Freestyle with Avery Page 9
“See, that’s what it’s like for me too,” I replied.
After that no one was mean anymore. The boys asked me about the Snurfer and being from Boston, and even though Jason didn’t say much he definitely looked more comfortable than he had back in the chairlift line.
The gondola pulled into the station and the boys jumped out first. “Nice to meet you, Avery. See you in school, Jason. Later, dudes!” they called and boarded away. Not so bad, I thought, once you talked to them for more than a minute.
“Hey … thanks,” I said to Jason as we strapped on our bindings.
He looked confused. “For what?”
“You know … telling those guys about my dad.”
He shrugged. “No prob. I … I know what it’s like. I mean, when you’re new you get used to people asking a lot of questions. It gets annoying after a while.”
“Totally.” Wow, and I thought it was awkward to answer questions when I had a mom and dad and brothers and everything … what about Jason? And Frankie? Suddenly I wasn’t so worried about Jason being able to make it down the mountain. He was definitely brave—no doubt about it!
“All right, you ready to go on your first real shredding run?”
Jason pulled his goggles over his eyes and gave me the thumbs-up.
We started out slowly, and I let Jason lead. That way if he fell I’d be able to board over and help him up. Jason didn’t fall though. That is, until we reached the halfway point. He toppled to a stop, laughing the whole time.
“This is totally awesome. No wonder everyone around here is obsessed with this sport!”
“Told you!” I replied. “Shredding’s the be—” Suddenly a wave of snow sprayed over me, and because I was talking, I got a royal mouthful. “Blech!” I spat and wiped my face.
When the ice fog settled I saw a girl in a magenta coat standing there with a huge smile on her face. Kazie. I should’ve known. “’Sup shredders?” she asked. “You ready to race, Jase? Hah! Race Jase. That rhymes!”
Jason’s face was red … this time almost as red as the snowboards that Kazie and I were riding on.
“I, uh, we’re still …” he stammered. Back to shy-Jason mode, I thought.
“Not yet, Kazie,” I said. “We’re chilling this morning.” I pushed up my goggles and looked at her straight in the eye. Actually, I had to look up at her. She seemed like a combination of Maeve and Katani in her snowboarding outfit. The pink, well, that was Maeve for sure. But the ribbons and little patches she had sewn on from all the places she’d been … that was Kgirl. Then there was the way she boarded. Like a pro. Kazie was pretty much good at everything … and she knew it, too. How intimidating!
She was smiling from ear to ear. “What are you … chicken? Bok, bok, bok.” Kazie made her arms into wings and did a little chicken dance on her board. She was talking to me now … not Jason. And Jason, beside me, was laughing a little bit. Did he think she was funny?
“Please. I’d race you any day. But no racing on the job,” I told her. “We’re in the middle of a lesson.” Period—the end. I wasn’t going to let Kazie spoil this.
“Whatever. Looking good, Jason. Nice moves.” Kazie gave him a thumbs-up, which made him smile. “Yo, Avery—see you on the pipe … if you dare.” And Kazie slipped off, flying over a jump as she sped away. As she did she tucked the tail of her board, grabbed with her left hand, and did a perfect 180-degree spin.
“She’s really good, isn’t she?” Jason said, staring after her. Uh-oh. Another member of the Crazie Kazie Fan Club? Then he said something that scared me even more. “Can we go to the Superpipe?”
“You … want to ride the … PIPE?” The Superpipe was going to be the run for the Snurfer! How could I tell Jason that he was sooo not ready for the pipe without hurting his feelings? “Don’t you think that this run might be a little better for you? Remember, it’s still your first day …”
“No way! I’m not going ride it. I kind of wanted to see you ride it … actually.”
“Oh.” Then I had a thought. “And Kazie, right?”
Jason shook his head and looked at the ground. “I mean, she’s good, but …”
I didn’t give him time to answer. “Fine. We’ll go.” I’d known Crazie Kazie for like two days and already I could tell that she had to be the center of attention. Well, if Jason wanted to watch her showoff-y tricks, fine. I didn’t wait to see if he was ready or not. I slid off—FAST.
“Hey, Avery, wait up!” Jason shouted after me.
I stopped and turned. Just as I did, a little boy on skis cut right in front of Jason. “Heeeeere I come!” the kid squealed. He was bent over with his little poles tucked right under his arms and going faster than a speeding bullet. This type of thing drove boarders crazy.
I jumped to the side and avoided him, but Jason wasn’t so lucky. When the kid cut him off it sent him totally out of control.
“Ahhhh!” he cried. He was slipping right toward me. “Avery, look out!”
One second I looked up and the next—BAM! My head hit the snow and I felt something heavy on top of my lower half. I was glad I was wearing a helmet! “Ouch …” I moaned and opened my eyes. “Jason?”
Jason awkwardly rolled off of my legs as fast as he could with his feet still strapped into the board. He looked totally embarrassed. “Oh, geesh. I’m sorry, Avery.” He shook his head and brushed the snow out of the cracks of his coat. “Aw, man … just when I thought I was getting the hang of this, I almost killed my teacher.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” I suddenly felt kind of weird lying on the ground so close to Jason. On top of that, I also felt guilty that I’d boarded away instead of waiting for him.
Jason kept apologizing as he brushed the snow out of his hair. He looked everywhere but at me. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You were blindsided. I blame the Knee Rocket.”
Jason scrunched his eyebrows and stopped brushing. “Knee Rocket?”
“Oh, yeah. Little kids who can’t stop skiing until they hit something. Bad news for boarders. But they’re sooo adorable,” I joked. We both laughed, and then suddenly Jason stopped.
“Hey, Avery … Kazie’s really good,” Jason began. Uh-oh. There it was—the annoyed feeling coming back. “And I was thinking,” he continued, “maybe you should be at the pipe practicing for the Snurfer without worrying about helping me. The Snurfer’s in two days, remember?”
“I’ll be fine.” But the truth was—I knew Jason was right. Kazie was good … and I was rusty. If I wanted to have any chance of placing at all in the competition, I should be practicing hardcore.
“That’s why I thought maybe we could go to the halfpipe,” Jason explained.
Wow. He was thinking of me after all—not Kazie. I opened my mouth to tell him that a promise was a promise when I felt another blast of snow hit my face.
“Okay, listen, I don’t know what your problem is—” I looked up. “DAD?”
“Whoa, Mr. M! You really got us!” Jason laughed.
There he was: the Snurfman himself—bright blue jester cap and all. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Thought I’d take the newest member of the ATS team out for a lunch on the slopes. On the company. I could really use a cheeseburger right now. What do you say, Jason?” Dad quickly looked at me and winked. I knew just what he was up to. He was giving me a chance to go practice.
“Really, Mr. M? That’d be great! I’m starved. What about you, Avery?”
“Not yet,” I said. “I think I’m going to try to squeeze in a few more runs before lunch, if that’s okay.”
“Fine by me,” Dad said. “As long as Jason’s okay with having a substitute teacher for a little bit.”
“Yeah! And Avery, this’ll give you a chance to hit the pipe after all.” Jason looked relieved.
“Good idea.” Dad winked at me again. “But first …” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a black case. “Picture time!”r />
I liked getting my picture taken. Most girls pretended to hate it, but come on. Who didn’t secretly love seeing a picture of themselves? “C’mon, Jason. Do what I’m doing. It’ll be funny!”
Jason shook his head. “No, thanks.”
Dad motioned for him to get in the picture, and Jason stood there stiffly.
“Smile, guys. This is Jason’s first time on the slopes, remember? Now get together and say ‘fleas!’”
“Fleas?” Jason whispered.
“Yeah … my dad thinks it’s funny,” I told him.
“One, two, three,” counted Dad.
“Fleas!”
CHAPTER
13
Hucker
Flying magenta coat was the first thing I saw when I got to the Superpipe. And there was the Flying Magenta Coat Fan Club—Tessa, Siobhan, and even the boys from the gondola—cheering every time Kazie went for a jump. And I had to admit, she really rocked it. This mountain ain’t big enough for the two of us! I wanted to tell her.
“Hey, Avery! You made it!” Kazie practically screamed up the mountain.
“Ahoy to you too,” I whispered under my breath.
I gave a little wave and waited for all the kids to go back to perfecting their own jumps. They didn’t. Seemed like everyone wanted to know if the Snurfman’s daughter was a decent boarder or not. I felt warm inside my coat. Really warm. It wasn’t the spring snowboarding type of warm … it was the kind of warm when the teacher asked you a question and you didn’t know the answer. Was I actually nervous? Yikes! This never happened to me on the slopes.
I stood at the top of the pipe and wondered what move I should do. If I tried to do a flip and looked bad, or worse yet, FELL, they’d think I was a total loser! Kazie’d probably laugh and then tell the story to Dad and Andie later, acting out the whole thing. Or worse, mention it in front of Jason. And knowing Kazie … she definitely would.
There was only one way to get through this and it wasn’t going to be pretty. I pulled down my goggles and tipped my board forward into the bowl. “There she goes!” one of the kids shouted.
In a heartbeat I felt that rush. I really wanted to fly off of the jump, do a backside 540 air and finish in a McTwist—one of my best tricks, but I couldn’t risk messing up. Thankfully, I had a plan. I hammered all the way to the jump, took off, and soared, getting amazing air. I was going to be the hucker of the century on purpose. I raised my arms and wiggled them in the air. “Cowabunga dude! I’m out of controoooool!” Then I scrunched my body into a ball to do a little roll, but instead I hit the ground with a SPLAT. Wow, that hurt. Now I really couldn’t breathe. When I finally stopped moving I was lying on my back.
Then I heard a noise. Laughing! Everyone was laughing—hard—but at least they were laughing with me … not at me. I jumped to my feet, took a deep breath, and bowed dramatically.
“Yeah, Avery! That was hilarious!” yelled the kids. They clapped, cheered, and whistled. Hah! My plan had worked perfectly. I could just see the headline: SNURFMAN’S DAUGHTER IS SNOWBOARDING COMEDY GENIUS!
Kazie sailed down the pipe on the opposite side, went straight up the wall and into the air, and slid back down without turning—a pop tart. Then she rocketed off the other side and let out a loud, “Yeee haaw!” In the air, she rotated 90 degrees, flipped over, and rotated ANOTHER 90 degrees, landing right on her feet. It was as perfect a crippler as I had ever seen, even in the Olympics. She finished her halfpipe show with a midair flip, turning 90 degrees and landing backward—a wet cat. I gulped. There was no question … Kazie was a totally hardcore snowboarder—probably a shoo-in for Snurfer Champion.
Kazie slid beside me and shook her hair out of her helmet. I knew what that look on her face meant: See, Avery, that’s how it’s done.
I also knew how important it was to always be an all-star good sport, even if it meant not being the all-star. “Wow, Kazie,” I said. “Nice crippler. That was dice.”
Kazie shrugged. “That? Piece of cake. You know, Avery,” Kazie said, flipping one of her famous ribbon braids over her shoulder. “The Snurfer might not be a sanctioned event—I mean, it’s only a benefit—but still, it’s not a clown competition. You actually have to try, Avery. And if you’re not going to take it seriously, maybe you shouldn’t bother entering. Or, you know, take some lessons for the rest of the day.”
“Look, I was just having fun,” I started to explain, but before I could get another word out, Siobhan called, “Hey, guys, there’s live music at the Air Garden Yurt! Let’s go!”
“Sweeeeet!” Kazie answered. She did an ollie and looked back at me with a really proud smile on her face. I didn’t like it one bit.
“You coming, Avery?” asked Tessa. At least the rest of the kids thought I was funny. I wouldn’t mind checking out the Air Garden Yurt, which was a big tent where a lot of the most rockin’ bands played in Telluride. In fact, it would probably be really funny to get a picture of the tent to bring back to Henry Yurt. Henry, aka “the Yurtmeister,” was class president back home in Boston and a total goofball. He’d probably love to see his name immortalized in a Telluride landmark … but today I had work to do. “Nah, go ahead. I’ll see you guys later.”
“See ya!” Kazie called and rode off immediately without looking back.
I grumbled and fumed walking back up to the top of the pipe. Nothing would give me more satisfaction than beating Kazie in the Snurfer. Of course, now I knew that was impossible … but hey … a girl could dream, right?
I closed my eyes and tried to visualize the jump—like my brothers told me to do when I was first learning how to board. I breathed in, zipped down the pipe, and sailed up the other side. With a whoosh, I was airborne. “It’s a bird, it’s a plane …” I shouted out loud and reached to grab the front of my board. “It’s Snurf—OUCH!” I plummeted … and this time it wasn’t on purpose … at all. What was going on?
Now I was more determined than ever to get it right. I set my sights on another jump and went at it, full steam ahead. “Ready, aim, BLAST OFF!” I shouted and flew like a speeding bullet. I was getting primo-air and ready to try an alley-oop. But just when I was mid-twist, I felt myself losing it. I started rolling down the windows—flailing my arms to save the jump, but it was pointless. This fall was even worse, and I faceplanted in the snow. Garage sale. Again.
Just then I heard the scrape-scrape sound of a board stopping behind me. “You’re getting some super-sweet air, Snurfette,” said a familiar voice. “Want a few tips?”
I turned and looked at the dude standing there in a red jacket and bright yellow hat. “DK!”
He put one finger over his mouth and looked from side to side. “Shh … I’m incognito!”
I nodded. Boy, was I embarrassed! The Egg had totally seen my very un-graceful fall. “Been here long?” I asked in a shaky voice.
Donnie Keeler smiled. “Long enough to see that you know what you’re doing out here. And long enough to see that you probably just lost your confidence for some reason. But my guess is it’ll only take a few gnarly jumps to get it all back.”
I felt a wave of relief pass over me. “Really?” I asked. “You think I just lost my confidence?”
DK nodded. “Totally. Your form is right-on. But when you’re mid-air, it’s like something in here”—DK patted his head with his glove—“stops you from doing what’s in here.” He made a fist and tapped his coat above his heart. “So what’s the deal?”
One word flashed in my head … and it began with a big fat K.
“I think your noggin needs to take a chill pill,” DK told me. I knew he was right. I had a gazillion thoughts in my head when I was flying through the air. I wasn’t tearing it up the way I was yesterday … before the Crazie Kazie dinner, and Jason, and the Snurfer worries and everything else. Too much stuff was clogging my brain!
DK nodded. “Okay, Snurfette, so clear your head. Instead of focusing on the jump, think of something funny. Like what about the waffle mountain? That thi
ng was insane!”
It was big, sure. But funny? Well, not as funny as Marty and Crud putting on a show for everyone outside the diner. Wait a minute.
“I got it!” I exclaimed.
DK gave me a thumbs-up. “Radical! Don’t tell me … just jump.”
I nodded and pulled my goggles snugly over my eyes. The snow blasted from the snowmakers around me, stinging my face with icy flakes. But at that moment, it was just what I needed—a frosty wake-up call, as cold and refreshing as a fruit smoothie. I popped from side-stance to front like a slinky and started weaving toward the giant wall of the pipe.
“Get ’er done, Snurfette!” DK cheered. “You should try an eggplant.”
Eggplant. I thought of last night’s delicious lasagna and pumped my fist into the air. I’d never tried an eggplant before, but I’d seen them done plenty of times. I knew I had the skill to do it … I just needed to take a chance. I slid my hand over the little lump in my pocket, and instantly recharged, knowing the BSG charm key ring was safe inside. Then I cleared my mind like DK said and filled it with something funny. That was where the idea came in handy. I pictured Marty on a snowboard cruising down the slopes with his tiny paws out and ears flying. Of course, he wore tiny goggles and a tiny jester hat like Dad’s with a big pom-pom, along with his blue Snurfer sweater. With this image of Snowboard Marty locked in my head, I went for it.
“You got it, Avery!” DK’s voice was a faint echo behind me. I was gathering speed as I slid down again and jumped into a perfect backside air.
I rode down to where Donnie was waiting and high-fived him as I slid past. He whistled. “That was star quality, Snurfette. For real!” I couldn’t believe it—a real, live Olympic boarder was complimenting my skills.
“Okay, now try a frontside handplant,” Donnie directed.
“You got it!” I went for it, not hesitating for a second. Wouldn’t you know, my frontside handplant was perfect too! DK hollered and whooped. I was flying now and I refused to stop. I shot into the air, snapped my heel edge up, and grabbed it with my front hand—a melon. Then I did a sweet indy, clutching the toe edge with my back hand. I swished up and down the walls, nailing roast beefs, stalefishes, mutes, and methods, executing every trick almost as shred-tastically as Kazie.