The last group permitted to ride the superpipe for the day had congregated at the bottom of the mammoth snow trench, their shadows stretching out in the afternoon sun. Behind them, blue paint striped the vertical walls on either side, contouring 22 feet up as reference of the pipe’s severity, now cast in shadow, empty and quiet.
“Bradley Cooper? Like the one from The A Team?” The freckled-faced tween asked excitedly.
“Yes Caden, that one.” Mac hoped his snarky tone and lack of enthusiasm would end the conversation there.
“As in Sack? From Wedding Crashers?” Ryder asked, dwarfing everyone with his gangly thin body.
“Mm-hmm.” Mac smiled and nodded.
“American fuckin’ Sniper, Bradley Cooper?” Dawson gasped, his pudgy, pimply face jolting beneath a mop of frizzy hair.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth. But yeah, him.” Any more questions? Mac loved teaching his group of eighth-grade boys, but they were known to get excitedly off track, as they had earlier and pretty much all day since hearing the morning news. The little shits are really gonna flip when I tell ’em I’m leaving…oh well.
“A Star Is Born, Limitless, The Hangover part one two and three, Wet Hot American Summer. And my favorite part, she actually called him Brad.” Jaxson, the group’s motormouth, smirked. “Dude, face it. You’re screwed. Got no fuckin’ chance now.”
The four boys laughed in unison.
Cute. “Alright turds, calm down.” Mac pretended to be serious, though he was still grinning as usual. “First of all, we aren’t even dating. It’s her job to teach people how to ski…even if they are incredibly rich, famous and good looking.” Am I trying to convince them or me? “Secondly, you guys are way too young to know anything about Wet Hot America Summer, pretty sure that was from my dad’s era.”
“B. Coop is a total legend dude, I’ve seen all his stuff,” Jaxson said it like it was no big deal. “And believe me, after she’s spent the day with a real man like that, there’s no way she’s about to be seen fooling around with a clown like you. You’re cooked, bro.”
The boys laughed again.
Real fuckin’ mature. “Only thing about to be cooked is you four dill weeds. Another practice like today and I guarantee Aspen beats your asses silly next week. I’d put money on it.” If I had any. Mac coached Vail’s snowboard park and pipe club team, and there was no bigger rival than when they faced neighboring rich-kidschool, Aspen. And justified as it might have been, what he’d said to them was the equivalent of a low blow. Never said I was above punching down.
No way he was about to let four middle schoolers get the better of him. Why is it bothering me? And why haven’t I stopped thinking about her? Not like he was jealous or anything…was he?
No. There was nothing to worry about, not like she’d just spent the day having her snowpants charmed off by the delightful heartthrob in one of the most seclusive clubs in the world or anything. And it was totally normal for her to not respond to his texts while she was working. Everything was fine, like always. No strings, no stress…be cool.
“I cooked your mom last night,” Ryder said with a deep-throated chuckle.
Mom jokes…nice. At least some things never change. “You guys are freaks. Stay in school or it’s going to be a hard life.” Mac undid his bindings and stood up. “Ryder, Caden, you two need to hit the pipe a few extra times this weekend and I’m not talking about drugs. I don’t know why, but you guys are overthinking it. You gotta attack or you’re just going to keep wiping out like you did all day today. Jaxson, your park riding has been incredible the past few weeks, don’t change anything. Unless you want to try using some tape over your mouth…but that’s more for us.”
“Funny.” Jaxson made a face, pretending to be annoyed.
“And Dawson. My sweet, plump little Dawsonberry.” Mac relished in it for a second. “Stay away from the snack bar this weekend and you’ll be solid. I mean less solid, like in a good way.”
Ryder grabbed Dawson’s tit, laughing, and Dawson slugged him in the ribs.
Good clean fun. “See you boys next week.” Mac gave a half-assed salute and started walking towards the lodge.
The ski slope was still packed, riders trying to get one last run in before the lifts stopped, though no one in their right mind dared to call it their last run, as those words were paramount to testing fate with reckless abandon. It was always best to try for two more runs, then call it early.
Mac felt the wind forced out of his chest as a skier flew past him, slamming into his shoulder as they sped past, trailed only by the obnoxious laughs of Meredith Chow and the lingering smell of cologne. You two are so unlikable, you deserve each other.
It’s all good. One more hour and he’d be at the bar with Erica, drink in hand, staring into those sinfully green eyes. The stress of the day, news of Captain Craig leaving, numb-nuts taking over as his replacement, it would all just melt away. Him, her, a couple of shots, maybe he’d launch into making her feel self-conscious about her accent even though they both knew damn well he was crazy about it, then she would play hard to get, and if he was lucky, the night would end with a sleepover. Life is really that simple.
The closer he got to the lodge, the more people he was forced to weave around before finally realizing something wasn’t right. A group had gathered especially tight in one sport, and he had no choice but to peer in to see what was so captivating. Then it hit him. The Diggler was down. Shit.
Dave was seated on the snow holding his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth.
Mac pushed through, diving in next to him to get a better look.
If Jawny laid one finger on you…
Dave didn’t respond, which was fairly normal when things happened outside of a predictable pattern, but next to him, on the snow were his JBL headphones, snapped in two with the chord yanked out.
“Buddy, you okay?”
Dave wouldn’t look at him, just more rocking.
Mac soothed him as best as he could, finally getting him up and shooing the crowd away. Damn savages.
They walked together, not saying a word. After emptying out his locker, they went to the bus stop where Dave found a quiet patch of ice to sit while they waited for a transport.
If only I had my car back right about now.
The Diggler was pissed. And so was Mac. There was nothing he could say or do to make it right. “Sorry buddy, don’t know what to tell you. That guy’s a major dick.” And that’s putting it lightly.
Dave was playing Mario Kart on his Nintendo Switch, legs folded with impressive flexibility, still silently rocking.
He wondered what would happen to Dave when he left? Likely nothing, he’d continue bagging groceries at The Mart, skiing when he could, and now, thanks to Jawny, avoiding the men in the brown suits. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, Jawny would stay on Icon as much as possible, leaving the Beaver Brigade to their own devices. Or not. Jawny was way too ambitious for that. He’d be everywhere at once, needling in everything, making everyone’s life a living hell. He’d ruin everything Captain Craig had worked so hard to build, the team, culture, vibe, all of it. But if Dave quit skiing because of it, which was now a very real possibility…can’t think about it. It would be like leaving his sister all over again.
He'd heard Telluride was nice, maybe he'd go there. Or better yet, somewhere more secluded with less pretentious pricks. He could see himself making a go in Crested Butte. A fresh start. He’d have to find a way to tell Dave he was leaving…and the boys. Though he knew he couldn’t do that to them. Disappearing would be best…a lot less confrontation that way.
“Well Davey Boy, I bet we can get you another pair of those headphones.”
Dave glanced over then back to his screen.
“I have total access to the lost and found bin. Those things show up all the time in there. I’ll get you the first pair I see. Sound good?”
Dave glanced over again, then back to his screen. His body no longer rocking.
Buses rolled in, filled up and left, the crowd eventually thinning as the minutes ticked by.
About the same time that Mac’s ass had totally gone numb, a bus pulled up, filling only to half-capacity. “Here we go, you can get a whole bench to yourself.” It was hard enough for Dave to ride the buses when they were full. After a long day on the mountain with people crammed in the isle, it was beyond overstimulating. Not having music and headphones to help quiet the chaos was just too much to ask.
Dave stood up and began walking.
Mac slowly got to his feet, letting the blood recirculate his legs as he waited for his friend to disappear behind the tinted glass. You’ll be okay.
If he had less than a week left, he wasn’t going to spend it moping around. Dave had been okay before they’d met, he’d be alright after. Besides, there was really only one way he wanted to spend his remaining time, and she was waiting for him at the bar. I hope.