Cold Sweetness

❆ chapter one

Her phone had taunted her. All she had to do was find her sister's contact and admit that she had overestimated her own abilities: the impromptu trip pushed her too far, and she had no choice but to give up. Her parents would greet her with tight smiles, and Nevada would see once again that she had disappointed them. They would arrange another meeting with her therapist before brushing the whole thing beneath the rug. It was only another failure to add to her never-ending list.

Nevada couldn't do it. While it had pained her, she had brushed her teeth and slipped on warm layers to prevent the chilled air from seeping into her skin. She had gathered her hair into a knit cap, sent a quick text message to her parents, and dragged her duffel that had been prepared a full week in advance towards the lot. But as she faced the bus that would take her to a remote ski lodge for the next week and a half, a large part of her wished that she had given in to the voices in her head.

Her heels dragged against the concrete as she began to turn on the spot – until Ms. Simmons glanced up from her clipboard and made direct eye contact with her. Her chest stuttered. No turning back, she thought, steeling herself as she strode over the sidewalk to where the bus stood idle.

The two boys still hovered around Ms. Simmons as she neared. The shorter of the two was around her height, his warm brown skin and angled eyes indicating that he was of Filipino descent, his mouth moving swiftly as he explained the reason for their tardiness. The other was his polar opposite, towering over the rest of them. He had to be at least six feet tall – if not more – but Nevada didn't get the chance to glimpse his face before Ms. Simmons let out an aggravated huff.

"You two are already causing me trouble, and we haven't even left yet." She waved them forward. "Just get on."

After the two were herded on, Ms. Simmons redirected her attention towards Nevada. She felt herself wither beneath her stare before she murmured, "Hello, Ms. Simmons."

Her attitude had done a complete one-eighty: with a flash of a pearly white smile, Ms. Simmons leaned closer as her eyes scanned over the checklist stuck on her clipboard listing all of the students' names. "Name, please?"

"Nevada Ruiz."

When she honed in on Nevada's name, she added a checkmark beside it, marking her off as the last person to arrive. That meant everyone's stares would fall on her as soon as she stepped aboard. The thought sent a trickle of unease down her spine, but there wasn't a chance to dwell on it before Ms. Simmons herded her forward.

"Hello, Nevada," she said, her voice chipper. "What a lovely name. Feel free to call me Helen."

Nevada gave her a slow nod, her lip quirking upward before she turned to face the beady eyes of the students who had been waiting for the bus to move. Averting her gaze, her chest seized as her grip tightened on her duffel. Her breathing grew heavy as she bent to heave her luggage onto the overhead compartment. Her muscles strained – and the realization that she couldn't lift it by herself slammed into her.

Her face began to crumble – until another hand grasped onto the handle of her duffel. The boy from before raised it over their heads with ease, heaving it onto the rack with the other luggage. He flashed her an easy smile, the dimples poking out on either cheek. Her insides felt as though they were melting. He had dimples. She had a soft spot for dimples.

Nevada had caught the glimpse of his profile that she had previously missed. Light blonde hair streaked with gel stood straight on his head, his blue eyes meeting hers as he tilted his head down to make eye contact with her. Stringy and lanky, he had the build of a swimmer, towering over her with no effort at all.

Her mouth opened to stutter a thank you, but before she could force out the words, Helen rested her hand on her shoulder, urging her to take a seat. The only one that remained was at the front in the same row as the two boys; the other had already taken refuge at the window, his headphones dangling as he scrolled through his phone. The boy that had helped her plopped down beside his friend, his long legs barely fitting in the confined space between the seat in front. There was an aisle separating them, but even that felt like too short a distance to avoid an awkward conversation.