When they stood, ready to ski, he whispered, “Just friends? So how come you just put two laces through the same hole in your right boot when you looked at my mouth?”
Thoroughly rattled, not knowing what to do, she looked down and saw he was right.
“Oh, yeah. We’re definitely ‘just friends.’” Jean-Claude laughed and started down the most difficult chute while she knelt to fix her boot.
That had been the beginning of their long slide into love.
Then, at the state championships when they were seniors, Jean, his dark hair heart-wrenchingly mussed from having pulled off his ski cap, leaned down from the awards stand so a judge could slip the blue ribbon holding a gold medal for the downhill over his head. He winked at Riley in the audience while the host school’s band played their Mountain Senior High School’s song.