muscles tremble with exhaustion, and we haven’t even made it down the bunny hill. “Do you forgive me?”
“No.” I let him haul me to the far side of the slope, out of the way of the families with children that don’t even look old enough to walk, yet seem to know exactly what to do as they plow down the mountainside on their skis and boards.
“I’ll have to see what I can do to change that.” Even though he still has his goggles on, I don’t miss that wink he shoots me. “Okay, so let’s sit down and get the other boot strapped in.” He pulls my foot into the bindings like earlier. “Since you’re a goofy rider—”
“Shut it—”
“No,” he laughs, “it’s just what they call it when you ride with your right foot forward. I’m goofy, too, so it will make things easier. I’m going to stand right behind you and help you angle down the hill. We’re going to take it nice and slow, Maggie. You don’t need to be scared.”
Nothing about his statement provides any calm, mostly because I have no idea what he’s talking about, and also because the thought of him at my back as I fumble down the hill sends a wave of chills up my spine. Well, I’ve had chills all over, really, ever since I set foot in the snow. But these ones aren’t brought on by the cold.
“Okay, let’s get you up.” Ran slants his board so he’s immediately behind me, and when he grabs onto my waist, those chills from my spine flood into my brain and shock my entire nervous system. “Because I think you can handle it, we’re going to go straight to garland.”
“Uh, okay.” It’s clear that I’m just not going to understand any of this lingo and will have to rely on Ran to teach me everything.
“So your board is flexible.” He holds me in place. “It’s flexible tip to tail, but it’s also flexible toe edge to heel edge, too.” He gently pushes me forward, just enough so that I’m forced to catch my balance by gripping my toes against the boots. It would probably be easier to do if they weren’t so numb. “Since it bends in so many directions, you’ll be able to take advantage of that as you shift your weight from your toes to your heels. Does that make sense?” As Ran’s explaining, he pulls at my hipbones and draws me closer to his hips. I try to regulate my breathing, because I don’t want to fog up my goggles right now. As much as I’d like to keep my eyes closed, I really need them open.
“I guess.”
“Okay.” He keeps his hands on my hips. “So garlands are just small turns. Like picture Christmas garland and how it curves. That’s the design we’re going to make in the snow.”
I nod and shiver at the same time.
“So you know how I said your board is flexible? It can twist side to side, kinda like wringing out a towel. So when you alternate your pressure—pressing one foot down and lifting up on the other—your board will twist.”
“Got it.” I don’t really, but I need him to continue explaining so I can focus on something other than his hands that are still around my waist.
“Okay. So a garland really is just a series of half-turns, without changing edges. We’re going to start with a heelside garland okay?” I nod. “We’ll slowly head down the hill, pointing our board toward the fall line, and then we’re going to shift our weight backward to slow up by lifting our toes. Got that?”
I nod several more times, but I didn’t catch any of it. Heelside, garland, and fall line make absolutely no sense to me. Flustered, ruffled, and distracted—those are words I understand much better at the moment.
“After we slow from that, we’ll press our weight to our front toes and the edge will lift out of the hill and the board will turn toward the fall line again, okay? We’ll just keep doing that over and over until it feels good, alright?”
I think the only part about this snowboarding debacle that feels good is having Ran’s hands on me. And even that holds just enough tension in it that it borders on tormenting instead, because all I really want to do is flip around, rip off this stupid board, and tackle him in the pile of the fresh powder that clings to the edge of the