"I hate this," I grumbled glaring at Fang.

He just rolled his eyes. "You can't be perfect at everything, Max. Besides, you've only been at it for a few hours. I've been skiing my whole life. It takes time."

I scowled at him. I wasn't stupid; I knew I wasn't going to be a world-class skier by lunchtime on my first day on the hill, but I was cold, and my feet and ankles were all smashed together in the heavy ski boots. "I'm bored."

He raised an eyebrow, "You're not thoroughly enjoying this morning on the magic carpet?"

"Real amusing, Fang."

He chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. "Do you want to try a green?"

"Green?"

"It means the easiest type of run. There are easy greens which are circles, intermediate blues are squares, blacks are difficult and diamonds and double black diamonds are considered experts only. We have some double blues here too which are between intermediate and difficult."

"It beats this," I said gesturing towards the white expanse we had been practicing on. There was the world's slightest decline, and I was the only person taller than 3 feet that wasn't an instructor. To say I was humiliated was an understatement.

"Are you ready for the chairlift this time?" He asked me, the gold specks in his eyes danced in the Sun.

"If it gets you to shut up about it, then yeah." Fang and Iggy had been taunting me about riding the chairlift ever since Ella had told them that chairlifts were not my favorite thing in the world. When my dad took us skiing as kids, he had gotten us on the chairlift to go up to the top of the mountain, but I had refused to get off, so I just kept going back down the mountain. They don't exactly allow that, so I got yelled at by about six different people, but at least I was safe on the ground.

Fang chuckled under his breath some more as we made it to the chairlift line that would take us up to some real runs.

"Okay," Fang said his voice soft and no longer sarcastic. "We're going to shuffle up right after this chair swings around. Just turn behind you and you can watch the chair come, and just sit down right as it hits your knees. Easy."

I nodded. If all these tiny little kids could do it, so could I.

"Yo Fang, what's happening?" A broad-shouldered, blonde-haired guy with dark eyes fist bumped Fang as we followed the chair that had just swung around. "Who's the chick? Your latest girlfriend?"

Fang rolled his eyes. "This is Max. We're just friends. Honest."

His friend looked skeptical, "You better watch out Fang, or someone's gonna swoop in and snatch her up before you can."

Fang opened his mouth to retort, but we were already on the chair heading rapidly up the mountain. "Hey," he said turning to me. "You made it."

I smirked. "Who was that?"

"An old family friend. His name's Jared. We grew up together. We even ski raced together a while back." He looked at me and most likely read the dark expression on my face, and he cut me off before I even opened my mouth. "He's a good guy. Some of the stuff he says can be a little off, but he's a good guy."

"Someone going to 'snatch me up'?" I asked hotly.

"He doesn't mean it that way. If anything, he probably just thinks I need to have a girlfriend or something stupid. He's one of those guys that always has a girlfriend. He bounces between girls constantly, and well, that's just not for me."

I nodded. At least Fang was a good guy and understood that people weren't prizes to be won. The tree branches blew in the wind and I burrowed under my face mask as the wind whipped through the air. The chairlift slowed to a stop, and I jolted up from watching people gracefully ski down the mountain as if they would turn just by thinking about it. "What's happening?"

"We're stopped. Someone probably fell off," he muttered matter-of-factly, staring at the flurries that began to fall from the sky.

"Fell off?" I asked. I could even hear the panicked note in my voice.

"Not fell off, but just had trouble getting on or off. Usually little kids or something. It happens a lot on these lifts because they're meant for beginners."

I nodded, quickly relieved. If people fell off chairlifts, skiing would most definitely not be something I would continue. I have enough anxiety by myself, no need for any near-death experiences. "They should learn from the pros then," I said with a grin.

"Alright hotshot, let's see how you do when you get off," Fang said. His gaze now followed a bird that soared across the grey ski clearly unfazed by the winds and snow. "Max, can I ask you something?"

I nodded, "What's up?" We had completely come to a stop now, and the chairlift slowly swung back and forth with the gusts of winds.

"I was talking to," he paused, "someone." Gee thanks, Fang, that's not vague at all. "And, well they told me about that night at the club when we were there with your sister and Iggy." I froze. He finally shifted his gaze to look at me, and his face was impassive, but his dark eyes were penetrating. "Someone mentioned that Dylan was there." His face hardened, his jaw set at the mere mention of his name.

"Um yeah," I said awkwardly.

"Max, what happened? Are you into him?" He asked, his voice hard and serious.

"About the second you left, Dylan popped up and we were talking. He's always been so nice and friendly to me, especially right when I moved here, and hardly knew anyone."

"You knew me," Fang interjected. His face reflected hurt and I was taken aback.

I smiled, "Well, duh. You guys were so cool, so welcoming. I'm just saying he seemed nice at the beginning of the year because he didn't know me at all."

Fang nodded but didn't smile.

"But, he started talking to me and then he asked me to dance. I didn't have a reason not to, or any excuse not to," I quickly added, "so, we danced for a little. A slow song came on, and Iggy was preoccupied, and he kissed me."

"Did you kiss him back?" He asked. His voice sounded angry and his eyes were dark, unreadable.

"Are you serious?" I asked him, my voice sounded unnaturally loud in the mountains, but I didn't care.

"People saw you. They told me. You never did," He said. He kicked his feet together and sheets of snow fell off his skis into the snow beneath us.

"I was pinned to the wall, Fang!" I exclaimed, my angry voice now drawing attention. I quickly lowered it.

"What?" He turned towards me so fast I almost fell off the chairlift that was finally moving again. His voice was deadly calm, but his eyes flashed with anger.

"He had pushed me into the two walls in the corner of the place. I couldn't move. I pulled back and my head was shoved in the corner. I had to rip myself out of his grasp before I could run out. You seriously thought I was into him?" I asked glaring back at him. My gaze softened when I saw Fang's furious face. His mouth was pressed together so tightly his lips turned white and his eyes were narrowed dangerously.

"You don't do that," he said.

"No, I…" I tried to cut in.

"No." He repeated. "You don't do that. You don't pin a girl against the wall and force yourself on her; I don't care who you are. You don't do that." I had never heard Fang's voice get like that – it was quiet, yet his message was clear. I could practically feel the anger radiating off him.

"Fang," I said softly, turning toward him. He had unbuckled his helmet and ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his obsidian eyes met my light brown ones with such intensity I couldn't look away.

"I was afraid you would overreact," I muttered. I didn't need him getting arrested for beating up Dylan. "I didn't want you to do something stupid and get in trouble."

Clearly unfazed, he cracked his knuckles. "He deserves it."

"I know, Fang, but please, please don't do anything about it. It's not worth it. He's not worth it."

He looked at me for a while, then turned back to the trees. We were nearing the top of the chairlift and signs were posted on the big metal posts telling you to put the bar up and prepare to unload.

"I just don't get why you didn't tell me?" He muttered, clicking his skis together again, but there was no snow left this time to clear off.

"Why do you care so much?" I hadn't meant to sound so aggressive, but it came out slightly accusatory, but I didn't apologize anyway. "What if I had been into it?" I don't know what made me say it, but I blurted it out. Typical. Nice filter, Max.

He glared at me for a second. "Because I…I…" He shook his head looking confused. "You're my friend. If anything happened to you, I would…You deserve better than that." He shook his head again. "Sorry for caring."

We had reached the top, and Fang pushed off with his skis and smoothly went off the chairlift and skidded to a stop facing the map. Oh shit. I leaned forward, kept my feet parallel and held out both arms for balance. A true miracle kept me from falling on my face, and I slid over to wear Fang was standing slowing coming to a stop by pushing my ski tips into a pizza.

"Shit," he muttered. "I am so sorry. I totally forget to help you get off the chairlift. Glad to see you made it off in one piece this year." Lucky, I made it off at all. His voice dropped, "I'm really sorry about what Dylan did. He's…" Fang scowled. "There's no word to describe what he did. What he is. It's despicable."

"I know," I said softly leaning my head against his shoulder. I dropped my voice, kicking snow with my ski. "And I wasn't into it. I just said that, I don't why. It was a shitty thing to say."

"I know. I just wish you would have told me. Hearing it from someone else sucked."

"I'm sorry too. I really should've told my best friend," I wrapped my arm around his waist for a second. I felt his chin on my helmet as he nodded.

"People made it sound like you were hooking up," he shuddered from beside me. For some reason the idea of me with Dylan really freaked Fang out. Especially the concept of us hooking up.

"Look," I said, pulling back at looking him straight in the eye. "Dylan's a dick. It's over. I am not into him at all, especially now, I promise. You just have to trust me."

He nodded. "As long as I don't kill him."

"Can you at least tell me why you hate him so much?"

"Does it even need explaining after what he did?"

I shrugged. "Come on. You owe me some ski lessons." I tried pushing off, but almost face planted. Snickering, Fang came up behind me and gave me a push to get me started since I wasn't allowed to use poles until after I could go down a blue by myself according to Fang anyway.

"Just follow me. Go exactly in my ski tracks." He pushed off slowly with his skis, and I imitated him as I got into the grooves his skis made as he carved a path through the powder. "Keep your skis parallel." He turned slowly across the mountain making giant U-shaped tracks that I followed and tried to keep my skis from forming into a giant pizza when I turned.

I studied his form in front of me: bent knees, leaning forward, skis shoulder-width apart. I began to feel more comfortable as we picked up speed as the hill became slightly more steep.

"How's it going?" Fang asked, turning into a quick stop and spraying snow down the mountain.

I shrugged, "Not bad. No falls; so far, so good. How do I stop?"

"It's called a hockey stop. They teach beginners to pizza or snowplow into a stop. That means you just point the tips of your skis together, and you'll slow into a stop, but it's better to try the hockey stop even in the beginning. When you want to stop, you just move your hips in one direction quickly and get you feet to follow. You form a right angle. It's a sharp turn."

"Like this?" I started going down the mountain and followed his instructions. I swung my hips to my left, tried to turn my skis to follow into the hockey stop he had just demonstrated, but naturally the tips of my skis overlapped, I lost my balance and was shortly lying on the ground covered in snow. It wasn't the first time today.

Fang tried to suppress a smile as he slid down to meet me where he extended his pole to help me up. "Try this." Fang slid down to where I was standing and slid into position just inches behind me. He placed his hands on my waist and turned them sharply to the left and stopped when they were facing the woods. He retraced the motion with my hips a few more times to build up the muscle memory and then skied down ahead of me and had me keep following him. I felt a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold and my hips tingled from where his gloves had turned my waist in the stop. Weird.

He was surprisingly a good teacher; he didn't yell at me; he usually refrained from laughing when I fell, and he didn't complain about being stuck on the boring greens with me since he could easily be doing something more challenging. We practiced the hockey stop all afternoon by doing a few stops on each run until I could do it without falling. I only managed to succeed consistently turning to the left, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

By the end of the day, I was a pro at riding the chairlift and could successfully go down most "hard greens" without a full-fledged wipeout. I could even stop about 75% of the time without falling or ramming into Fang. Such improvement.

"You're doing really well, Max," Fang said as we finished our last run for the day. My hands and toes had grown numb ages ago, but the snow was incredible, and it wasn't too dark, so we had kept at it most of the day.

"Always the tone of surprise," I said with a smirk as I popped my boots out of my skis. Fang had explained it was best to buy my own skis when I had a little more experience, so I could figure out what style ski I liked, and to prevent any damage I caused in my frequent falling stage. "But, thanks," I added. "Skiing is definitely more fun with you than my dad, and I might actually be improving."

"How about some blues tomorrow?" He asked wiping down his skis with a towel as we reached the rental shop.

"Sounds awfully ambitious," I said slightly skeptical. I wasn't dying for an injury my first week on skis.

"You can handle it," he said confidently. "You'll be with me."

"You're the worst," I muttered. We waited for the shuttle back eager for a steaming mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream, marshmallows and caramel. I'm high maintenance, sue me.

The next day, we hit the slopes early and I was determined to improve, ready to show everyone that I wasn't as bad as they thought.

"Okay, Max," Iggy said his voice dripping with sarcasm, "now this is the part where you bend your knees. Pretend you're sitting on a toilet. Bend, bend, bend. Okay, now sit!"

Fang shoved him before I could just as the chairlift swung around the corner and scooped us up leaving Iggy behind.

"Hi Fang," Jared said with a smirk at Iggy as we loaded up the lift. "Have fun with Max," he added with a twinkle in his eye. It was like he knew something I didn't, and we're all aware of my control issues. What a weirdo.

"You both suck!" Iggy yelled after swiftly maneuvering the metal chair and sliding back into line with Derek and Gazzy. Neither Ella nor Nudge liked being cold, putting on snow-pants or falling into snow that much, so they were both out shopping all day. What a surprise.

I stuck my tongue out at Iggy as I gracefully skied off of the chairlift coming to a relatively neat stop near Fang at the trailhead. I had been skiing a handful of times now and had gotten more comfortable on snow after I practiced turning and stopping all day with Fang yesterday.

He gave a slow clap as he skied off the lift and then did a quick turn, so he was skiing towards me backwards. What a dirty little show off.

"How's the skiing, Max?" Derek asked me, bumping my fist with his very professional ski glove.

I shrugged, "I'd have to say I'm killing it."

"Debatable," Fang muttered and I lightly shoved him while he chuckled to himself.

"So," Derek said eying Fang. "I think Max deserves to see Fang in full action. A few moguls, a few slalom runs."

"No way," Fang said. "She's not ready."

"Not ready?!" I asked, my voice rising as I turned to face Fang. "I am-"

"She'll be fine," Derek interjected stepping between us ready to interrupt one of our many vocal arguments. "We'll all go down first, and she'll just follow us. I promise I'll go slow," he added with a wink to me. "Then, you can bless us with your talents of ski racing."

"Wooo!" Iggy and Gazzy cheered in unison ignoring the death glare Fang shot at both of them.

"Ski race! Ski race!" Gazzy chanted, his bright blue eyes and spiky blonde hair visible through his goggles and underneath his helmet.

"Come on Fang," Iggy chimed in. "It's been forever. Max wants to see."

Fang glared at both Derek and Iggy, his dark eyes bouncing between them until he finally gave in. "You're both irritating. I'm only doing it so Max can see what real skiing looks like," he said with a smirk at the end towards Derek and Iggy.

Gazzy instantly took off, propelling himself down the mountain. Iggy and Derek followed immediately but turned more frequently and more smoothly than Gazzy whose skis remained parallel to each other and pointed down the whole way. Fang pushed off gracefully and I stumbled after them. Thankfully, I felt much more at ease on skis today and once I started, I was able to follow them on the catwalk that wrapped around the mountain and fed into a gently sloping run. I skidded to a faulty stop and sprayed Gazzy with snow, but he just laughed, and his bright eyes glinted mischievously.

An ominous black diamond sign was perched at the top of the mountain that looked precarious – the run looked much icier than anything I had tried so far, and brightly colored gates were sprinkled across the steep slope. Iggy and Gazzy raced each other, their skis cutting through the ice with each turn.

"Come on," Derek's bright smile contrasted his dark skin against his helmet. He gestured down the mountain, "Just follow exactly in my tracks!" He turned his skis quickly over the edge and made large looping turns over the top half of the mountain.

I looked over the edge terrified. The steep icy black diamond run was miles beyond any greens I had done yesterday.

"You don't have to do this," I heard Fang's quiet voice beyond me. But rather than support me, it just irritated me and was the push I needed to tip over the mountain. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and suddenly my skis were gliding over the ice. I followed the soft tracks Derek left and pushed my skis into a pizza as I began my ungraceful turn down the mountain. The breeze blew through my hair as I slid across the ice. The feeling was surreal. Fang was right; it was exactly what I imagined flying would be like. I grit my teeth in concentration and managed to do my last arching turns with my skis more parallel as opposed to a pizza. My face split into a huge grin as I reached the bottom, ecstatic that I hadn't suffered any serious injuries on my first black diamond ever.

"This calls for celebration," Derek said with a grin as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "You killed it."

"Thanks," I said brightly. "It only took me about an hour to get down." I didn't care that it took me so long to get down – speed was something I could work on later; right now, I wanted to appreciate my new skiing ability.

"I may have to retract my statements from earlier," Iggy said, his pale eyes glimmering in the Sun as he held out his hand for a fist bump. "Gnarly." I rolled my eyes, but slid over to watch Fang dazzle us with his brilliance.

My breath caught in my mouth as Fang's nimble figure jumped over the ledge and began to literally fly down the mountain, whipping in between the colored gates and smacking each one he passed with his pole. I had never seen anyone move like that – so graceful yet powerful, so strong and prominent yet elegant. His knees arched in perfect unison at each curve where his ankles nearly scraped the ground while his skis carved slick tracks into the ice.

He finished abruptly in front of us spraying a small bit of snow at Gazzy who laughed again. Derek and Iggy slapped him on the back. "There he is!" Derek chuckled.

"Guess who's back. Back again. Fang's back…Tell a friend," Iggy sang loudly. "Sick, man."

Fang rolled his eyes. I had a retort at the tip of my tongue ready for him about not being able to ski down, but it flew away as I watched. "I guess that was pretty good," I said with a soft laugh.

"Pretty good?" He raised his eyebrows while the smirk toyed with his lips, and I shrugged, and it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Fang and Derek skied off following Gazzy who was a clear speed-monster.

"Hey, Ig" I said, and he slowed down to be at my pace. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ask away," he turned slowly, practicing carving his skis into the fresh powder and I imitated him.

"Why doesn't Fang ski race anymore?" Iggy shrugged, but refuse to meet my gaze. "Come on, Iggy. I know you know."

He turned his face to look at me, and his mouth wasn't split in its usual grin and his eyes were heavy and gray. "It's a later story. It's…" he paused, flicking up unnecessary amounts of snow with his poles. "It's a long story." I stumbled. I was expecting something simple like he got burnt out or maybe even injured himself one day. "I'll tell you one day, Max. I promise."

He pushed ahead of me slowly and I was left confused and frantically shuffling to catch up in his wake.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, I really appreciate the feedback! Any more reviews and comments would be greatly appreciated - I would love advice and critques on how to move the story forward. Hope everyone enjoys the chapter. More reviews could potentially get a faster update for the next chapter as well...:)