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“So, that thing is meant to take us to the top,” Lacy asked skeptically, watching as a group of older teenagers hopped on the chairlift. “And then we just ski back down?”
“Yup, it’s really simple. Follow me.”
Lacy wasn’t sure that Gracie’s, who was born and raised in a ski resort town, idea of simple when it came to skiing was the same as hers, the girl from Brooklyn who probably looked like the Pillsbury Dough Boy in her puffy white jacket. At least her snow pants were pink, which marred the Dough Boy look from the waist down, because she could not deal with those accusations in her life.
“Alright, we’re next.”
Lacy waddled towards the chairlift, her poles awkwardly hitting the ground and the skis almost smacking against each other as she tried to walk towards the lift. Gracie giggled, but held out her tight hand to help—she had both her poles clutched in her left—which Lacy graciously took, despite it being awkward with both their hands around her own pole.. With a little difficulty, Lacy ended up on the chairlift, and Gracie joined her with ease.
“Showoff,” mumbled Lacy.
Gracie grinned. “I’ve been doing this since I could walk.” She swung her legs, her poles across her lap just as Lacy’s were. “And you’ve literally never skied a day in your life, city kid.”
“It’s not my fault we have no mountains in Brooklyn,” Lacy argued. She looked over the side, at Dollar Mountain cascading underneath them. “Are you sure we’re on the right lift? That looks difficult.”
“I’m sure,” Gracie said. “This is the Green Slope, which is the easiest. I normally do Black Diamond.”
“And that’s?”
“The most intense one.”
“Don’t take me on that.”
Gracie laughed. “Wasn’t planning on it, Lace.”
“Thank the gods.”
When they reached the top of the slope, Gracie jumped off, and held out her hand for Lacy. Lacy grabbed it, and slid off, barely managing to stay standing long enough to move away from the chairlift and not get smacked.
“Alright, watch me.”
Gracie used her poles to push herself, easily moving farther away from the lift and towards the top of the mountain, where the other beginners were staring at her with envy. “See, easy!”
“Right,” Lacy muttered. She put her poles on the ground, and pushed towards Gracie, moving slowly. Except, she hit a slightly steeper slope, and her skis went out from behind her, and she wiped out, and tumbled to the ground.
“Lace!”
Gracie skied over to her, and held out her hand to help Lacy up. Lacy reached out, and tried to stand up, listening to Gracie’s instructions on how to put the skis underneath her. She failed. Instead, she yanked Gracie far too hard, and Gracie collapsed on top of her with a yelp of surprise.
“Sorry!” yelled Lacy.
Gracie stood up easily, wiping the snow from her snow pants and puffy coat. “No need to apologize. We just tumbled in love with each other.”
Lacy stared up at her. “That was awful.”
Gracie’s smile was as expansive as the mountain range around them. “One of us is related to a poetry deity.”
“That doesn’t make it good! If anything, I learned when your dad was mortal that his poetry is subpar.”
Gracie’s giggle was one of Lacy’s favorite sounds in the world. “Let’s actually get you standing, so I can show you the ropes. Don’t yank me down this time.”
“No promises.”
By the time the returned to the lodge that Gracie’s mother worked at, both girls were covered in snow dust, and when Gracie’s mom, bustling to make them hot chocolate, asked what had happened, Gracie had given Lacy her signature grin that warmed her up faster than any cup of cocoa and told her, “We’ve just got a tumbling love, Mom.”