Page 8 of Desiring Destiny

As I approach the lift for the bunny hill, something in me protests at the last minute. I didn’t come all this way to play it safe. That’s what I was doing with Griffin. If I really want to prove myself and have an adventure, I need a challenge.

I step to the side, letting the chair pass me as I make my way to a different lift. This one goes to a slightly harder slope. I think. Now that I’m standing here, however, I’m a bit confused. The lifts with the blue seats go to the easier hills while the red seats go to the medium-difficulty slopes. The seat coming toward me, however, is black.What does that mean?

I don’t have time to question it any further before I’m swept off my feet and into the air. I grip the side of the lift to steady myself, then I pull the overhead bar down to secure myself in place.

Huh, there really isn’t hardly anyone up here. In fact, I don’t see another living soul on this particular lift. Am I really the only one skiing right now?

My earlier thought of not wanting witnesses seems short-sighted now. I could use a witness or two. What if I’m way overestimating how difficult this is going to be? I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.

There's no time to worry about the what-ifs now. The lift is approaching the top of the slope and I can either hop off or keep riding all the way back down without skiing. Part of me really, really,reallywants to stay on the lift. It’s safe and familiar. It’s also boring and predictable, two things I’m trying not to be anymore.

I take a deep breath and lift the safety bar before hopping off the seat. I let out a whoop of excitement when I land on my feet, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. I’ll ski down to the bottom and show Griffin, myself, and my grandma that I can do hard things and go outside of my comfort zone.

“Okay, Destiny,” I say to myself. “You can do this. Pizza wedge to stop, French fries to move.”

I’m about to push off and make my way down when the sound of screeching metal fills the air. I look up, surprised to see the ski lift I was just on come to a halt.Okay, that’s strange…

With no other way back down the mountain, I’m more determined than ever to ski my way to safety.

“Pizza wedge, pizza wedge, pizza wedge,” I repeat under my breath as I start to slide forward.

Okay, this isn’t so bad. I’m moving a little faster than I’d like, but that’s fine. I’m fine. I’m sure I can slow down at any time–

"Oh!" I exclaim when my skis lift slightly off the snow. I lean back on instinct, but this throws my balance off. Pushing myself forward on my skis, I try to even out my weight as I crouch lower to the ground. I'm zipping down the mountain in my new position, the wind blowing past me and making it hard to straighten up.

I gain more speed and attempt to turn my skis inward to form the ever-important pizza wedge, but it feels like my feet are stuck in the French fry pose.What if I do a reverse pizza wedge? Will that help anything?

No. No, it will not.

“Crap, crap, crap… Oh, god… Oh, crap…”

I veer off to the right and cover my face with my hands as I crash into the snow and start rolling. One ski snaps clean off my boot while the other drags behind me, eventually getting caught in some fallen branches that help bring me to a stop.

You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, I say to myself as I roll over onto my back. I do a body scan, relieved that all of my limbs and fingers are still attached. I’m a little banged up and I’m sure I’ll have some lovely purple bruises from my fall, but it could be worse. Nothing feels broken or sprained.

I sit up, still hoping someone else is out here on the mountain. It’s so weird that everyone seemed to disappear the second I got onto the ski lift. Looking around at the trees and endless miles of snow, I realize I must have rolled quite a distance from the original path.

“Great,” I mutter to myself as I slowly stand up. “Nothing is broken but I still might freeze to death.”

As if the universe was listening in on my private thoughts, a few snowflakes flutter down from the sky. And then a few more. And then a ton more. The wind picks up and within seconds, I can hardly see more than two feet in front of me.

I plop back down in the snow, defeated and unsure what to do next. I’m such a fucking fool. So stupid and naive, even more than my grandma or anyone thought possible. Now I’m going to die a Destiny-cicle up here on the mountain. They might not find me until spring when the snow melts. At least I won’t have to experience Christmas without my grandma.

Not helping, my brain warns.

I never should have attempted something so dangerous on my own. I guess I have no idea how to have an adventure. I’ll either always play it safe or take things way too far. Why am I like this? Why didn’t I tell anyone where I was going?

As the snow whips around me and stings my face, I finally understand why no one was up on the mountain and why the ski lifts stopped as soon as I got up here. There must have been a storm warning and the resort shut down the mountain to ensure no one got trapped up here like I am right now. Perfect. No one will be looking for me. Could this get any worse?

5

GRIFFIN

“Have fun at the spa,” I tell my mother as she gives me a tight squeeze. “And let me know if you need anything in your cabin.”

“I will,” she promises. “I’m just glad there was an open three-bedroom on such short notice! We were only going to stay for the afternoon, but that storm just came out of nowhere.”

“You know there will always be room for you here at Frosted Mountain. Between Mrs. Reinhold and myself, we’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”