Don’t wipe out. Don’t wipe out.
Not the best mantra when you’re halfway down the ramp and headed into the first section of a slopestyle course. I ignored the you’re-not-good-enough voice in the back of my head and crouched lower on my snowboard. Nope, I’m not going to listen. Not this time, I thought as I picked up speed. I can do this.
With my route planned out for the course, I hit the first rail section with ease, my board sliding across the metal bar backward. I spun off the end of the rail so I was facing forward into the next rail section. I had a few tricks in my wheelhouse, but I had to decide which ones would impress the judges the most. Think fast, Jessa. Two tricks were possible, but the real question was if I could hit three.
I imagined the cheer of spectators along the course and focused on my spins, hitting two one-eighties off the last two rail sections. I couldn’t play it safe on the jumps. It’s all about big air, I reminded myself.
Out of the first jump I stomped a full three-sixty rotation, and off the second one I managed to add a board grab. Now came the final jump—I needed to land this backside five-forty. Unlike my first jump, this one added another one-eighty rotation, and landing backside meant I’d hit the ground before I saw it. I rode up the ramp in a straight line, and as I got to the lip of it, I threw my arms and popped my back foot to get enough momentum for my spin. I pulled my legs up to my body, and when I reached the maximum height in the air, I was right where I needed to be. In my head, I could hear the click of cameras from every snowboarding magazine covering the event.
Coming into my landing, I extended my front leg so the nose of my board would hit the snow first. Yeah, I got this, I thought before I hit the landing harder than I wanted to and steadied myself with a hand to the ground. It’d be a deduction for not sticking a perfect landing, but I imagined cheers from the crowd saying it was my best run yet.
I skidded to a stop, pulling my goggles up, and unclipping one of my boots from my snowboard. If I could repeat that run at next week’s competition, I wouldn’t need the extra practice on that backside five-forty. A girl could dream. But at least I didn’t wipe out.
I shaded my eyes with my hand and peered up at the mountain, the snow-capped peaks fading into the pale blue sky. The air is fresher up here. The world is brighter up here. And the . . .
Out of nowhere, a rider came dangerously close to crashing into me. He tumbled into the snow right at my feet and then laid out on his back, limbs spread out like a star. I shook my head. Some of these snowboarders needed babysitters, especially this one.
“I thought I had you,” the rider panted, and then he whipped up his snow goggles and squinted up at me with familiar dark brown eyes—the same dark brown I saw every morning in the mirror.
“Pax, every time I give you a head start you assume you’ll beat me.” I smiled down at my younger brother.
He sat up, unclipped one of his boots, and pulled his helmet off. Short black, sweaty hair stuck out in all directions. “Why do you have to stomp on a guy’s hopes?”
I laughed. “If it makes you feel better, the only thing I was trying to stomp were those landings.”
“You worry too much. You’ll win the competition, and then fame and glory won’t be far behind. Easy peasy.” Pax unclipped his other boot and fell back on his elbows with a huge grin on his face. Braces lined his teeth, but they couldn’t hide the chip on his front tooth from a skateboarding mishap. Not everyone in the Castillo clan is as athletically talented as my dad and I are.
“You make it sound so easy. Like recipe instructions.” I appreciated his enthusiasm, but there was more to it than that. If I wanted to eventually go pro like our dad had, I had a lot more work to do.
“Yes! A recipe for success. You’re welcome,” Pax responded with a wink.
“Thanks.” I shook my head again. “But I need to get in as many runs as possible over the next week before the competition.” I looked back at the terrain park and the mountaintop. The gondolas on the ski lift glided up, growing smaller by the second. I wish I had time for one more run, but Mom would be expecting us home for dinner. I sighed. There are never enough hours on the slopes.
Pax stood. “Speaking of recipes, I’m hungry.”
“When are you ever not hungry?” I responded, rolling my eyes.
Pax shrugged. “Good point.”
“Come on, I want to stop by the ski shop and pick up my new board.” I unclipped my other boot and hoisted my board onto my shoulder. I’d shoveled more driveways and sidewalks than I could count to save up for this new board. Only the best equipment would get me a high score in the competition.
Pax followed me into the lodge. A blast of heat welcomed us, causing me to sweat almost immediately. Snow-drenched floor mats squished under our boots as we greeted a few riders on their way out for the day. The ski shop was empty besides two girls dressed in all white fur-trimmed parkas and matching white snow pants. Even their ski boots were a pristine white. Not a single scuff. I just don’t get it. These two weren’t snowboarders, more like snow bunnies—regulars who lived outside of town, mainly interested in looking good . . . and I wasn’t referring to their skills or etiquette on the slopes.
As I walked up behind them they burst into a fit of giggles. I would’ve rolled my eyes at them if they could see me.
Ollie, the guy who practically lived at the ski shop, didn’t notice me either. It didn’t help that the fur on the girls’ parkas made them fluffier than the abominable snowman. I cleared my throat, announcing I was standing there. Of course, I might as well have been a pair of rental skis on a rack for all the attention I got from them. It wasn’t until Pax scuffled in behind me that the party of three took notice.
“Jess, I’m starving. Grab your board and let’s go,” Pax whined.
Ollie’s head popped up over the fur-trimmed hoods, and he nodded a hello. “Castillo, glad you stopped by.” Is that relief I see on his face? We’d hung out in the shop and talked snowboarding enough times that I was pretty sure these girls weren’t his favorite type of customer.
By the looks the two girls gave me, they didn’t look too happy to see me. They turned back around and gave Ollie a few more giggles before they headed out the ski shop door.
“Bye, Oliver,” one of the girls called over her shoulder before she disappeared into the hallway.
I raised an eyebrow at Ollie. His face flushed and he covered the back of his neck with his hand. “So, um, Oliver, is it? Do you think you could help an actual customer out?”
Ollie frowned. “Yeah, about that.” He leaned on the back counter and set his gaze on me. For a millisecond I forgot why I’d walked in here. “You looked good out there today, Castillo.”
“You were watching me?” I hoped my eyes weren’t bugging out of my head.
Ollie shrugged. “I like to hit the slopes on my lunch break.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“I mean, you are kind of hard to miss. No one shreds the slopes like that, and on the rails you have this style . . .” Ollie swiped his unruly hair away from his eyes. “It’s . . . different.”
I nodded, unsure if that was a compliment or not. If I was going to impress the judges at next week’s competition, I’d have to land every trick. Maybe even harder tricks—different wasn’t going to cut it. “Thanks,” I said anyway.
“Yeah, you’ll have to give me a tip or two.”
“I guess so,” I responded, hoping the blush I felt internally wasn’t showing on my cheeks.
Ollie grinned wider. “Have you ever been on a backcountry trail?”
“No.” I’d seen videos of riders on backcountry—untouched snow and natural terrain that stretched beyond the ski resort’s mapped trails.
“You have to go. There’s nothing like it if you’re into more than groomed slopes.”
“That sounds awesome.” And it did. I’d tried nearly everything the snowboarding world had to offer. The slopes were my second home.
“How about on my next day off you show me some tips on those gnarly jumps you stomp, and I’ll take you on a trail we don’t show the tourists. It’s a short hike off the expert run, but it’s worth it. Plus it’s easy to choose a route, not that I think you’ll need help picking out a line. There are a couple of drops but enough ridges and patches of trees to break it up so you don’t have to get down in one go.”
My heart sped up.
“Are we even allowed over there?”
Ollie pushed off the counter and gave me a sheepish smile. “I wouldn’t just take anyone,” he said, leaning closer. My heart pounded a beat faster. I wasn’t sure if it was Ollie’s closeness or the fact I’d get to mark a backcountry run off my bucket list.
“I hate to interrupt this flirt sesh, but I’m hungry enough to take a bite out of my arm,” Pax said, as he fell onto the front counter like he might faint from hunger.
I groaned inwardly. Leave it to Pax to turn an interesting conversation into a source of embarrassment for me.
“Right, you wouldn’t happen to know if my board is in, would you?” I asked, changing the subject.
“About that. It won’t be ready for you until tomorrow morning,” Ollie said.
“Tomorrow?” I frowned. There was no hiding my disappointment. “It was supposed to be in last week.”
“I know. I know. But some mega storm delayed our order. A new shipment comes in early tomorrow morning. It’ll be in that,” Ollie promised.
I forced a smile. “Yeah, of course. What’s another day?” My dreams of becoming a professional snowboarder were worth the wait.