True L̶o̶v̶e̶ Story by Willow Aster

to go. He puts his hand between my shoulder blades and leans his head over to mine, giving me a sideways hug of sorts.
    When he pulls back, his eyes are luminous. “Hi,” he says again.
    Mercy sakes. He just … does it for me. Whatever it is, he does it.
    “Hi,” I whisper.
    He leaves his hand on my back, leading the way toward my condo, even though I couldn’t begin to tell you where we’re going. He keeps watching me, smiling and assessing me with those eyes. I can’t think of a thing to say, and I don’t want to spoil the moment with trivial thoughts or accusing questions.
    All too soon, we’re at my door. He takes both my hands and clutches them firmly in his. “When you’re done with your lesson in the morning, will you ski with me?”
    “Oh—” a nervous laugh escapes, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. In fact, I’m sure it’s NOT. I don’t really expect to take to it.” I scrunch my face up and shake my head.
    He laughs back at me, his even, white teeth shining like a perfect toothpaste commercial. “You’ll be great. And if you’re not, I can help you.”
    “Right. Because you’re an excellent skier, aren’t you?”
    “How did you know?” He teases, as his thumb softly outlines my thumb and the palm of my hand. I shiver. “Are you chilly?” he asks.
    “No,” I sigh, feeling more than a little foolish. “You should really go ahead and do your thing—I don’t want to hold you back and I’m sure I won’t have it down after one lesson.”
    “Stop that. It’ll be fun. What time are you done? Noon? Later?
    “I think just before noon.”
    “Great. How about we meet around one. Come warm up for a while after your lesson, rest, eat, and then be ready to do the real thing.”
    I reluctantly agree.
    “You must be tired. It’s, what—two hours later to you?”
    I nod and unlock the door, smiling shyly at Ian.
    “Sparrow…”
    I go completely still and wait for him to speak.
    “You’re a vision,” he almost sounds bashful as he says it.
    I start to say something, but draw a blank. My face warms up and my cheeks hurt from smiling. I open the door and go inside. The last thing I see before I shut the door are his light bulb eyes shining at me, as his hand briefly touches his cushiony lips. I know who I will be dreaming of tonight.
    The time change works to my benefit the next morning, when I’m awake bright and early. The view is so spectacular in the morning light, I actually gasp when I step outside. The mountain peaks don’t even look real.
    I have a serious case of the jelly stomach as we pick up our skis and shuffle across the snow in the awkward snow boots. I haven’t been this nervous in … I don’t remember when. Our small class gathers at the bottom of the bunny hill. There are only seven of us, including Lars, the instructor. He looks like a surfer dude who is slightly out of place, but he surprises me. In no time at all, he has us doing things I never thought possible. I master the wedge; let me tell you, I have worked out how to stop. As a last case scenario, Lars shows us the best way to fall if we can’t stop.
    We do wide laps across the bottom of the hill for a long time and before I know it, I’m ready for more. Can you believe I don’t even fall once? In fact, the scariest part of the entire lesson is when we graduate to the ski lift. Now, that could wreck the entire experience for me right there. I nearly panic when I come this close to missing the seat, but it carries me off just in time. I catch my breath as I try not to think about how high it’s going … with nothing holding me in.
    My dad yells out in the seat behind me, “You all right, Rosie?”
    I don’t dare turn around, but yell back, “Yes!” my voice approximately two octaves higher than normal.
    Lars is in front of me, and I study closely how he gets off the lift. When it’s my turn, I copy his moves to a T. Whew. That was intense. And then I turn around and see what I have to go