“So it’s not as high as it looks?” I venture, praying they’ll be able to talk me out of my fear.
“No, it’s really high. And it sways on windy days like this—feels like you’re going to fall at any minute.”
I gulp down some vomit trying to rise up my throat.
“Okay, cool,” I say, nodding as the line moves forward again.
The cabins are pretty huge, so we’ll all be able to sit together. Thank god.
Soon enough, it’s our turn to go. Not wanting to alert the others to my panic, I step up confidently and take a seat in the waiting gondola before realizing the row of seats across from me is blocked off with yellow tape.
“This one can only fit three,” a crew member says.
There’s no time to reconfigure the groups because the gondola technically never stops moving. It’s like an escalator, constantly in motion, so Aiden and Brent hop on with me, and James, Jolie, and Ford wait for the next one.
Aiden takes the seat beside me and Brent sits beside him.
I can’t even worry about the seating arrangement because already the ground is disappearing from underneath my feet.
OH MY GOD.
Everything is glass. This thing is held together by steel toothpicks, and now I realize what Ron Burgundy meant in Anchorman when he shouted, I’m in a glass case of emotion!
I look down, and the earth slips away little by little. We sweep over white snow and the tops of trees. Ten feet. Twenty. More. I squeeze my eyes shut—but that makes it worse, because without that sense, I’m too aware of the subtle rocking effect. Back and forth we glide, and suddenly I’m demanding that I get out.
“Maddie, look at me,” Aiden insists.
“I can’t.”
“Hey, yes you can. We’re already halfway done. Look at me.”
I peel my eyes open to see Aiden crouched in front of me, his eyes level with mine. His hands are on my legs, squeezing my thighs through my jeans.
His green eyes are all I see.
“You’re okay,” he assures me.
“I want to get out,” I plead again, darting a quick glance to my left. My stomach drops when I see how high up we are now. “I can’t believe I thought I could do this. I can’t. It was a horrible idea and I’d like this torture ride to end now.”
“It’s just a gondola,” Brent says, and I pierce him with my gaze.
OH THANK YOU, BRENT, I DID NOT REALIZE IT WAS JUST A GONDOLA. ALL OF MY FEARS ARE ASSUAGED.
“Hey,” Aiden says, bringing my attention back to him. “Remember that time we went to Serranos in Austin and I dared you to eat the serrano pepper they bring out with the fajitas?”
The memory instantly makes me smile.
“I did it.”
“Yeah, you did it—and it was super hot. You kept saying your mouth was on fire, so they had to bring you a glass of milk. When I made you laugh, the milk came out of your nose.”
I’m laughing now, remembering it. I was so embarrassed I wouldn’t let our waiter clean up the mess; I did it myself.
There’s a heavy clink of metal from above us and then we’re swept into the unloading zone. Aiden takes my mittened hand firmly in his and tugs me out of the cabin after him.
The moment I’m back on solid ground, I breathe a sigh of relief and extricate my hand from his. He stands near me, trying to catch my gaze, but I turn back in time to watch my sister step out of the next cabin with Ford and James.
“Oh my gosh!” Jolie says. “Weren’t the views amazing?!”
Aiden doesn’t say a word about my freak-out as I head over to grab Ford. It’s nice having him here both because he’s a cute baby and because he’s a good distraction from the others.
We turn to head toward the top of the mountain. It’s more developed than I was expecting considering how high up we are. There’re a few overlooks where you can pose for photos. Skiers and snowboarders head off in one direction, toward the start of the slopes, and everyone else heads toward the main complex that houses a cluster of restaurants and shops.
Before we go inside, Jolie insists we all walk over to one of the lookouts so we can pose for a photo.
“Everyone smile!” she prompts, after handing her phone off to a kind tourist who volunteered to take the picture of us.