Free Slippery Slopes by Emily Franklin Page A

they’re nervous?”
    Melissa rolls her eyes. “Just a tad. I mean, this race is the single biggest indicator of who goes on to win the gold medal at the …”
    “Oh my god, listen to yourself. ‘The single biggest indicator.’ Hah. Who’s been spending too much time with a certain pair of skiing boys?”
    Melissa cuts across the back of the snowy expanse near the Main House. To the left she can see the holly-trimmed edge of the ice skating pond. In her mind she imagines the scene at night, when the ball is taking place, with everything silvery and perfect. The world will glisten then, with decorations, music, and nothing will go wrong — except, of course, for the fact that I will be dateless for the evening.
    Dove can automatically tell what Melissa’s thinking by the way her mouth twists into a frown. It’s the same expression I get when I think about Claire and Max. “Mel—it’s not like you’ll be alone….”
    “But it’s not the same thing. You have …”
    “Max, I know.” Dove’s hand flies to her mouth and she cough-laughs in surprise. “Oh my god, I meant William….”
    “Sure you did.” Dove and Melissa exchange a look. “Look, all I meant was that you’re not really alone. You have—William.” She says his name slowly to reinforce its weight.
    Dove nods. “You’re right. I do have William. But to be honest it doesn’t give me that much comfort.” She pulls at a few pine needles from one of the trees. “We first kissed right over there…. It feels like a long time ago.” How is it that Max’s birthday and everything that happened with Claire feels more recent? Maybe because it’s still happening. Dove sighs, knowing that she has pounds of fudge to bake for the dessert buffet later tonight, and sighs harder when she remembers how much Claire loves fudge. “She’ll probably ask him to feed it to her.”
    Melissa looks at her like she’s crazy. “What?”
    Dove pats her back. “Never mind. Just getting ahead of myself. Back to the ball … how are the plans coming?” Will I even get to go to the ball? God, now I really feel like Cinderella. And why would I? I’ll be too busy packing for my flight the next day.
    “The plans are actually great. It’s me that’s the problem. Being at a fancy dress ball without a date isn’t the end of the world, I’ll grant you that.” Melissa trudges forward, her boots crunching on the snow. “But it’s not romantic. Especially when there’s someone you want to go with …” She looks down, sliding her sunglasses over her eyes as the bright light reflects off the ground.
    “Oh, we’re calling him ‘someone’ now?” Dove laughs. “Between your boys and mine, we’re a mess.” Melissa nods, laughing, too. An announcement in French comes over the loudspeaker. “Oh—quick—it’s the Super G. Let’s hurry!”
    Melissa picks up her pace, moving fast so she can secure a spot on the sidelines to watch someone—two someones—race at breakneck speeds. She takes one look over her shoulder at all the footsteps she’s made in the snow. I really have come a long way, she thinks. How is it possible that in such a short time I could go from having no love interests to being stuck between two impossible guys and one crazy job? Taking the last couple of steps up to the sloping mountainside, she and Dove clamber to the front of the crowd, squeezing in so they’ll be right at the finishing line. Yes, lots of steps behind me, she thinks as the announcer introduces the skiers. Gabe Schroeder. James Marks-Benton. And lots of steps still to come.
    Dotted along the mountainsides like bright confetti are paparazzi, camera crews, reporters thrusting microphones this way and that, and many, many fans.
    “Could there be more attractive females in a small area?” Dove asks, searching the crowd for Max. Having forgotten her sunglasses, she uses her hand to block the rays and frowns when she can’t find him. Melissa watches her look. “It’s not