Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

CODY

S he’s so bad at skiing, it’s funny. She’s like a dog on roller skates. No coordination. No rhythm. No damn idea what she’s doing. It’s cute. Finally, there’s something I know more about than Darcy. I have the ability to teach her something. I feel like an all-powerful king.

“You’re a shit teacher, Cody!” Darcy roars after losing her balance for the third time in five minutes, and we haven’t even made it past pizza then french fry style skiing. We’re not even on the slope yet today and I’m still just trying to teach her the basics.

Alright. So maybe I’m not a respected king, but I am a king nonetheless.

“Maybe you’re just a shit listener!” I yell back, straining my voice to be heard above the heavy winds that rolled in overnight. It’s not a very good day to teach a beginner. It’s extra cloudy, extra cold, and extra snowy. All recipes for disaster. With my luck, I’ll have another girl laid up with a sprained ankle by sundown.

“What?!” Darcy calls, wobbling too much for my comfort.

I start to make a comment that she’s just proved my exact point, but she’s struggling enough as it is. I decide to have mercy.

“Nothing! Never mind!”

One of my other clients, a regular who’s been coming to the resort for several years now, Randall, comes up beside me. He’s an older man, hair fully gray with just a few specs of brown in the front. He looks older than he really is and he’s freaked me out more than once with the risks he takes on the slopes. The paperwork I’d have to fill out if he got himself hurt would be a complete nightmare.

“She’s a firecracker,” he exclaims with a boisterous chuckle. “Like my ex-wife, Martha. Same red hair, too.”

What I want to say is, “Great, now go away, creepy old man,” but what I actually say because—as my boss likes to reiterate— the customer is always right , “Yes, sir, she is a special one. Or at least, I like to think so.”

I look over at Darcy and find her glowering at me.

Oh, I am so dead once we get off this mountain.

Randall moves toward Darcy, and I know, without any shadow of doubt, that we are both completely and utterly screwed.

“Hey, Red!” he greets her. “What’s your name?”

Darcy is clearly trying with all of her efforts to focus, but she manages to grit her teeth and hiss, “None of your business, old man. Back off.”

Randall laughs. “Oh, feisty! I’ve known girls like you. The red hair makes the temper.”

I know I need to step in. I need to help her. But before I even have the chance, Darcy snaps back. “This temper is going to make you sorry if you don’t back the fuck off, dude.”

Randall does not seem dissuaded in the slightest. “Aren’t you quick?! Say, why don’t I buy you a drink tonight? Something sweet. We can have some fun.”

That’s my cue to interfere. I get between them—which is a challenge because Darcy is all over the place—and herd Randall toward the trees. We both stop and square up to one another while Darcy slides to a stop behind us.

“That’s enough, Randall,” I demand. “She’s not interested.”

“Oh, yeah, kid? Well, I am. Now stay out of my business before I have a very lengthy chat with your boss about your attitude.”

“You can get me fired for all I damn well care,” I tell him, my jaw clenched painfully tight. “Stay the hell away from Darcy.”

Randall watches me, then Darcy, then me again.

“She’s your woman? Well, shit, kid, why didn’t you say so? I wouldn’t have interfered if I knew she was yours.”

I blanch at him. “‘ My woman?’ No. She’s a fucking person, Randall, not a pet. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Randall scoffs. “‘Pet’? Please, Cody, I would never insinuate?—”

“But you did! Even if she was ‘my woman’ which she most certainly is not, who the fuck do you think you are getting up in her face like that?”

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I hear Darcy say my name, but I’m too angry to stop. I think I might hit this pathetic old man.

Even old Randall seems nervous now. He shifts his weight back and forth between his feet, and I have the fleeting thought that I could push him over and send him toppling down this hill. No one would ever have to know.

“I said I’m sorry, kid?—”

I lose control over myself. I shove him, and he stumbles on his feet, just barely managing to catch himself.

“Don’t call me ‘kid!’”

I’m in his face. I can hear his short, fearful breaths.

“I’m not your fucking kid!”

“Cody, stop!” Darcy yells, trying to tug me back, but I’m too strong for her. There’s nothing she can do to stop me.

“Tell Darcy that you’re sorry for being a perverted douche,” I demand. For good measure, I grab Randall by the sleeve of his overstuffed jacket and give him a good shake. I couldn’t possibly describe the satisfaction I get from the terrified whimper he makes. Like a damn baby.

Randall’s eyes don’t leave mine. His voice shakes. His hands tremble at his sides. “I-I’m sorry, Darcy.”

I give him another good shake. “Say it like you mean it, old man. Apologize.”

“I’m sorry, Darcy!” he cries. “I’m truly very sorry! I didn’t mean anything by what I said, but I see now that I was wrong, and I apologize to you for my behavior.”

Darcy stomps up to us and shoves me away from Randall. I stumble back in surprise and see the anger burning Darcy’s face a shade of bright red.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. I’m not fucking helpless, Cody.”

She’s mad at me. Why is she mad at me? He was the one objectifying her. I was only trying to help.

“I don’t think you’re help—” I start, but she interrupts.

“I’m done. I knew this was a bad idea.” She grabs her skis and starts stomping down the mountain before I can even think of what to say. I just stare after her in surprise.

“See?” Randall gestures toward Darcy. “I told you she was feisty.”

“Fuck off, Randall.” I push past the man and try to go after Darcy, but she’s already too far gone to reach without running and making a fool of myself.

And the worst part is that I don’t even know what I did wrong.