A/N- Chapter 7 is finally done! So I'm not going to say when I'll upload next lol because I never stick to it. My mind is always on these two stories, thinking up different scenes to write- but then I open my laptop and it's hard to get going so then I just don't. It's annoying, because I want to finish these stories- especially A Twist Of Fate. But hopefully will be done with that on by the end of this year, then I can just focus on this one. Thanks for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Bethany x

Chapter 7- The Other Instructor

"How about this?" Mar asks, holding up a mug with some cheesy 80's skier plastered on it.

I pull a face. "I'd say it depends on who you're buying for, but I don't think anyone would want that as a gift."

"I don't know…" She sings, pointing at the skier, "I think he'd like this cup." She places it back on the shelf, then scans the rest of the small gift shop. Her face drops in frustration, "This is going to be impossible."

I stifle a yawn, talking through it, "It'd be easier to help you if we knew who you have." My eyes feel heavy as I flip through a book in French. I put it back down when the words start to blur together. Was it really only yesterday we picked out our Secret Santa names? Being out on the slopes from sunrise to sunset is starting to take its toll. Add the grilling I had from Mar and Chris last night and I've basically been sleepwalking through the whole day.

Marlene mimes zipping her smiling lips.

"Hey, Tris!" Chris yells from the other side of the shop, "Come see this." I walk around the shelf, Mar in tow. Smiling at the shopkeeper, I move around his checkout, finding Christina in the midst of teddy overload. She pops her head out, grinning, "Look what I found." She holds in front of her a more than familiar looking teddy.

"No way," I laugh, my exhaustion forgotten. She holds a white teddy, a scarf wrapped around its neck and a jumper covering its upper body- very much like the one up in our room. She hands it over and I brush my hand over the French flag on his jumper. It's the most notable difference between the two teddies. "He's in better shape than Stanley."

"That name, Tris," Chris shakes her head, "What was baby Tris thinking?"

Some fog in my mind seems to clear, letting a memory flood in that I didn't even know existed. Snippets of an old ski trip melt into my mind. Mum and Dad with some other couple. Caleb and I playing in the snow outside the mountain top bar- and very faintly, some kid, a metre or so away from us, holding the stuffed animal.

I frown, looking down at the skiing mascot. Why don't I remember this kid? I guess it's not surprising that I haven't recalled this memory until now. I don't remember much from when I was in reception.

A hand on my shoulder brings me back into the room. I look behind and see Mar's amused face. "You alright there?"

"Yeah." I pass the toy back to Christina, my mind still wondering. "If only he had the Italian flag on his jumper, then they'd be identical." The memory must have come from the few times we skied down in Tuscany. We haven't been there in years- was my fourth year really the last time we were there? That must have been the last time we skied without the Pedrads.

Marlene moves between me and Christina, picking up the fluffy teddy. She studies it for a moment, then smiles, raising her brows at me. "I think I know just what gift to get."

...

The next morning, we're back on the mountain. I yawn into my gloved hand, looking out over the small village, the rising sun cast a misty glow on the blurry houses. Having worked on the green slopes for the last time yesterday, Four's decided that I'm good enough to be shoved on a stair lift and told to make it back down the bottom. I'm already half way down, having practised my heel and toe stops. Now he wants me to go straight.

I squint down the slope, and see him 10 or so metres away. It's a foggy morning, leaving me partly depleted of my most important sense. I see him look at the watch on his wrist. "20 minutes!" 20 minutes until class skiing starts. 20 minutes to get to the bottom.

I take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I don't bother with my goggles, knowing I wont be going fast enough for the wind to be a bother. I bend my knees slightly, putting more weight forward. The board starts to slip immediately, and it takes all my willpower to not stop. My hands itch for the poles they're so used to holding, but the air is all they feel as my arms splay out to keep my balance.

"Start to turn!" He calls. I don't bother looking up, too focused on where my board is going. I put more of my weight on my right side, and feel the board move with me. I let it keep turning, until my body is parallel to the slope, and my speed picks up. I've done it a few times with Four, hence me being half way down the slope. It felt okay then, having Four being my anchor. But now, by myself, I feel my control loosening. My mind starts to go blank, and I look up in panic.

Four's getting closer and closer by the second. The closer I get to him, the more vivid I can see the realisation hit him that we're about to collide. I try to rack my brain for a way to slow down. Snow ploughing is out of the question, I need free legs for that. I can see myself now, slamming straight into Four, us both crashing to the ground. I let my mind stay blank, hoping pure instinct will take over.

Just in time, I lean back and right, missing him by less than a metre. I cross the slope, only slowing down slightly before I hit something. My legs buckle and I smack into the floor, my head banging against the compact snow. I feel one of my feet break away from the board, the other held awkwardly alone. I squeeze my eyes against the sharp pain that pulses against my skull. I sit there for a moment, thinking over my body. I only feel a mild ache everywhere else. Looks like my head's cushioned the fall. It's surprising how easy it is to forget how much it hurts to fall, having learnt how to ski as such a young child.

I slowly peel my eyes open as I hear snow crunching under footsteps. I go to turn my head, but wince at the harsh throbbing.

He kneels down. "That looked like it hurt."

"These helmets do nothing," I mumble, pushing myself up slowly. I unclip it, taking it off. I rub my hand over the back of my head. Between the two french braids, I feel a lump already forming.

"You'd be a lot worse off if you weren't wearing it," Four says, sitting back on his heels.

My head begins to feel hot, and am pretty sure there's blood pooling- on top or underneath the skin? I turn my head to Four, "Am I bleeding?"

He chuckles. I frown, going to feel the back of my head for what must be the 20th time. Instead, I feel him grab my hand. I turn around as he moves it away from my sore skull. "It's not bleeding." He keeps a hold of my hand, then grabs the other one as he starts to pull me up with him. I begrudgingly let him, not in the mood to finish the session or start skiing for the rest of the morning. "But I think you're going to beat the beginners on the injury tally."

I force out a smile, rubbing my jaw unconsciously. He grabs the helmet out of my hands, putting it back on my head. I can't help but watch him as he secures the strap under my chin. Two lines are pulled between his brows in concentration, his lips pressing together.

"Ready?"

Praying the burning in my cheeks doesn't show, I look past him, down the empty slope. Sighing, I nod.

"Okay, now concentrate." I resist rolling my eyes. Like I wasn't concentrating the last time. "You're going to have to carve into the slope- kind of like you did before you fell." He turns his head, smirking. I open my mouth to retaliate, but he keeps going. "It's not too far to the bottom. Complete this and we'll take the evening off."

Pretty good motivation. My aching body could use a break. I clip my boot back into my board, getting ready to go.

Four moves out of the way. I tilt my head, "You not going?"

He grins, "I think I'll stay behind you."

I shake my head as he moves slightly behind me. "Not funny."

"Not joking." I vaguely hear him say, having pushed off already. I let the board slide for a metre or two before moving my weight sideways. This time, I don't go fully straight, instead keeping diagonal, then leaning my weight slightly backwards to try and slow down, like we practised. But like my last wipeout, the real challenge is going to be stopping.

The wind whips my face as I carry on down the slope. I stumble a few times, but am able to right myself before I lose control like before. The flood lights suddenly pop out of the fog, letting me know I'm coming up to the flat. I successfully bring my board horizontal to the slope, digging the back of the board into the snow to try and slow down.

From the corner of my eye, I see Four's back form pass me. I don't think much of it, too focused on not messing this last bit up. The ground starts to level out and I lean back, gradually slowing down. I start to grin, knowing I'm about to actually stop by myself. But before I get the pleasure, I'm swept up off of my feet. My heart jumps into my throat, choking the gasp out of me. I come to a stop immediately, my ribs hurting from the force taken against them.

When they put me down, I quickly unbuckle my boots so I can spin around. "What the hell, Four?" I demand, looking into his unimpressed face. "I had that."

His brows raise, his gaze going over my head. I look around, confused as to what he's- oh. A group of small children are sitting on the floor, their fluorescent bibs like a beacon to all slope users. Well, most slope users.

Turning back to him, a sheepish smile crosses my face, "I so knew they were there."

He rolls his eyes, but I catch his lip twitch.

Any humour present on his face vanishes in an instant. I look around, confused, following his gaze. He's looking to the entrance of the lodge. Coming out of the door by himself is Mar and Will's instructor, walking towards us.

"For fucks sake," Four mumbles under his breath.

I can't remember the guy's name, but I do know Mar said he has a short temper. "Aren't you guys friends?" I ask Four, keeping my voice low. Zeke, Shauna and Four are always sitting with the other two instructors at lunch and dinner.

He pulls a disgusted face, answering my question.

When the guy comes within earshot, I keep my mouth shut. His features are sharper than Fours, the many piercings here and there emphasising his harsh face.

His eyes stay on Four. "You're out early." Four shrugs in response.

The tension between the two is palpable. My eyes shift between them, questioning how I ever thought they may be friends. The other instructor's eyes are slightly narrowed, whilst Four seems unbothered. That is until my eyes shift to the fists at his side.

When I look back up, the instructor's eyes are on me. His gaze is almost like being devoured by a black hole. He looks back to Four, smiling slightly. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Four, looking like he'd rather do anything but that, tips his head towards me, "Tris, Eric, Eric, Tris."

I nod my head in greeting.

He quickly zones in on me, causing me to involuntarily step back. "And what are you doing out here with Four, huh? Trying to earn some extra curriculum points?"

I almost laugh at what he's implying. I wish. Instead, my face scrunches. "Our skiing lessons aren't graded-"

"-The students don't compete." Four says at the same time. Our heads cut to each other.

"Of course! My mistake." Eric gushes, "My mind has just been on the competition in February- you know, the one I always win?"

Lips tightly pressed together, Four nods.

"The snowboarding competition?" I question. Four had mentioned something about it being at the start of next year.

He looks back at me, peeling his stare from Four. His head slowly nods, "Interested?"

I don't miss his condescending tone. I smile dumbly, cocking my head to the side, "Maybe."

Eric's eyes thin. "What are you doing out here with Four?"

"None of your business." I say flatly.

Eric eyebrows shoot up his forehead, then he laughs. His eyes fall to our boards, his smile replacing with a frown. "Aren't we teaching skiing?"

Four sighs, sounding exasperated, "For fucks sake, Eric, quit with the questions."

Eric holds out his hands in defence, then directs his attention solely to Four. "Can you blame me, though? You, an instructor- with your student out here all alone-"

Four steps forward, his body tense, "What point are you trying to make?" I can't see his face anymore, but his voice is icy cold.

Eric, too, takes a step towards my instructor, chin lifted, "Why don't you tell me."

I step in, before they rip each other's throats out. "He's teaching me snowboarding- so I can compete in the competition." These boys must have some deep issues with each other, to get so riled up so easily.

Both their heads turn to me. My eyes flicker between the two. Eric, unsurprisingly, looks amused by my admission. Four, on the other hand, makes me regret saying anything. He rubs his forehead, then drags it down the side of his face.

Eric's amused smile finds me again, "So you're new to snowboarding? And you're entering the competition that's happening in 2 months?" If he could possibly look any more amused, then I'm sure he would. "And who's the idiot that's partnering with you?"

Harsh?

My eyes flicker to Four unconsciously. It was an obvious mistake as Eric barks out another laugh. I resist dragging my own hand down my face.

"You?" Four doesn't react. "You're finally competing again and she's who you partner up with?" He shakes his head, "You're better off just not competing."

"Piss of, Eric-"

He cuts Four off, "You know there's hundreds of people gagging to partner up with you, right? Lauren? Daniel, Luke-"

"Why do you care so much?" I butt in, raising my brows. "If I'm so bad, isn't this an easy win?"

Arrogantly, he chides, "Because I deserve some real competition."

Voices come from behind Eric, and I can see my classmates coming out of the boots room. Eric looks around too, his shaggy, almost black hair whipping around with him.

Before the class gets close enough to hear, Eric says, "Maybe next time you should actually ask the others if they want to compete with you- before you pick new meat."

He does a two finger salute in parting, then walks off in the direction of the right slopes. He calls his group over, already giving instructions.

I lean down, grabbing our two boards "I'll take these back," I say quickly, not looking at him.

"Tris-" He says, and I just about feel his hand graze my arm. But I've already started walking back to the lodge.

I pass my friends, smiling quickly at them but moving on. I hold the boards close to my chest, quickly making my way into the empty boot room.

It's not hard to brush comments off, pretend to the commenter that their words don't hit. But the reality is that they'll always land.

Is this a stupid idea? Am I just going to embarrass myself against all these seasoned snowboarders? Embarrass Four? It makes me question again why he even thought to train me, why he wants me as his partner. Maybe Eric's right; maybe he would be better not competing at all.

I drop the boards onto the bench heavily. I glance at my skis, my arms feeling like weights at my sides. Maybe I can say I'm not feeling well, miss skiing for the day. Four did say that we'll for go practice this evening-

I spin around, hearing the creak of the heavy door opening. I stare at the doorway into the boots room, waiting for whoever came through the outside door to walk through the hallway. The slap of bulky boots get closer as the seconds pass, and I already know who followed me in.

He rounds the corner, standing in the doorway. One of Eric's many comments comes to mind. Can you blame me, though? You, an instructor- with your student out here all alone-

I wonder what he thought when it was said- what do I think? Would it even cross Four's mind that I could like him? That he could like-

"He's just trying to wind me up, Tris. He gets off on it."

I turn around, pulling my skis off the rack with force. "Well, it sucks to be in the crossfire."

I turn and look at him, another thing Eric said, taking my attention. "Is there really no one else to partner up with? Because from the sounds of it you have a line of fans willing to take my place." If there's better options, people who he knows better than me, then why ask me to learn a new sport knowing I'm not going to be half as good as any of them? "Is this some sort of game for you? Setting me up to fail-"

"Do you think so low of me that you believe that? That I'd put my time into training you just to get some sick pleasure out of your defeat?" Sounding offended, I slam my mouth shut. He yanks his skis off the opposite rack, looking back at me as he tightly holds onto his skis. "I chose you because it hadn't even crossed your mind to enter this stupid competition. Unlike everyone else, you weren't scratching at my door so you could get an easy win." He walks back to the exit, his black form such a contrast against the white walls of the boot room. He pauses, and I hold my breath, unsure what else he could say, how else he could say it. "I see potential in you, Tris. I think as a team we've got a good chance at winning." He looks back at me, shrugging, "Just depends if you see it too."

He walks out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the unused sports equipment.