Ski Lodge

4// Check-in

Sunday

The airplane touched down, and the parents all filed out in front of us. Becker handed me my bag from the overhead compartment as I crouched in front of my seat, stooping my head so it wouldn't hit the ceiling. I put my bag on my front so as not to smack an already sulking Laura with it, and we all shifted into the center aisle.

"Wait, I didn't get to see the ocean!" Laura exclaimed, "there was just white snow everywhere. I wanted the ocean!"

"I think snow is much cooler than the ocean," I tried to soothe her.

"Good one," Becker made the drum symbol noise on his lap.

"That wasn't meant to be a joke."

"Oh I get it! Because snow is cold!" Laura smiled.

"Exactly," Becker gave Laura a high five. She had to jump to reach him.

I laughed, and Becker turned to me.

"I guess your bad mood is gone."

"I wasn't in a bad mood," I said defensively. Becker shrugged.

We made our way down the aisle, Laura first, then me, then Becker. We were so close to each other that Becker kept stepping on my shoes and pushing me forward. I had to brace my arms against the seats next to me to not barrel into Laura.

Our parents were waiting for us in the runway leading to the airport. There, Laura ran to Weston, where they started talking about their trip, and I fell into line behind my mother. Becker still stood behind me.

"You're going to regret your warm weather clothes once we walk outside," he suddenly said, shifting next to me.

"There's a hoodie and pants in my bag. I'll change once we get to a bathroom."

"We won't have time, we have to get our luggage."

"Which will probably take awhile, therefore, I'll be able to change into my pants."

"Perhaps. Or maybe there won't be a bathroom, and then you'll just have to freeze."

"There is bound to be a bathroom. This is an airport." My teeth were clenched in aggravation at this point.

"If you say so," he shrugged.

There were half a dozen bathrooms around the luggage claim area, and I was able to quickly change into my pants and hoodie, freshen up, and wait for Laura to use the bathroom again all before our luggage even started to flow out of our claim lane.

Once we'd all gotten everything, we stepped out of the airport and into the freezing cold weather to find the shuttle that would bring us to the lodge. The driver smiled a toothy grin at us when we walked up to the shuttle, and he started grabbing our luggage and tossing it into every spare inch of the trunk and inside luggage holders. Inside, I went to sit next to Laura, but she held out her hands saying, "no! This seat is taken." A second later, Weston slid past me and into the seat.

"Hi, Trisha," Weston smiled warmly, "you sit back there." He pointed to the last empty seat which was beside Becker.

"Oh, you were rejected by a seven year old," Becker whistled as I slid into the seat next to him.

"I've been rejected by worse than that," I glared at him. I couldn't stop the words from escaping my lips, and I immediately regretted saying it. I didn't want him thinking I was still upset about that whole high school dance situation. But thankfully he just looked at me confused and turned back to his phone. I pulled out my book.

Twenty minutes into the trip he spoke the first words since our awkward silence. "No signal," he sighed.

"Probably because we are heading up a mountain," I responded.