Chapter Text
MONDAY, 13:21
“There’s no way you’re getting the top bunk, Magnus,” Jonas proclaims authoritatively, hoisting his bag on the mattress. “You wake up to pee every three hours. That’s a recipe for a disaster.”
Isak cracks a grin, but hums in agreement. Happy with his own chosen bed, the one closest to the window, he unzips his bag to start unpacking. Three shirts later, Mahdi’s behind him, curiously peering over his shoulder.
“So, did you bring the booze?” he asks, not bothering to hide his excitement. As if on cue, Magnus materializes by his side, equally enthusiastic.
Isak continues folding his clothes onto the small shelf above his bed, not looking at them. “Eskild wouldn’t get it for me,” he says, muffled.
At first the boys are silent, but a storm of disappointed shouts follows soon after his admission. “You said he’d get us some of the good stuff.” “We were counting on you, Isak!” “I only brought boxed appletini, man. I thought you had us covered!”
“Relax, guys, I came prepared,” Jonas steps in, just as Isak starts fearing that the guys might start tugging at his sleeves in exaggerated frustration. “In fact, I came prepared with a whole bag of something.”
All three of them turn to face Jonas, then look at the bag he’s thrown over the top bunk. He follows their gaze, confused. Then proceeds to look back and forth between his friends and the bag, over-spilling with clothes, until he bursts out in a wave of swears.
“Goddammit, I knew I shouldn’t have put it in the pantry. I completely forgot!”
Magnus and Mahdi return to their previous breakdown, but Isak quirks an eyebrow at Jonas. “Did you hide your alcohol in the family pantry?”
Jonas shrugs, dejected. “Yeah, man. Nobody ever goes there unless they’re looking for Christmas decorations.”
Isak smiles, as if to prove his point. “Can’t imagine who would do that two weeks into December.”
There’s silence again, the guys registering his words. “Shit.”
As Jonas proceeds to join the other two in their breakdown, Isak chuckles and returns to his bag. This ski trip is surely shaping up well. Entitled the “Freedom Week 2k16” by the gang, Isak wonders how long it will take them to admit “Disappointment 2k16” would be a more fitting name. Now, if he could only find his gloves.
MONDAY, 20:36
The first night’s not supposed to be a rave, anyway. At least that’s what Jonas told them before they headed over to Eva and her friends’ room. He was definitely right to keep his expectations low.
Isak finds himself sitting on one of the beds, hunched between Sana and Vilde as the two passionately argue about the quality of old Christmas movies.
“You’re a lunatic. They don’t make them like they used to, it’s depressing. There’s only so many times I can get myself into proper Christmas spirit with The Miracle on 34th Street!” Vilde says in lament.
“I’d rather watch Die Hard every Christmas. At least it doesn’t try to make you believe a childish old man is secretly Santa, instead of having some sort of saviour complex coupled with an unfulfilled acting ambition.”
“Have you even seen the movie?”
Isak keeps sending desperate glances at Jonas, but the boy’s sitting in front of Noora’s laptop, enthusiastically watching Jingle All the Way. He’d hope that part of Jonas’ obvious contentment stems from the fact that Eva’s cuddled up to his side; however, he suspects it comes wholly from watching Schwarzenegger compete for a creepy plastic toy amongst an array of Christmas shoppers.
He tunes out the girls’ frantic arguing and skims the room, looking for someone that looks as bored as he feels. Mahdi and Magnus are talking to a couple of girls from third year – well, they’re talking, and they’re in the proximity of some girls from third year. Noora is distributing snacks across the room, imitating Schwarzenegger’s accent as she does so. There’s some second year girls watching the movie; and some obviously not watching it, instead chatting incessantly. A guy from his class seems to be sleeping in the corner of the room, another tugging on his sock to see if he’ll wake up. And then there’s the third year boys, laughing at something by the window.
Isak doesn’t really know any of them, but gets taken aback when one turns around and looks straight at him. His face is frozen in a grin, becoming harder to decipher as he looks at Isak. His hair is coiffed and he’s holding a packet of Noora’s dinosaur crackers. Isak feels himself getting flustered at his gaze, but then –
a pillow flies through the air, a few centimetres from his face.
“You did not just insult Jimmy Stewart!” Vilde says, voice barely contained. Sana, who got hit by the pillow, calmly sets it down and takes a deep breath. Isak, knowing what’s about to ensue, looks back towards the boy, hoping for a rescue. But he’s no longer there.
TUESDAY, 10:05
Isak’s family was never big on skiing. He only remembers a ski holiday back when he was four – his father insisting on teaching him to ski just as soon as he’d learned to cycle. However, the holiday quickly took a turn for the worse, and not only did his parents fight the whole time, his father actually ended up with a head injury. They never booked another ski trip again.
Although he did manage to learn the basics back then, he feels clumsy standing on the skis after such a long time. All around him, people seem to be floating down the hill, graceful in their turns and motions. Families slowly make their way down, holding onto each other’s hands. Some teenagers, not from their school, compete to make it to the bottom of the hill as fast as possible.
“Do you think he’s gonna win this?” Mahdi asks Isaac, nudging his shoulder and pointing in Jonas’ direction. The boy is engaged in a heated debate with their teacher, the rest of the students standing around and watching.
“No way, Gulsvig will break his snowboard before she allows him to ride it,” Isak says, convinced that the matter is going to be settled within minutes.
“Technically, they didn’t specify that we needed to bring skis,” Magnus chimes in, in Jonas’ defence.
“Yes, one would hope that there’s no need to specify that when it comes to a ski trip,” Sana says, turning around from a few metres away.
Jonas lets out one last exasperated plea, then takes off his skateboard and sets off, sulking, down the hill. The teacher immediately turns around to address the students.
“Alright, we’ll first sort you into groups according to your current skill level. Beginners will be with me, intermediates with…”
TUESDAY, 11:36
It doesn’t come as a surprise that Isak ends up in the beginners group, yet he’s disappointed when he realizes all of his friends get sorted into different groups. He was hoping Magnus’ boasts about being a great skier would turn out to be a lie, but alas, the guy was telling truth for once.
The only person he knows in his group is Emma, a girl he’d met at yesterday’s movie party. And the guy with the dinosaur crackers. The one currently standing next to him. The one he’s steadfastly ignoring.
“Now, move your head around in circles. Very gently, though, we don’t want you breaking your necks before you even step onto your skis,” the teacher, Ms Gulsvig, instructs them. “Remember, you need to be properly warmed up before you attempt to do anything more challenging.”
Rows of students proceed to roll their eyes instead of their heads, but comply after a moment. They proceed to follow her instructions to roll their shoulders, shake up their legs, and stretch out their heels, all with varying degrees of effort.
Isak’s unsure about the usefulness of the stretches, but holds his tongue. The guy next to him, however, has been sighing steadily for the last few minutes.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, we’ve been warming up for an hour,” he finally says, snapping, and Isak can’t help but look at him now.
“She just doesn’t want us to kill ourselves under her watch,” he shrugs, suppressing a grin at the boy’s frustrated frown. “Gulsvig’s notorious for not allowing students to chew gum in her classes, in case they end up choking.”
“When you’re flying down that hill, it won’t matter whether you’ve done ten arm swings or five. The only way you can really learn to ski is to – ” the boy says, turning to Isak, pausing as he takes him in. His frown eases.
“Actually ski?” Isak says, helping him finish.
The boy smiles and nods. “Exactly.”
“Then why don’t you just show her how it’s done, eh?” Isak can’t help but say, teasing him. To his surprise, the boy seems to take his challenge seriously.
“You know what, you’re right,” he says, reaching up to pull his ski goggles on. “What’s your name?”
Isak’s breath hitches, taken aback. He registers the rest of the class now moving onto torso twists, but his body remains frozen. “Isak.”
“Great,” the boy grins. “Watch and learn, Isak.”
Without further ado, he steps into his skis, something Ms Gulsvig has expressly forbidden them from doing, and grabs his ski sticks. In a matter of seconds, he’s pushing himself off from his spot, down towards the lodge. Neither are they that high up on the hill, nor is this area very steep, yet he seems to pick up speed very quickly. Although rough around the edges, Isak can see that the boy has some semblance of skill.
“Even Bech Næsheim, just what do you think you’re doing?!” Gulsvig yells once she notices his d from the group.
The boy is almost down now, just a few metres from the lodge. Isak starts thinking that he might pull this off. He also finds himself rooting for him. As soon as the teacher’s shout reaches him, however, the boy seems to stumble over his skis. Balance gone, he glides on his left foot, kicking out the right, his arms splaying out in panic. He tries to regain his composure, but his trajectory shifts rapidly and, all of a sudden, he’s heading towards a tree near the ski lifts. Isak closes his eyes at the last moment; he still hears the impact.
The class, Gulsvig in the lead, immediately runs down towards him. Isak keeps himself to the back, cautious of what he might see when they reach him.
To his surprise, the boy is sitting up, shaken but lively. He’s grinning at the rest of the class, leaning against the tree trunk as if he’s only come here for a moment’s rest.
“And that, friends, is how not to do it,” he says, cheerful. Gulsvig looks like she’s moments from bursting, some of the students seem to be horrified, others are cracking up. The boy – Even – takes them all in, unfazed, then finds Isak in the crowd and shoots him a wink.