teenage girl when I lost—going to my room for the night and slamming my door, or when I headed home early because I claimed third once. Sometimes, times like today, I miss the two kids who skipped school just for the fun of the sport.

“Fine.” I relent because Brandon knows me well. Competition is where I shine and maybe with the little added pressure, I’ll nail the trick I can’t seem to land.

A cocky smile takes residence on his lips and he acts like he’s assessing me. I wait patiently. “Okay, cab 1090 double cork.”

I place my googles over my eyes, shaking my head at the easy trick he gave me.

“Hey,” he calls out and I turn back to him. “I see you and my sister.”

“You see nothing from my end.”

“I think you’re lying, but do me a favor, back off. She’s doing well in her competitions and I’d hate to see her never make a name for herself because she was distracted, you know?”

I pick up my goggles and rest them on my head. “Did you just give me permission to date your sister?”

His face goes stone cold. “No, I didn’t.”

Damn, has my attraction to her been that transparent? I’m glad to know he thinks enough of me that he wouldn’t object to me dating Mia, but he’s right. She needs to focus on making herself known in this industry using her own snowboarding skills, not her boyfriend’s name.

I nod, placing my goggles back on. “Oh,” I lean over. “You’re to do hard way front side 270. See you at the bottom.”

“Come on, at least challenge me!” he screams.

I laugh, placing my ear buds in and heading down the pipe.

Both of us do our tricks flawlessly and we find ourselves back on top of the halfpipe for the third time.

“Okay, I’ve done your easy shit. You know what I’m bad at and vice versa. At least challenge me,” Brandon says.

We stand there and let a few of our friends head down in front of us while we contemplate the tricks we’re going to give the other.

That fucker beat me last night and I’m primed to teach him a lesson. No way could I stand listening to him gloat if he won two in a row.

“Fine. Do a double cork 1440.”

Brandon smiles, nodding his head. “There you go, Rogue.” He smacks me on the shoulder. “Finally manned up. I was worried about you for a second.”

His words aren’t meant to make me sour on him, but part of me worries whether there will be a friendship left after we both qualify for the Winter Classics.

“I’m going to give you a switch double cork 1440.”

Fucker.

I should’ve had him give me mine first.

“Are you assholes done yet? I’m starving.” Dax slides over on his board. Since he’s competing for motocross snowboarding, he’s only here for fun. “I think I might join your cousin in the bar. I bet he can get some serious ass.”

“Yeah, this is the last run,” I say.

Brandon gets ready before me, placing his goggles on and giving us a thumbs-up. Now the fucker cuts in front of me.

“What’s with him lately?” Dax asks after Brandon slides down to the starting position. “It’s like he has something to prove.”

“Well, watch this because I gave him the double cork 1440.” I chuckle to myself because he’ll never do it and that should shut him up for the rest of the day.

“Shit man, you know he’s not ready for that.”

“He gave me the switch double cork 1440.”

Dax shakes his head. “You guys are like two lions fighting for the same steak. Sooner or later this is going to end badly.”

“Watch the fucker land it and I’ll be eating crow the entire day,” I grumble.

Both of our gazes focus on Brandon as he drops into the pipe. He grabs some serious air on the first trick.

“Fuck, he might just do it,” Dax says next to me. A few of our friends stop nearby to watch Brandon. “I’m seriously going to crap my pants if he makes it.”

Brandon flies up the side, flips, effectively doing the trick. The furthest he’s gotten all season.

Dax’s arms are up in the air, cheers ringing out from all our friends.

“Son of a bitch—” He’s seriously going to land it.

Then, I’m not even sure what happens, but he slams, landing on his side, and his body slides down to the middle of the halfpipe. My stomach jolts like I just coasted down a huge hill on a roller coaster.

“Get up,” I murmur to myself. “Get up.”

We’re all staring at him, but he doesn’t move at all. Not one muscle twitch.

“OH SHIT!” Dax, me and half of our friends slide down the halfpipe.

I fall to my knees and lift his goggles. His eyes are shut and there’s blood coming out of his mouth from a cut on the side of his face.

All the noise around me falls away and all I hear is the buzzing in my ears. I know people are screaming for medics, talking about a helicopter, but all I can do is fixate on Brandon’s lifeless body. Half of me wants to pummel him and the other half wants to pummel myself. He wanted to play the game, but I dealt the cards. The cards that may have landed him in a casket.

The medics race over, frantic words pouring from their lips. I watch as they stabilize his neck, and lift him carefully on a board. Brandon still isn’t moving.

My lungs constrict, and I can barely drag in a breath. They take him into the medic building and I follow behind in a daze, as if this is an out of body experience.

Time passes. Seconds, minutes…I don’t even know how long.

Finally, I snap out of it and panic grips me. “Where the fuck is the chopper?” I scream just as the sound of whirring propellers rings out around us.

No time is wasted as they get him on the helicopter and just like that, he’s gone. We were up on the hill razzing each other and a snap of a finger later, he’s in a helicopter on his way to a hospital that will hopefully save his life.

“They’re taking him to Memorial,” a medic informs us. Dax and I look to one another.

“Let’s go.” We turn around and when I see her standing there in the doorway, a cargo size weight lands on my stomach.

Mia’s soft brown eyes stare back at me. “What’s going on? I saw the chopper.”

She has her board tucked under her arm, her usual smile for me on display.

Dax releases a long breath beside me.

“Mia, there’s been an accident,” I say, my voice quivering.

How can I look into those big, cocoa eyes and devastate this girl?

---

---

Mia’s smile turns down and I step forward, needing to hold on to her to anchor myself. I pull her into my arms, hug her against my body.

“What?” she says, pushing me away. “Where’s Brandon?”

People around us are talking, little bits and pieces of what happened. Some are citing worst-case scenarios and other optimists assume Brandon will be back on his feet by dinner.

“We have to go to the hospital.” Dax swings the keys in his hand, his eyes widening and telling me that we’ll have to talk to her in the car.

“Is he okay? What happened?” I can tell Mia’s trying to listen to everyone else’s conversations around us. The ones that are telling her a hell of a lot more than I am at the moment.

“He fell. We really gotta go,” I say.

She doesn’t move, and I know she’s probably processing the information, but I’m about to pick her up and carry her to the car over my shoulder.

“I think he’s probably dead. A tube was sticking out of his throat,” one guy says to another as they pass us by.

Mia’s face pales, her mouth hanging open as she turns to me, the person who caused this.

“Is that true?” she whispers.

“He didn’t even wake up. He was limp like a dead fish,” the other one says.

I grab the back of his jacket and yank him back my way. He looks over, holding his hands up in front of him, acting innocent.

“Whoa,” the other friend comes over.

“Mind your own fucking business.” I cock my fist back, ready to knock this guy out, but two hands grip my arm before I can connect.

“This is helping no one,” Mia says, finally realizing the severity of the situation.

“It’s your lucky day asshole,” Dax says as the three of us run toward the truck.

---

Walking through the sliding doors of the hospital and seeing all the movement, tells me Brandon is not okay. I’m sure there are other patients here, but there’s an energy, a feeling that something serious just happened and the tension is palpable.

The nurse at the desk glances up, her fingers hovering over the phone. “Family?” she asks.

I point to Mia. “Sister.”

She looks to Mia and then us. “And you are?”

“Best friends.”

She nods. “I was just about to try to reach family. Would you like to call yourself?”

“Why? Is he…dead?” Mia’s voice cracks and tears stream down her face. “I can’t. I can’t tell my parents.” She’s growing hysterical, shaking her head, her hair flying from side to side.

The nurse stands, rounds the station and wraps her arm around Mia. “He’s not dead. He’s in serious condition though and we’re going to need your parent’s permission to conduct some medical procedures.” She’s talking like Mia is going to comprehend all this. She’s a teenager for fuck sake.

The nurse guides Mia over to me and I wrap my arm around her, letting her burrow into me like those rabbits in the newspaper at the pet store.

“Is he awake?” Dax asks.

The nurse holds up her hands. “Listen, I don’t know much right now, but why don’t you all go into the family waiting room and call his parents. Someone will be out to update you.”

We all nod like a bunch of scolded kids and head in the direction she points. The waiting room is empty, so we take a seat, Mia still not letting me go. I place her in the chair with Dax on the other side and make the dreaded phone call to Mr. and Mrs. Salter. Guilt flows through my veins and I’m half tempted to tell them that I may have killed their son.

Mrs. Salter answers the phone with her cheerful B & B welcoming voice.

“Jan,” I say.

I’m not sure if she hears it in my voice, but the line goes silent. After all, I never call her.

“Where’s Mia?” she asks, more concerned about her high school daughter who came to spend some of her winter break with us than her adult son.

“She’s fine, she’s here.”

“Brandon?” I hear her footsteps on the other end, her breathing pronounced enough that I know she’s not just standing at the kitchen counter preparing the afternoon tea for their guests.

“He’s had an accident. He fell.”

A strangled cry leaves her lips, a sound that will forever be imbedded into my memory. “How bad?” She pulls the phone away from her. “BOB!” she screams.

“They aren’t telling us much, but he was unconscious when they Life Flighted him. I think it’s bad.”

“No, no, no, no.” Sniffling comes next and then the phone drops.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Salter,” I say. “It’s Grady.”

In the background, Mrs. Salter is rambling on about what I’ve told her while Mr. Salter is trying to understand.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs and I assume he’s talking to his wife.

“Grady, I want you to take the phone to the nurse’s station, I want to talk to someone.” Mr. Salter must be in shock because he’s so calm and coherent.

“Okay.” I walk out of the waiting room and away from a rocking Mia, leaving Dax to console her.

“Excuse me,” I approach the same nurse from moments ago. “His parents would like to talk to someone. They’re in Vermont so they can’t come right away.”

She nods and holds her hand out for the phone. I pass it over then rest my head on the counter, unzipping my coat as sweat collects at the back of my neck. Ten minutes later, the nurse hands me back the phone.

“Mr. Salter?” I ask, unsure if he’s even on the line.

“Yes, Grady. We’re on our way. I want you and Mia to sit tight, we’re going to get there as soon as we can. I’m not going to sugarcoat this Grady.” He pauses. “Go on upstairs and pack,” he whispers to Mrs. Salter. “Okay, Grady, Brandon is in bad shape. They think he’s had a traumatic brain injury and they’re running a series of tests. They most likely won’t know much until we land. Please hold down the fort, maybe get Mia to go back to the lodge, although I doubt she will.”

“Me either, but I’ll try. She’s pretty shaken up.”

“I assumed she would be. Just take care of one another. We’ll be there soon. The hospital has received our permission for any further tests needed while we’re in transit.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll see you soon.”

Click. The line goes dead and my stomach churns, unsure how to process all this. I’m the one that caused him to get hurt in the first place and here I am having to hold down the fort like I’m a fucking hero or something.

I walk into the waiting room. Mia’s legs are pulled into her chest, her snow pants and jacket sit on a separate chair. Dax is in the middle of removing his extra layers, too.

“You two go back to the lodge. I’ll call with updates,” I say with more confidence than I feel.

Mia picks up her head, narrowing her bloodshot eyes at me. “No.”

“I’m with Mia, we’re not going anywhere.”

“There’s no reason for all of us to be here. Your parents are on their way.” Just then my phone rings and I pull it out, seeing my mom’s name on the screen. “Hold up.” I pick up Mia’s jacket and hold it out for her.

“Mom,” I answer.

Mia shakes her head, her hands not leaving her legs.

“Oh, sweetie I just heard. We’re going to stay back for a few days, help them clear out their guests and our own from the B & B’s and then we’ll come out.”

“You don’t have to,” I say.

“Yes, I do. Brandon is like my second son. Bob didn’t give any specifics, he just asked if one of us could go over to their place and take over until their guests leave. How bad is it, honey?”

I shake the jacket in front of Mia again, urging her to take it and she just stares blankly at me. I let go and it drops to the floor.

Stubborn girl.

“It’s bad, Mom.”

“Oh, I always worried about this happening. The two of you flying through the air and always riding that fine line between sanity and danger.”

“Let me call you back, Mom.” The guilt pressing down on me doubles in weight.

“Okay, like I said, we’ll be out in a few days. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Click.

I tuck the phone into my pocket and a bunch of our friends walk into the waiting room including Reese, the girl he’s dating, and Jagger. I guess no one gave them trouble on the way past reception since we’re the only people in here.

Accepting defeat, I grab Mia’s jacket and put it back on the other chair. Sitting down next to Mia, I place my hand on her entwined ones. She turns to me and I nod.

“It will be okay, Mia. I promise.”

Tears fill her eyes and she grips my hand between the two of hers.

Silence fills the crowded waiting room as people type away on their cell phones, alerting the world that Brandon Salter may very well be fighting for his life.

---

---

Seven days later, the crowd at the hospital has thinned. Even Dax had to go back to training, but he’s been in constant communication with me. My parents, the Salters, Mia and myself are tucked into the room, waiting for Brandon to wake up, to show us all the doctor’s assumptions are wrong and there really are such a thing as miracles. That me and him will head to the Winter Classics and he’ll claim gold just like he was meant to, because in my heart of hearts I know he’ll always be better than me.

“I’m heading to the cafeteria,” I announce, stretching from sitting all day. “Anyone want anything?”

“I’m going with you.” Mia stands up and weaves between medical machines and our parents.

“I can’t do the coffee anymore, how about just a water?” Jan asks, her hand gripping mine and squeezing. She’s been extra affectionate lately and I assume it’s because her son is in a bed with ventilators keeping him alive.

“Sure thing.”

No one else says much, Mr. Salter in constant research mode about where Brandon should go for treatment, how other people who suffered traumatic brain injuries survived to return to a normal life.

I’d never admit it to anyone, but I’m always happy to leave that room. Seeing Brandon’s lifeless body covered in bruises from the fall is a constant reminder that I caused him to be there.

“Hey,” Mia hip checks me. “You want to play another round of Scrabble tonight?”

“Sure.”

“I’m not even sure you’re capable of beating me.” She giggles and it’s nice to hear because it only happens when we’re alone.

The first time she did it, she covered her mouth like it was a bad thing. Like she was disrespecting Brandon.

I put my arm around her. We’ve become even closer since the accident. We’ve talked about Brandon and what the first thing he’ll say is when he wakes up, cool tricks we want to try in the pipe and whether her mom will ever let either one of them snowboard again. We’ve played Scrabble, made chocolate chip cookies and watched more movies than I can count on two hands. Her parents are preoccupied, and my parents are trying to help her parents as much as they can which has effectively left us on our own.

“When do you have to report for qualifications?” she asks, right after we sit down to eat our crappy cafeteria food.

“In a week or so, but I’m thinking about skipping. I’ll go to the next Winter Classics.” I fork my wilted salad.

“You can’t do that. Brandon wouldn’t want that.” Her is voice rising, so she lowers it and leans forward. “You have to go qualify. I’ll keep you up to date on things.”

I push my salad aside and grab my soda, leaning back in my seat. “I don’t know. I have to think about it.”

“What about your sponsors? What do they say?” She spoons her pudding, but doesn’t bring any to her mouth.

“They understand the situation I’m in, but if I want to go the Games I need to head out soon.” I know that if I don’t qualify I may lose some of my sponsors. They understand about Brandon, but business is business and they want me back in the pipe.

Her head remains down and she continues stirring her pudding.

“What?”

She shrugs. “I have to go back to Vermont to graduate at some point. I just I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

I reach across and cover her hand with mine. We’ve blurred some lines lately, and I need to remember Brandon’s wishes where she’s concerned. We haven’t done anything physical, but we’re both leaning on one another for support and there’s an intimacy in that.

“We better head back up,” I say.

Her eyes meet mine and I want to reassure her. I want to tell her, it will all be okay. Brandon’s a fighter and he’ll win this battle. All the bullshit people spew when someone’s hurt. It’s only been seven days and it’s still just us, sitting and waiting for the fucking fairy godmother to twirl her magic fucking wand and warp us back to where we were seven days ago. Not going to happen. Brandon doesn’t have a fight on his hands, he’s got a damn war to fight.

We walk in silence, the route and routine now memorized—back to the elevators, into intensive care, sanitize our hands, and enter the room that’s become our second home. Mia buries her head in some book, I finger through another snowboarding magazine. Our parents shoot us reassuring smiles and we commence where we left off—waiting.

---

“What do you want to watch tonight?” Mia’s got the remote pointed to the television on DVR movies. We’ve watched every one of them.

I stare out the window to the newly fallen snow. We would have been out there right now. Brandon and I. Carving out a path on a fresh powder.

Without thinking too much of the consequences, I grab my jacket from the chair. “Come on.” I nod to the door.

“What?” she asks.

Our parents retired three hours ago, all exhausted from doing nothing all day.

“We’re going out.” I grab my snow pants, shove my feet in my boots and perform the ritual I haven’t attempted since Brandon’s accident.

“Boarding?” she asks, her eyes lighting up. They dim an instant later and look to the ceiling where her mom sleeps on the floor above. I’m sure there have been conversations I haven’t been present for about what Brandon’s accident means for her future in snowboarding.

The first genuine smile appears on her face and she runs to the door, grabbing all her stuff. I sneak out to the garage, grab our boards and we head out the front door.

It’s dark, the full moon glows high above as snow continues to fall, leaving a fresh layer.

“Follow me,” I say, clipping to my board and looking back one more time to make sure she’s with me.

I let myself go, zigzagging a path out for her, through trees and open spaces. We’re silent as we let the moon’s light show us the way. Neither one us has our ear buds and I’m glad. The night’s cold and calm, bringing a peace to my mind and body I haven’t felt since the accident.

A half hour later, I collapse in the snow, and Mia falls down right beside me.

“That felt so good,” she says, as the two of us stare up at the moon.

“It did. I’ve missed it more than I let myself admit.”

She rolls on her side, turning my way, and I do the same, our eyes speaking unspoken words they shouldn’t be.

“I was scared I wouldn’t be able or want to snowboard again. Thank you.”

I smile. “You’re welcome. Truthfully, I was kind of scared too.”

She turns onto her back to gaze up at the moon, but my eyes remain on her.

“I’m scared,” she admits. “I’m scared that he’s going to die or that the Brandon that wakes up won’t be the brother I recognize.”

“Me, too,” I whisper.

“You’re supposed to tell me it will be okay.” She lets a sad giggle escape, looking at me one more time.

“I can’t lie to you.”

Our eyes lock and my body begs me to break that small distance between us. No one would have to know if I kissed her.

“Grady…I—”

I stand up abruptly, unclipping my board, holding my hand out to her. “We better get back before they realize we’re missing.”

She doesn’t look away from me though. Her tender, sweet and trusting gaze remains fixed on me as she accepts my hand and I pull her up.

“I think I love you Grady Kale,” she whispers like it’s a secret. Maybe she thinks it is.

“No, Mia, you have a school girl crush on me.”

I release her hand and start walking up the hill.

“That’s not true,” she calls out from behind.

I turn back to see she hasn’t moved.

“You have feelings for me, I know you do.” She stomps across the few feet that separate us, her finger poking me in the chest.

“How could I have feelings for you, you’re seventeen?”

She shakes her head, tucking her board under her arm a little higher. “You can’t lie to me? You just did.”

She walks by me and my hand reaches out, gripping her upper arm and tugging her back until we’re chest to chest.

“You’re too young, Mia and even if I did, I shouldn’t have those thoughts about you.”

“Grady, you’re twenty-one, I’m seventeen, it’s only four years.”

“The fact you’re not eighteen negates all of that.”

“You’re nothing but a coward.” She thrusts her arm from my grasp and heads up the hill.

She might not realize it today, but she’ll thank me for walking away from her once she realizes who really caused her brother’s injury.

---

Two days later, Brandon woke up, not remembering anything about the accident. It was the same day the doctor told us he’d never snowboard again—that he had to learn to talk, eat, and walk again. His brain was so damaged that he had a long recovery ahead of him to get anywhere near ‘normal’ again.

A day later, I said my goodbyes and left to qualify for the Winter Classics. Mia smiled and waved, refusing to hug me goodbye.

Seven days later, I qualified to represent the United States in the Winter Classics.

Thirty-three days later, I won gold.

It wasn’t until one thousand, four-hundred and sixty-seven days later that I spoke to Mia Salter again and let’s just say it wasn’t a happy reunion.

Don’t forget…Dax is next!!

2.12.18