Page 17 of Things I Read About

That’s been the answer to that question many times in my life. I am not normal. But, normal is highly overrated.

“Logistics, risk assessment, security.”

Security?

“Former military?” I squeak.

He looks down at me and nods once. His eyes drop down to my mouth. I’m positive he looked at my mouth!Butterflies. All of them, all systems. Nerve explosion.

He looks away.

“D-do you have any questions for me?”

He makes that chuckle sound again. “The list is growing by the second.”

“Ask away,” I say.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to do some skiing first.” He lifts his chin ahead of us. We’re about to reach the top. I realize up in the trees that it’s almost dark now. I take my sunglasses off and grab for my goggles. Then, I remember my goggles are tinted even more than my glasses.

Both are prescription.

Oh no.

Oh nonononono.

How could I not think of this? I never wear contacts on the mountain because of the crazy winds. I take a breath as we jump off the lift and head to the side by the trail map. I can see right in front of me. Mostly. I’ll be fine, I can see the tips of my skis, blobs on the horizon. I just need to look for contrast against the snow. Except, it’s so freaking dark out here. Even with the lights.

“How about the left side?” Nate asks.

I look at the map. I think the left side is mostly blue. Blue is fine. I’m fine. This is fine.

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to sound panicked.

“You can lead. This first time I won’t be too hard on you.”

I can hear it. Samantha’s flirty voice in my head. I bite my lip, unsure. But then he looks at where my teeth hold my lip hostage and that’s it. Ihave to say it.

“What if I want you to be hard on me?”

He looks away and says something under his breath. A grin takes over his face, as if he’s trying to scowl but can’t. He looks at me again. “Whoareyou?”

I shrug. “I’m Sally.” Then, because it’s what my sister would do, I shove off. Samantha would fly away like the easy, breezy, cover girl she is.Covergirl make-up ad campaign, 1997.She’d look back over her shoulder seductively.

But I can’t really see.

So I just hope he’s following behind me.

And I ski.

And I really, truly cannot see.

Oh God, please don’t let me die in front of Nate, just because I forgot my contacts!

I feel his presence beside me, big and watchful. He’s observing me. And I’m crawling along like a snail. He’s going to think I don’t know how to ski. I cut harder and steeper.

All right, this is fine.

I mean the snow is white.Stick to the white.