SEX/YES

The boy with “SEX” on the bottom of his snowboard, I met him in January. 

January ninth, the first time we taught together. He was introverted. Asked for my name, and stopped talking to me. 

It didn’t matter to me. We were only teaching together for the season. Seven weeks, every Sunday.

He treated me like a younger sister. 

Stole snowballs from the kids and pretended to throw them at me. 

So I made my own. He saw me and asked what I was doing.

I dropped my hands to the side. 

“Nothing.”

He looked skeptical.

I told him he could trust me. 

He said he didn’t trust me, but he was smiling. 

It was a joke. 

I think. 

The kids bugged him about going on the chairlift.

He told the kids we could go on it the next class. 

“Yay.”

Who knew little kids were so full of enthusiasm? 

I promised them we could go on it by the end of seven weeks.

He thanked me for that.

We waited together for a student’s dad who was running late. 

I liked spending time alone with him, even if it was silent. 

That's how siblings feel. I think. 

I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any. 

We weren’t alone for too long. His friend came. 

So I waited alone for a student’s dad who was running late. 

It was sunny today.

 His eyes were a translucent amber/green/brown colour. (Choose one of the above).

They were practically glowing. 

We took the kids on the chairlift, as promised. 

He fell over one of the students, and landed on their board.

“Aw, I ate it.”

“Don’t worry - I didn’t see anything!”

“Shhh.”

Shhh.

I taught a kid who couldn’t get back up. He came over to help.

I ended up taking his “SEX” board down the hill.

“Did you fall?”

“No?”

“Awh.”

“Were you praying for my downfall?”

“No.”

Exactly like a brother.

We took the same kid back up the chairlift. She was in between us.

“I’m scared.”

He put his hands on her waist and helped her down.

They got off fine.

“Hey, you didn’t fall this time!”

“Shhh.”

Today was shit. I knew it was going to be shit the moment I woke up. I hate this program. 

It wasn’t even him who made me upset. It was some other irrelevant kid. 

But I was upset going into teaching with him.

He said “hey” first. 

Then he said, “Your favourite student is here.”

“Yay.”

I was as enthusiastic as the kids.

The kids wanted my name. I gave it to them, and a nickname.

And so he learnt my name for the second time.

He likes coffee. 

I find it atrocious. 

At least we won’t be fighting over who drank the last cup.

He forgot my name today. 

He even called me “Snowboard Girl.”

Then he stole a snowball from a student and threw it at me. 

There’s never real apologies between siblings.

It was the second last session today.

He wasn’t here. We had a substitute instructor. 

The kids were happy to see me though.

The youngest one waddled to me, asking me to do their bindings.

Another wanted to tell me she saw me earlier, and followed me around the hill. 

They were slightly upset he wasn’t teaching them today.

They asked me where he was. Like I’d know.

The youngest said he thought he was my boyfriend.

“He’s like my brother.”

“Well if you aren’t his girlfriend, you must be the substitutes!”

The last day, he looked sad. 

Hopefully it was because it was his last time seeing me. 

Probably not.

He was impatient today too. Wanted the kids to walk faster even if their legs couldn’t keep up with him. 

So I took the youngest’s board. 

Then another wanted me to hold her board.

And another.

Eventually I was holding four.

“What have they done to you?”

As if it wasn’t because of him that I was holding their boards.

He tried taking them away from me.

“I got it, I got i-”

He ended up taking two.

We stood together for a while after the kids left.

He talked first.

“It was good working with you.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you teaching here again next year?”

“Maybe. I might go somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Probably the hill next to this one.”

“Ew. I’d understand if it was somewhere bigger, but that hill?”

We laughed.

He said he was going to do a few park laps and walked towards the park.

Was that really the last conversation I would have with him?

I said something to make him stay a little longer; I asked if he remembered my name.

He couldn’t remember. 

He said I was better off working at the other hill. 

It was a joke.

I think.

I told him I was waiting for a friend.

He left.

I lied.

I saw him again in March.

I recognized him while on the chairlift.

I recognized him by his “SEX” board.

And his stance.

And his bindings.

And his goggles.

And his mittens.

I pretended to talk to a friend at the park’s drop-in. I didn’t want to make eye contact with him.

I caved.

I looked his way.

He was staring at my back.

He looked up.

I don’t know who looked away first.

Did he remember my name?

I didn’t see him again until the next winter.

I decided to teach at the same hill. 

Maybe because of him.

I saw him across the slope.

It was the “SEX” board that made it obvious.

Except it wasn’t “SEX” on his snowboard; it was “YES.”

I only noticed when he was far from me; a distance so far that my only option was to observe.

He saw me too. 

I know he looked away first. 

He was teaching with another girl, around the same age I started.

Maybe he’d forget her name too.

She’d fall for him.

Maybe he’d fall too.

 Even his board was in agreement.