Free One Foot Onto the Ice by Kiki Archer Page B

remember ever having to.”
    “That just shows what a great person you were. You stuck up for
all of us geeks.”
    “You weren’t a geek!”
    Susan felt flattered. “Well I certainly wasn’t one of the cool
girls like you and Andrea.” She sucked on her bottom lip. “Tell me the one
resounding memory you have of me from school.” She knew what Jenna’s answer would
be and she wanted to get it out in the open as soon as possible.
    Jenna smiled. “That’s easy.”
    Here we go , thought Susan turning her attention to
the mountains that had been travelling along beside them, bracing herself for a
discussion about the quiff.
    Jenna leaned forwards in her seat in a deliberate attempt to catch
Susan’s eye. “I remember how much more beautiful you looked than me when we
wore the same blue polka-dot dress at the school prom.”
    Susan flushed with colour. “That’s not it.”
    “It is,” smiled Jenna.
    “You’re good, I give you that.”
    “Good at what?”
    Susan looked at the kind brown eyes and smiling dimple. “Being
charismatic. There must be something else you remember about me from school?”
    “Yes, I told you, how you were always top of the class, winning
awards—”
    “No, something else.”
    Jenna frowned. “Like what? Did I miss something?”
    Susan thought about it for a second then smiled. She took a deep
breath and turned back to the mountain, this time hiding a different sort of embarrassment.
    “I thought you were great at school, Susan. You were too smart to
be friends with someone like me though.”
    Susan spun back around. “As if! You were too cool to be friends
with someone like me.”
    Jenna reached back into the zipper on her sleeve. She handed over
the small silver hip flask. “Shall we toast to being friends?”
    Susan took the offering, twisted the lid, and laughed. “Why ever
not?”
    “Better late than never,” said Jenna, watching her old classmate
take a swig of the sweet tasting liquor.
    “Ooo, it’s good,” giggled Susan.
    “What are you two drinking?” hollered Priggy Bunton-Chatsworth
from ten metres below.
    “None of your business, you nosy parker,” shouted Jenna,
discreetly taking the flask from Susan and slipping it back into her jacket
pocket.
    “Shouldn’t you two be talking about boys,” shouted Susan, trying
to join in the fun.
    Jenna looked at Susan and spoke slowly. “You know Priggy’s gay,
right?”
    Susan almost choked back some of the brandy. “Good heavens, no.”
    Jenna nodded. “She is, and she has quite a big crush on you.”
    Susan turned back around and looked down at the pretty girls chatting
away on the chair below. “She isn’t.” She shook her head. “She doesn’t.”
    Jenna nodded more slowly. “She is and she does. She told me and I
heard her.”
    “Heard her what?”
    “Talking to Champagne about you. She’s not shy about it. You
should be flattered.”
    Susan shifted in her seat. “You’re wrong. But if you’re right then
it makes me feel terribly uncomfortable.”
    “Don’t sweat it. Everyone had a crush on their teacher. Who was yours?
Mine was Madam Rigby.”
    Susan coughed lightly. “Just because you’re of that persuasion, doesn’t
mean everyone else is.”
    “Oh Susan, it was going so well.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Nothing. Relax. Tell me about Marcus. Are you tempted?”
    Susan, against her best efforts, laughed. “You always manage to
get people on side, don’t you?”
    “Do I?”
    “Yes. You were like it at school. That’s why everyone loved you.”
She looked down at the wide piste and studied the skiers carving their own
tracks in the snow. “Marcus wants to take me out on a date, but I’m not so
sure.”
    “Is there someone else?”
    “No.”
    Jenna watched Susan’s eyes as they followed the path of an elegant
skier gliding gracefully over the white powder. “Has there been someone else?”
    Susan looked back up. “What do you mean?”
    “Past boyfriends or girlfriends that are