I shrug, look away. Pretend to be totally absorbed in the view, which is pretty spectacular if I’m being honest. And try not to think about all the times Z and Ash have done things so much better than I can ever dream of doing them.
Except Z’s not having it. He’s absolutely not having it, which I discover when he grabs the front of my jacket in both his hands and hauls me around to look at him.
“I’m sick of this shit!” he tells me, his voice loud and echoing through the mountains around us. “I’m sick to death of you thinking you’re not good enough or not talented enough or not hip enough to do whatever the fuck you want!”
“Not hip enough?” I raise a brow.
“Whatever. You know what the fuck I mean.” He doesn’t let go of my jacket. Instead he uses his grip to shake me a little, like he’s trying to shake some sense into me, or something. “You’ve spent the last six years trying to live up to completely unreal expectations for yourself. Expectations you’ve set, expectations your mother set. And it’s enough. It’s more than enough. You’re one of the best boarders in the fucking country—”
“That’s not true!” The words are torn from me. “You’re one of the best boarders in the country. In the world. Ash is. Cam is. You don’t need to bullshit me to make me feel better. You think I’m blind or something? I know exactly how talented—or not talented—I am.”
“Jesus. Are you fucking kidding me?” Ash is in on the action now. He’s standing next to Z, shaking his head and looking more disgusted than I’ve ever seen him. “You’re the one who just landed a 1620, bro. Not Z, not me.”
“It was a fluke—”
“It wasn’t a fluke! When are you going to get that through your fucking head?” Z demands. “I get that you’ve had it rough. I get that your mom has done a fucking number on you. But you’ve been boarding with us for years. You’ve been to the same invitationals, barged the same tournaments. When are you going to get that this whole I’m-not-good-enough attitude is just in your head? No one else has it.”
“Cam has it.” The words come out before I have a clue I’m going to say them.
Z and Ash share a look.
“She doesn’t,” Ash says after a minute.
I snort. “Way to sound convincing there, bro.”
“I shouldn’t have to convince you—it’s right there for you and the rest of the world to see.”
Rarely has Ash looked so serious.
“What? Her disdain? The fact that she wants nothing to do with me? The fact that she’s probably going to abort my baby because she has so little faith in me that she can’t stand the idea of me being the father to her kid? How about the fact that she won’t even talk to me about how she’s feeling or what she wants or even what’s going on in her life. I had to find out about the baby from Z, for fuck’s sake.”
“Maybe I jumped the gun there,” Z says. “Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut and let her tell you when she was ready.”
“Aren’t you listening to me? She never would have told me. She doesn’t talk to me. She doesn’t want anything to do with me—”
“Now you’re just be
ing a melodramatic asshole,” Ash tells me matter-of-factly. “The girl just needs some space. She’s messed up—this baby is fucking with all her plans—with her whole career. She can’t board while she’s pregnant. She’s worried about losing her endorsements and if she does how she’s going to support her kid—”
“She has to know I’ll take care of her. I’d never let anything happen to her or the baby—”
“She probably does know that deep down,” Z says. “But she wasn’t exactly thinking rationally the other night. Her whole world is going up in flames around her and she’s fucking scared. Who wouldn’t be? She worked her ass off for this season and now it’s all disappearing right in front of her. I guarantee it’d stress me out if something happened that fucked with everything I worked so hard for and that’s without the whole, holy-shit-there’s-a-baby-inside-me aspect to deal with.”
He’s finally relaxed his grip on my jacket, and I take advantage of that fact to slowly amble away—to look over the edge of the mountain and hide the fact that I’ve got fucking tears in my eyes.
“It doesn’t have to. Not if she has an abortion.”
I can’t believe how much I’ve fucked this up for her, can’t believe how much she must hate me. Just the thought nearly brings me to my knees. I love her so much and she won’t even look at me, won’t even talk to me. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to start blubbering like an idiot.
“Is that what you want her to do?” Ash asks.
I turn on him.
“Of course it’s not what I want her to do. What I want is for her to come back to me and have the baby and let me take care of the both of them. But how can I ask that of her—”
“How can you not ask it of her?” Z demands. “She’s your woman. She’s carrying your kid. She needs you to let her know that you’re going to be there for her no matter what happens or how bad things get.”
“I’ve tried to do that, but she won’t listen—”