Page 30 of First Echo

MADELINE

I fled.

There was no other word for it. I grabbed my phone, mumbled something about leaving, and escaped our room like it was on fire. The door clicked shut behind me, and I stood in the hallway, my heart hammering against my ribs as if trying to break free.

What had just happened in there?

The image of Brooke was seared into my mind—standing there in just her sweatpants and bra, her back turned to me at first, then the slow turn that revealed the lean muscles of her abdomen, the defined shoulders, the unexpected size of her arms. I hadn't been prepared for that. For any of it.

"Are you staring at me?"

Her voice echoed in my head, playful and confident. So different from the guarded, sarcastic Brooke I was used to. And I had stared—I couldn't deny it, though I'd tried. Something about seeing her like that had short-circuited my brain, left me speechless in a way I'd never experienced before.

I moved down the hallway without any clear destination, just needing to put distance between myself and whatever had just transpired in that room. The resort's plush carpet muffled my footsteps as I wandered, my thoughts in complete disarray.

"It's not like I like her," I whispered to myself, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears. "I don't. I can't."

I couldn't like Brooke Winters. That made no sense. First of all, she's a girl. I like boys—I've always liked boys. I have a boyfriend, for god's sake. Girls don't look at other girls the way I looked at Brooke tonight. They just don’t.

And beyond that, she was... she was Brooke. Quiet, sarcastic, judgmental Brooke who read too much and spent too much time alone and looked at me like she could see straight through all my carefully constructed walls.

Brooke who had punched my brother.

Brooke who had taught me to snowboard with surprising patience.

Brooke who had shown me who she really was tonight at that bar—thoughtful, funny, surprisingly wise.

Brooke whose smile, when it was genuine, made something flutter inside my chest that I didn't have a name for.

"Stop," I hissed at myself, coming to a halt in the middle of an empty corridor. "Just stop."

I ran a shaky hand through my hair, trying to ground myself.

This was ridiculous. I had a boyfriend—Sam, sweet, dependable Sam who everyone adored.

I had friends, popularity, a clearly defined place in the world.

I couldn't throw all that into chaos just because seeing Brooke half-dressed had made my pulse race and my mouth go dry.

It was nothing. Just surprise, that's all. I hadn't expected her to look like... that. Hidden beneath her usual baggy clothes and standoffish demeanor was a body that spoke of discipline, strength, hidden capabilities. It was natural to be startled by the revelation, natural to feel... something.

But not this. Not this confusing storm that had my thoughts spinning and my heart racing like I'd run a marathon.

I needed fresh air. That was it. Too much time in this stuffy resort, too many beers at the bar earlier. Clear my head, and everything would make sense again.

I made my way to a side exit, pushing through the door into the crisp night air. The cold hit me immediately, biting through my thin sweater, but I welcomed it. The sharp sting of winter against my skin was clarifying, pulling me back to reality.

The resort's exterior lights illuminated the snow-covered grounds, casting long shadows across the pristine white. I wrapped my arms around myself, watching my breath form clouds in the frigid air as I walked aimlessly along a shoveled path.

Brooke's smirk flashed in my mind again—that knowing look when she'd caught me staring, the confidence in her voice when she'd said, " Listen, I'm not judging you . I’d stare at me too."

A fresh wave of heat washed over me despite the cold, remembering how close we'd stood in that moment, barely a breath apart.

How I could smell the faint scent of her shampoo, something clean and subtle, nothing like the expensive perfumes my friends and I wore.

How her eyes had held mine, dark and questioning, as if trying to read the confusion written across my face.

Why couldn't I stop thinking about it? Why couldn't I—

"Madeline?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of my name. Turning, I found Victoria standing a few feet away, a puzzled expression on her face. Sophie and Audrey were just behind her, all three bundled in their designer ski jackets.

"What are you doing out here without a coat?" Victoria asked, looking me up and down with obvious concern. "You'll freeze to death."

I forced a casual smile, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. "Just needed some air. What are you guys doing?"

"Heading back from the bar," Sophie explained, her dark hair dusted with snowflakes. "They had this amazing hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps." She grinned mischievously. "The schnapps part wasn't exactly on the menu, but Julian convinced the bartender."

At the mention of my brother, I stiffened slightly. "Julian's with you?"

"He was," Audrey replied, adjusting her pink beanie. "He and Sam went back to their room like ten minutes ago. Julian's jaw was bothering him."

"His jaw?" I repeated, then remembered with a jolt—Brooke had punched him. In my emotional whirlwind, I'd almost forgotten the incident that had started this strange evening.

Victoria rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yeah, your psycho roommate really got him good. He's going to have a nasty bruise."

"She's not psycho," I said automatically, the words out before I could stop them.

Three pairs of eyes fixed on me with varying degrees of surprise.

"She punched your brother in the face," Victoria said slowly, as if I might have forgotten this crucial detail. "Unprovoked."

"It wasn't unprovoked," I countered, feeling a strange defensiveness rise inside me. "Julian was being... Julian. You know how he gets."

"Still," Audrey chimed in, "who just hauls off and hits someone like that? She must have some serious anger issues."

"Or she's just a badass," Sophie said with a small laugh.

"I mean, I'm not saying it's right to hit people, but you have to admit it took guts.

Julian's like twice her size, and she didn't even hesitate.

" She looked at me with undisguised curiosity.

"What's she like as a roommate? Is she always that intense? "

I thought about Brooke—quiet Brooke reading her book by the window, determined Brooke carving down the mountain, vulnerable Brooke talking about her mother, confident Brooke standing half-dressed in our room.

"She's... complicated," I said finally.

Victoria linked her arm through mine, the warmth of her jacket a welcome barrier against the cold. "Well, come inside before you turn into an icicle. You can tell us all about your complicated roommate situation somewhere we're not freezing to death."

I let them lead me back into the resort, grateful for the distraction from my churning thoughts.

We made our way to the lounge area near the main fireplace, which was nearly deserted at this late hour.

Just a few guests lingering over nightcaps, soft music playing in the background, the fire crackling in the massive stone hearth.

We settled into a cluster of plush armchairs, the heat from the fire slowly seeping into my chilled limbs.

My friends fell into easy conversation, dissecting the day's events, who said what to whom, who was seen with who.

The normal rhythms of our friendship, the backdrop to my life for as long as I could remember.

"Julian was so embarrassed," Audrey was saying, barely containing her amusement. "A girl half his size, decking him in front of everyone! Did you see his face?"

"To be fair, she caught him completely off guard," Victoria added.

My mind flashed again to Brooke's toned physique, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks. I hoped they'd attribute it to the fire.

"Why did she hit him anyway?" Sophie asked, turning to me. "Do you know?"

I hesitated. The truth was complicated—Brooke had hit Julian because he'd mocked her dead mother, because he'd been cruel in a way that crossed every line.

But saying that would mean explaining about Brooke's mother, about my growing understanding of Brooke's isolation, about things that felt private somehow, sacred even.

Things shared between us in moments of rare honesty.

"Julian said something he shouldn't have," I said finally, keeping it vague. "He deserved it, trust me."

The conversation moved on, but my thoughts remained tangled, a knot I couldn't unravel. I kept seeing Brooke's face when I'd walked back into our room—the surprise, then that flash of confidence, challenging me with those dark eyes that seemed to see too much.

"Okay, earth to Madeline," Victoria said, waving a hand in front of my face. "You've been weird all night. What's going on with you?"

I blinked, pulled back to the present moment. All three were staring at me with varying degrees of concern and curiosity. I opened my mouth to brush it off, but what came out instead surprised even me.

"Okay, just wondering. If you were... I don't know, confused about your feelings for someone, like, someone you didn't expect to ever feel anything for—what would that mean?"

The words hung in the air for a moment, before Victoria's eyes widened with delight. "Wait. Oh my god—are you into another guy?"

I froze, caught in the trap of my own making. Another guy. Of course that's where their minds would go. Where else would they go?

I paused, my heart hammering in my throat. Then I forced a little smirk and said, "Sure. Something like that."