A Matter of Trust(5)
“Stop it, Ollie!”
But he turned around in the chair and shouted to the pair behind them. “Bradley! If I make it, be sure to get it on video!”
She didn’t have to look to know that his stupid friend probably gave him a thumbs-up.
“You’re not—stop it.” She grabbed his jacket and pulled him back, her other hand in an iron grip on the bar.
He laughed. “Calm down. I was just kidding. I just like our little game.” He gave her a wink.
“That wasn’t funny. I’m having a flashback of when you were six and I was—”
“Ninety-three?” Oliver glanced at her, grinning. Only his face stuck out of the hole right under the inflatable costume’s head. He’d shoved the legs into his snowboarder boots.
“Can you even move in that thing?”
“Sure. It’s a little tight, but I’m going to get so many hits once we post this on YouTube. I’ll be nearly as famous as you.”
“Funny.”
Under that ridiculous costume was a good kid. He couldn’t help it that he’d experienced a completely different childhood than hers. Grown up with different parents, different expectations.
Wealth and security.
“I just have to know—why the T. rex outfit?”
“Are you kidding me? T. rex videos are killing it. When we put this up—”
“Stop. I can’t hear this. Let me get this straight. You dropped out of your very prestigious private college so you could become a ski bum in a Tyrannosaurus rex costume? This is why you broke your parents’ hearts?”
“I didn’t break their hearts.” His smile dimmed. “And they’re your parents too.”
She’d forgotten how the wind off Blackbear could slither inside her jacket, find her bones, rattle them. “Legally. But you know they love you the best—and for good reason. Even though we were both adopted, I was just their ward. You are their son. You’re everything to them, and now you’re not only going to get hurt but you’ll look ridiculous doing it.”
Oliver’s mouth tightened. “I won’t get hurt.”
“Maybe not, but what’s next, Ollie? BASE jumping?”
“I dunno. Maybe I’ll go to Outlaw.”
She stilled. Took a breath, dug deep, and this time hung on to her inner attorney, refusing to let Ollie undo her. No, she grabbed for the woman who’d been a state senator for two years, one of the youngest in the nation. She’d stood her ground in front of tougher opponents than her kid brother.
Still, just the name—Outlaw Mountain—and the memory behind it left wounds.
“If you did, I’d know you were really stupid,” she said crisply and looked away, a little unnerved at the gloss filming her eyes. She blinked before they iced over.
The patrol had lowered the kid to the snow and pulled the rope free of the lift. He seemed unhurt but shaken.
Oliver fell silent as they watched. Then, “I’m sorry.”
She nodded.
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here. I know what I’m doing.”
“Which is?”
“I’m not cut out for school, okay? I failed nearly every class last semester—”
“Because you were partying! Don’t tell me you weren’t smoking pot, Ollie. You couldn’t hide it from me in high school, and you can’t hide it now—”
“I wasn’t high, Ella. I was . . . not smart. I studied. I went to class. I want to be—I wanted Mom and Dad to be as proud of me as they are of you.”
She could hardly take him seriously in that inane costume. “Mansfield and Marj love you—”
“But they’re proud of you.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m never going to be a lawyer or . . .” He looked over at her. “A state senator.”
“You might—”
“I don’t want to be that. I’m sorry, sis, but your idea of fun is a bowl of popcorn and a political debate. Sorry, I know I should care, but I don’t. I like powder boarding. I just need some breathing room, okay? I’ll figure it out. You’ll see. I’ll do something amazing and it’ll blow you all away. So you can pack up and go back to Vermont and save somebody else.”
And, with a jolt, the lift started.
“Too bad,” Ollie murmured. “I could’ve made that jump.”
She closed her eyes.
They rode in silence, and she averted her eyes as they passed the bloody smudge in the snow. The ski patrollers skied on either side of the rescued snowboarder; the kid clearly looked rattled as he rode down the bowl. She couldn’t see the other patroller anymore. Maybe he’d reached the bottom.