Shattered by Tracy Wolff

Author:Tracy Wolff [Wolff, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Coming of Age, Contemporary Women
ISBN: 9780804177757
Google: qEVEAgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00F1W0RYQ
Publisher: Flirt
Published: 2014-05-20T04:00:00+00:00

We hit the half-pipe early the next morning, almost before the sun is up in the sky. Normally the resort doesn’t have a half-pipe—boarding Chile is all about the Andes—but Z hired someone to build one before we even got down here, and then made sure there was someone around who actually knew how to care for it and keep it in good condition. It seems crazy to think about him spending close to fifty grand on a half-pipe for a week, but then it’s no more crazy than what he’s spent on this whole trip.

I mean it’s awesome, and I’m glad to see him putting some of the money he inherited to use to help Timmy, but still, the half-pipe seems a bit excessive on top of everything else. Unless I take into account the rest of his agenda, which is much more about me than it is about Timmy. I know he did this for Timmy because he’s a good person and he helps where he can, but he also did this because he wants to get me back on a board permanently.

He wants to make me remember how much I love snowboarding. How much I love the thrill of riding backcountry and how I love barging the half-pipe even more.

What he doesn’t know is that I’m already there. Even after everything that happened yesterday—even after the avalanche and Logan’s panic and the fact that I was very nearly buried alive—I’d board backcountry again in a second. I’d do the Andes, the Alps, the Rockies. Hell, I’d even do the death traps of Patagonia again if it meant I got a chance to ride. I don’t really give a shit where I ride as long as I ride.

Which, of course, is exactly why I can’t do it.

I used to think I had goals, plans, ambitions for my boarding. Used to think I rode because I was good at it and because it would get me an X Games medal, an Olympic medal, give me a career I both enjoyed and was good at. But now that I’ve gone seven months without boarding, I know the truth.

I board because I’m a fucking junkie. A snowboarding junkie, an adrenaline junkie. It doesn’t fucking matter. I love everything about snowboarding, the good and the bad. The exhilarating and the terrifying. Even the insane.

Yesterday was no exception. Even in the middle of that fucking avalanche, when I thought for sure I was going to buy it, there was something amazing in the ride. Something that made me feel alive like nothing else ever has.

And that’s what Z doesn’t understand.

He’s an adrenaline junkie and the most fucking talented snowboarder I’ve ever met, but boarding isn’t in his blood. Not the way it’s in mine. He does it because it gives him a rush. I do it because I don’t feel alive if I’m not on a snowboard. I don’t feel much of anything.

For most of my life snowboarding was everything to me and I know—I know—how easy it would be to slip right back into that.

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