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My dad must have believed I'd never get caught, otherwise he wouldn't have suggested I do it. The blind devotion I put in his paternal leadership meant I valued his judgment above all others. 

This had the benefit of allowing me to let go of my worry. It gave me the freedom to focus on transforming into a ski racer. I bent down and pretended to adjust my boot buckles. 

My dad whistled I looked up to see him coming out of the tree's, along the second ridge. I turned my skis and entered the empty closed off ski run. I looked over both shoulders, but nobody else was on the hill now. It was just me. 

The memory of Joey starting, hard and fast, replayed in my memory when I got to the starting gate. The snow was packed harder, and was icier than I expected. I slid forward and looked over to see my dad with his hand on his wrist. The tips of my skis dangled off the edge into the air much higher than I expected.

"Ski club members only." A man shouted at me from above. 

"Go for it Nick." My dad yell from the side of the hill.  

"Exit the run now!" The same voice yelled.

"Ahhhhhhh!" I shouted at them both as I pushed through the starting gate, "Let's go skiing!"

Frost - #JustWriteIt #SportsWhere stories live. Discover now