"Good," he said. "Again."

This time it took me even longer to find my nerve, and again I felt sure we would crash into one of the jumps, or at least ruin somebody's run, but the time and the snow just kept unraveling. By the bottom, I had made three or four fluent turns in a row and had gained enough momentum to ride to the lift without stopping. I was breathless when we dropped down onto the chair.

"Good job," Bren said, offering with a raised brow to lower the bar. I shook my head and he dropped his arm onto my shoulders. These tiny things - hearing the word girlfriend, holding his hand, feeling the weight of his arm around me - were glimpses into what it would be like to belong with him. With them. There was no one else in the park, and I felt like they had invited me into their private world. I thought of the fire in the woods.

"What are you thinking?" Bren asked as we watched Frieda spiral against the trees below.

I didn't want to mention the fire - a subject that made me feel far from him - so I asked him a question instead.

"Why haven't you ever had a girlfriend?" I asked. "Is there something wrong with you?" I added this last part to lighten the mood, make it casual.

"Please," he said, pointing at himself and then flipping his palms up, an expression of disbelief at the very question. I ignored it, gave him one of Frieda's sweet smiles, and raised my brows.

When he realized I was waiting for an answer, he dropped his hands. "Actually," he said, "there's something wrong with most girls."

"I see." I said. I didn't see.

"Honestlya" He leaned back, appeared to hesitate, then shrugged. "Okay listen, you may think I'm a jerk for saying this, but I don't take teenaged girls all that seriously."

I thought about that. Maybe he was a jerk, and maybe I should have been insulted, but I didn't take many teenaged girls seriously either.

"So, what, you date soccer moms?"

He laughed his deep, hearty laugh, which made me smile, then shook his head. "I just mean that sometimes girls aren't all that nice. In fact, they can be pretty mean. And you know what? They don't like themselves very much." His said this with a kind of sickened dismay, as if he had just realized that not all animals were Disney characters; that some animals actually ripped each other apart with their teeth.

I thought of Brianna. Of countless other girls I'd known. "No," I said, "I guess some of them don't."

When I looked down this time, Dag and Frieda were waiting for Frey. He was heading for the center jump. As he approached, a strange thing happened to my vision. The jump seemed to waver, grow higher from the ground, the space between Frey and the ramp stretching so that he appeared to ride toward it in an endless stream of acceleration.

"Jenna."

The jump wavered and grew taller still, Frey dissolving into a blur.

"Jenna."

A hand shook my shoulder. The arc of the jump now curled to nearly vertical. Frey zipped over it and soared like a missile into the air. I jerked back against Bren in shock, but Frey was still at eye level.

Then I blinked and he was gone.

"Jenna."

I had heard of things like this. People hallucinating in situations where they were afraid. I thought maybe I was having some kind of panic attack.

"Hey." This time Bren shook my shoulder hard, leaned over and peered into my face. "Are you alright?"

I stared back at him.

"Yeah. Sorry," I said, my voice unsteady. "I guess I'm not used to this."

"Don't worry," he said, sitting back. "If anyone crashes, we'll clean it up."

I made a disgusted face, he laughed, and we rode smoothly off the lift.

In between watching the riders and practicing my turns, there were three other times when I had to blink my vision clear. Once when it looked like Frieda was going to hit a tree in mid-air, but then I saw that the trunk was bent and watched her skirt around it, her fingers grazing the bark. Once on the lift, when I thought the half-buried car was actually rising out of the snow and would eventually slide down the hill and run over somebody in the half-pipe. And once during Bren's last run, when the whole vista sprawled out in the valley below seemed to disappear behind a monster swell of snow rising in my vision, until he finally coasted off the crest and vanished behind it. I knew the snow could play tricks with a person's sight, and the sun was so bright my eyes were tearing from its reflection, but I was glad when we decided to head down. I'd had enough of Tim Burton's perverse park for one day.

We caught the lift one more time and rode a simple, straight run to the base a" a gift from them to me, I assumed. Frey chose to take a chair by himself, and Dag and Frieda hopped on the next one directly in front of Bren and me. Relieved to be facing my last ride of the day, I relaxed back against the chair, inhaling the frost and pine.

I felt Bren staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You're lucky," he said.

I turned to him. "Lucky?"

He nodded. "Because I'm going to let you do something I've never let anyone else do."

I arranged a premature look of amusement on my face. "What?"

He paused, apprehension dimming his face for a moment like a cloud sliding across the sun, then grinned. "Be my girlfriend."

My stomach flipped and my heart knocked hard against my chest a few times. His statement required a sarcastic answer, but I had nothing. I grappled for some way to respond. I needed a little outrage, with a dash of consent and humor thrown in.

I gasped, widened my eyes, patted at my mouth with my fingers and pretended to shake. "You'd allow that?"

"Yes." He averted my gaze for a second or two. I thought his cheeks might have reddened, but it could've been the cold. He found my eyes again. "It's quite an honor. I'm sure you realize."

As I prepared to say something snarky, I was blindsided by an irrational fear. To be his girlfriend meant I would probably lose him. Breaking up and moving on always seemed like the final stage of a relationship. I didn't know if I wanted to set myself up for that kind of hurt. To commit to it.

But then he smiled, and those thoughts were like some horror movie I'd just walked out of - far off in the light of day, and not real.

"I just don't see how I can pass up such a rare opportunity," I said.

"You can't. And since you didn't thank me, I'll assume your gratitude is implied by your acceptance."

I shrugged one shoulder. "Obviously."

Bren grinned and put his arm around me. I gazed out ahead of us, at Frey's dreads fanned out beneath his rainbow hat, his head bobbing to whatever was on his iPod, at Frieda laughing at Dag, one braid slung over the back of their chair, at the summit slowly appearing above the snowline as we ascended.

Bren pulled me closer to him, and I let my head drop onto his shoulder.

Chapter 11.

"Come back to the apartment with us," Frieda said to me as we lifted our boards off the snow. Bren grabbed my hand.

"Yeah," Frey said. "Val will definitely want to meet you."

"Don't be such a a"" Frieda started.

"Ladies!" Frey yelled over her head, turning his attention to two blondes standing at the bottom of the bunny hill. They turned, one pouting, the other flashing him a lusty smile as they watched him approach.

"Where were you?" Pouty asked.

"Where was I?" Frey said incredulously, bouncing a finger off his chest. "Where were you? I've been looking for you all morning." Lusty's smile grew lustier.

"He's so full of crap," Frieda said, turning back to me. "So are you coming? Bren and I don't have to work today, and Dag doesn't start until later. I don't know what the hell dust mop over there is doing, but who cares."

Bren watched me, waiting. I wondered if I'd have to tell my mother where I'd be, then glanced at my new board and felt guilt wash through me. I knew she didn't really want me with Bren, but I couldn't keep lying to her, not after what she'd done for me this morning.

"Coming?" Bren asked.

"Yeah," I said, dragging out the word while I put together a plan. "Just give me a few minutes to clean up." He opened his mouth to speak, but I continued before he could talk me out of anything. "And I have to talk to my mom. She bought me all this stuff this morning, so I should really go say *thanks' and tell her what I'm doing."

Bren's face softened. The sun sparkled in his eyes. "Okay," he said. "Go talk to your mom. You can meet us when you're finished."

Sometimes he was painful to look at, so I turned to Frieda. I was surprised when she took two quick steps toward me and curled her arms around my neck, but managed to hug her back before she stepped away. "Thanks for coming with me today," she said. "See you later?"

I nodded, a happy tightening in my throat.

"We can get back this way," Bren said, pointing off behind the lower lodge. "Can you manage the bunny lift by yourself?"

"Funny." I pushed him and he let himself give until he stumbled, then he glanced over my shoulder.

"Hey!" He barked. Frey turned back toward us. "Heading back." Frey waved him off and turned back to the two girls.

As they walked away, Frieda leaned close to Dag and he dipped his head so he could hear her. Suddenly, they stopped and he turned around. "HeyaJenna," he said. I stared at him with what I was sure was a hyper-curious expression. He hadn't addressed me directly all day. Or ever.

"You did good today." He said. "I mean, you're learning fast. Soathat's good."

As he stood watching me, I realized he was waiting for something that would dismiss him, put him out of his misery.

"Oh. Thanks. Thanks for letting me come up with you guys."

He nodded, tried a flat smile, then turned back to Bren and Frieda. They waved and walked on past the lodge.

Leaning my board outside the sliders, I grabbed the door handle and stopped cold.

Through the glass I saw Tyler in his varsity jacket, balanced on crutches, and next to him a slim, bald man in a black polo shirt talking violently enough to bring the blood to his face and jabbing a finger. I followed his joust across to Mr. Neil, standing in front of the desk in a ski sweater and jeans a" obviously attempting to take the day off a" his palms raised in a calming gesture. My mother stood just behind him, a sympathetic look arranged on her face.

I heaved the door open and Tyler's eyes immediately flicked to mine. His face paled.

"Your policies don't apply here," the jouster was saying. "This is cut and dried."

"Not necessarily Richard, now I can't just get one side of the story and a""

"One side of the story? There is no story. There is no side. There is only what happened. I am telling you and my son is telling you what happened." Tyler's father, who looked so much like Tyler that anyone in sight could get a good look into Tyler's balding, angry future, slapped the back of one hand into the palm of the other.

"My son was on the raceway this morning during first tracks hour." He slapped his palm again. "This group of snowboarders, these Bergans, who had no business on the raceway in the first place if they weren't looking to cause trouble, deliberately attacked my son." Another palm slap. "They pushed him down the gully and into the ravine, and then one of them a" the cretin with the red hair a" came after him. These are the facts. My son came home soaked. His knee is sprained. There's a gash on the back of his head. What more evidence do you need for Christ's sake Dennis? My son is a varsity athlete, what do you expect him to do during lacrosse season, host Pampered Chef parties with his mother?"

My legs went weak. I stood there, nauseated by the idea of Bren, of all of them, hurting anyone because of me. And just as suddenly I was furious that he had gone after Tyler when I had told him not to, that he had brought this down on my mother and Mr. Neil.

"I understand your frustration," Mr. Neil said. "But I have to talk to the Bergans, get their uncle involved, see if there are any groundsa"

"You have grounds for immediate dismissal," Tyler's father said.

And my anger changed to absolute panic just like that. It was what I had been afraid of moments agoaof losing him. The threat seemed to descend on us right away, like those birds that ate strawberries just as they turned pink, before they were even ripe enough for humans to enjoy. All you were left with were empty vines.

I crossed my arms over my chest and saw my mother eye me as I took a few steps toward Tyler. I stopped a couple feet away to indicate that he should hobble over to where I was, just out of earshot. He hesitated, still pale, the muscles in his neck tensing, then planted his crutches ahead of him and shuffled over. His limp looked exaggerated a" he kept shifting the pressure from one leg to the other and moved too slowly a" but there was a cut high on his cheekbone, and one of his knees definitely looked bigger than the other, although whether from swelling or from an ace bandage I did not know. The two men, still arguing, didn't even notice he had moved.

"What happened?" I asked stiffly.

"It doesn't have anything to do with you." He said.

"How do you know it was Bren?" I said, staring at him. He wouldn't make eye contact.

"What do you mean, *how do I know?' I saw them."

"Riders wear helmets. It's kind of a policy here," I said. "And it's cold in the mornings, so I can't imagine that they didn't have hats and scarves and all kinds of stuff on their faces.

"So?" Tyler stared at the floor.

"So it doesn't seem like you'd know for sure. If it was them. Not for sure." It was like my words weren't my own, like I was following a script. I didn't even recognize myself.

Tyler's head jerked up, his eyes narrow. "What are you saying?"

I shrugged. "I'm just saying that, you know, you got a pretty good bump on the head last night a" although you clearly told your father it happened this morning. So if you don't remember the facts surrounding that, then I'm just concerned about what else you might not be remembering clearly."

Tyler's mouth turned down in a scowl. "That's bullshit and you know it." Then his expression smoothed again. He nodded. "Ah, I get how it is. You have something going with one of those guys, right? That's why you didn't want to do anything. Probably that guy Bren, now that Brianna's moved on."

That hurt, but only for a second.

"So those guys came after me because of you." He leaned in close to me, his scowl returning. "My knee is sprained because of you. I miss lacrosse season because of you, you little bitch."

"Jenna," my mother said, casting a vigilant glance in our direction, "what's going on over there?"

I held up a hand. "One sec, Mom."

Tyler's father was still jabbering at Mr. Neil.

I glared at Tyler, my eyes slits, my jaw clenched even as I kept a smile on my face to make the discussion appear friendly. "Listen Tyler," I said. "People make mistakes all the time when they're trying to remember things. I thought that I may have made a mistake in remembering what you did to me last night, for example. But if you're saying that your memory is that good, even with that giant bump on your head and getting attacked this morning and all, well then, I guess my memory about last night has to be at least that good." I smiled wider. "That's nice to know, that I can recount every detail of what happened last night to the proper authorities with absolute certainty."

Tyler paled again. The line of his mouth wavered, as if he couldn't decide whether he was happy or sad, then he shook his head, eyes blazing.