Page 17 of First Echo

MADELINE

Which meant Brooke had left even earlier. Who does that? Who voluntarily gets up at the crack of dawn on a ski trip?

I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face, an inexplicable annoyance settling over me. It felt rude somehow, her disappearing without a word. Though honestly, after our argument last night, I couldn't exactly blame her for not wanting to be around me.

Still, she could have at least let me know where she was going. Not that I cared, obviously. It was just weird to wake up to an empty room.

I took my time getting ready, enjoying the rare luxury of having the bathroom all to myself.

I spent extra time on my makeup, carefully applying it to make it look effortless.

Like I just naturally woke up with perfectly flushed cheeks and subtly defined eyes.

I chose my ski outfit with similar precision—a pale blue jacket with white fur trim that made my eyes pop, matching pants that fit perfectly.

If I was going to hit the slopes, I was going to look good doing it.

The dining hall was bustling when I arrived, filled with the eager chatter of students excited for a day on the mountain. I scanned the room automatically, looking for Brooke, but she wasn't there either. Where had she disappeared to so early?

Victoria waved me over to the table where she sat with the usual crowd. She'd apparently forgiven me for the roommate betrayal, or at least decided to temporarily overlook it.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Julian teased as I slid into the seat beside Sam. "Thought you might sleep through the entire trip."

"It's barely eight," I replied, rolling my eyes. "And I'm here before any of you hit the slopes, so I'd say I'm doing pretty well."

Sam leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. "You look amazing," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," I said automatically, though that wasn't entirely true.

I'd lain awake for a while after our argument, replaying Brooke's words in my head, wondering if her mother really had died.

I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I'd crossed a line, mocking something that was genuinely important to her.

But that was too complicated to get into with Sam, especially with everyone else listening, so I just smiled and changed the subject. "What's our plan for today?"

"The usual runs first," Sam said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Then maybe try that double black Julian's been talking about."

Julian nodded enthusiastically. "It's supposed to be insane. Thirty-five-degree pitch, narrow as hell, trees everywhere."

"Sounds like a death wish," Victoria commented, picking at her fruit salad. "Count me out."

"Same," Audrey agreed. "I'm thinking we stick to the blues. I didn't bring these cute new ski pants just to wipe out and spend the day covered in snow."

The conversation devolved into a friendly argument about which runs to tackle first, with everyone talking over each other, gesturing with toast and coffee cups. I found myself only half listening, my thoughts drifting back to Brooke and her unexplained absence.

"How's the roommate situation?" Sam asked quietly, as if reading my mind. "You and Brooke getting along any better?"

I shrugged, trying to appear casual. "It's fine. We're basically ignoring each other, which works for me."

"Except she ditched you this morning," Julian cut in, clearly eavesdropping. "Rude much?"

"It's not like we coordinated schedules," I said, feeling an odd impulse to defend Brooke, which made absolutely no sense. "She can do whatever she wants."

Julian raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you so chill about people blowing you off?"

"She didn't blow me off, Julian. We're not friends. We're just sharing a room."

Sam placed his hand over mine on the table, a small gesture of support that would normally have made me feel better. Today, though, it just reminded me of the weird, unsettled feeling that had taken root in my chest since last night's argument with Brooke.

"Well, I think it's weird," Victoria declared, apparently having been listening in as well. "Who gets up before seven on a school trip? That girl is just strange."

I didn't respond, but I silently disagreed.

There was something almost admirable about Brooke's dedication, her willingness to wake up early to get what she wanted.

She didn't seem to care what anyone thought of her, didn't adjust her behavior to fit in or be liked. I'd never had that kind of freedom.

After breakfast, we all headed back to our rooms to grab our gear before meeting at the lifts.

The resort was coming alive now, with more and more people heading out to enjoy the perfect conditions.

The sky was a brilliant blue, the kind that seems to exist only in the mountains, and the air was crisp but not bitterly cold. A perfect day for skiing.

As we approached the lift area, I noticed a small crowd gathered at the edge of the main run, all looking up at the mountain. Curious, I followed their gaze.

A lone figure was carving down the slope, a snowboarder moving with such fluid grace that it almost looked like dancing.

Even from this distance, I could tell they were good—really good.

They navigated the terrain with a confidence that seemed to come from years of practice, each turn precise, each movement deliberate yet effortless.

"Who is that?" Sam asked, shielding his eyes from the sun to get a better look.

"No idea," Julian replied, sounding genuinely impressed. "But they're killing it."

The snowboarder was getting closer now, picking up speed as they approached the final stretch. There was something familiar about the way they moved, something that tugged at my memory. And then, as they neared the bottom of the run, I recognized her.

Brooke.

Of course it was Brooke. Little Miss Perfect, excelling at yet another thing I didn't know she could do.

A strange mix of emotions washed over me—surprise, admiration, and something else, something sharper and less flattering.

Was it jealousy? The idea was so absurd I almost laughed out loud.

Me, jealous of Brooke Winters? Impossible.

And yet, watching her carve her way down that mountain, completely in her element, I couldn't deny the twinge of something unpleasant in my stomach.

It wasn't that I wanted to be her—I would never want that.

But there was something about the way everyone was watching her, admiring her, that made me feel.

.. invisible. And I wasn't used to being invisible.

"Wait, is that your roommate?" Victoria asked, her voice pitching higher with surprise. "Since when is she a snowboarding prodigy?"

"I had no idea," I murmured, watching as Brooke came to a graceful stop near the lift line, unclipping one foot from her board with practiced ease. She didn't look in our direction, but somehow I got the feeling she knew we were watching.

"Well, damn," Julian said, letting out a low whistle. "Quiet girl's got skills. Who would've thought?"

"It's not that impressive," I heard myself saying, though even I didn't believe it. "Snowboarding's not that hard."

Sam glanced at me, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "Says the girl who's never set foot on a snowboard."

"How hard can it be?" I challenged, a plan already forming in my mind. "If she can do it, I definitely can."

The words were out before I'd fully thought them through, but once they were hanging in the air, I couldn't take them back. And I didn't want to. Suddenly, nothing seemed more important than proving I could do whatever Brooke could do—and do it better.

"Mads, I don't think that's a good idea," Sam said, his brow furrowing with concern. "Snowboarding has a pretty steep learning curve. It takes time to get the hang of it."

"I'm a quick learner," I insisted, already scanning the rental shop for where I could swap my skis for a snowboard. "Besides, don't you think it'll be fun to try something new?"

Sam looked skeptical but didn't argue further. That was one of the things I appreciated about him—he never tried to control me, even when he thought I was making a mistake. Julian, on the other hand, had no such reservations.

"This is going to be hilarious," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ten bucks says you face-plant within the first five minutes."

"Twenty says I don't," I shot back, even as a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispered that he was probably right.

Thirty minutes later, we were on the lift heading up the mountain.

I sat beside Sam, my newly rented snowboard dangling from one foot, feeling much heavier than I'd expected.

The guy at the rental shop had given me a crash course in the basics—how to strap in, how to position my feet, how to shift my weight to turn. It had seemed simple enough in theory.

But as the lift carried us higher and higher, my confidence began to waver. The mountain looked bigger from this angle, steeper, more intimidating. What had seemed like a brilliant idea at the base now felt like a spectacular mistake in the making.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Sam said quietly, as if sensing my growing apprehension. "We could stick to skiing today, maybe try snowboarding another time when you've had a lesson."

His concern irritated me, though I knew it was rooted in care. "I want to try," I insisted, my voice sharper than intended. "Stop worrying so much."

He fell silent, and I immediately felt guilty for snapping at him. It wasn't his fault I'd gotten myself into this situation. But I couldn't back down now, not with Julian's smug face watching, not with the memory of Brooke's effortless skill still fresh in my mind.