text: The sun glistened off the powdered snow-covered mountainside as Darren and his friends exited their vehicle at the ski resort. Hundreds of people made their way from cars or from the chalet with one purpose in mind; to take on the snow-covered giant before them. Darren and his best friend, Shane, decided to grab a hot cup of coffee before hitting the slopes. Jack, their other sidekick, headed straight for the lift. Dozens of people crowded the chalet. Many sat close to the massive fireplace that warmed the chilled bones of the skiers and snowboarders who had already been down the mountain. There looked to be a few that were not there to ski but enjoyed the ambiance of it all. After the chills had left their bodies, Darren donned his salopettes, a pair of waterproof snow pants and his Helly Hansen ski jacket, grabbed his skis, and the two of them headed toward the door. As they opened the door to the chalet, the frosty air felt like a slap in the face. Darren pulled down his balaclava. Shane didn’t seem bothered by the cold. He grew up in Northern Alberta, Canada where the winters were extremely frigid, so this felt like a Spring Day to him. As they reached the lift, Shane, and Darren each sat on a T-Bar and were carried up the glistening slope. As they reached the top, they pushed away from the T-Bars and headed to the top of the Black Run, a ski hill for advanced skiers. Darren was a little nervous. He had never attempted a slope this difficult before, but he did not want to look like a coward in front of his friend. A shout came from ahead of them. It was Jack waving his arms frantically among the sea of skis and snowboards. Once they caught up with him, Jack had informed them that he had already been down the mountain twice and the snow was a perfectly packed powder. They all made their way to the piste, the designated area for skiing, and Darren was in awe of the view. It was a beautiful landscape of mountains, frozen-over lakes, and evergreen trees that were drooping from the weight of the fallen snow. On the Blue Run, or beginner hill, a piste basher was grooming the slope for the next batch of skiers. The massive machine crept down the mountain like a 400-horsepower tortoise, smoothing the surface of the slope. Jack was the first to head back down. He was bombing across the light powder like a rocket on skis, and as he hit a kicker, he was sent airborne where he spread his arms and legs into an eagle stance before landing back on the ground. Shane was next to go. He was schussing straight down with little or no variations to his form. When it was Darren’s turn, he slipped the goggles over his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed off. In seconds he felt the rush of the wind against his body as he tried to steady his legs. He looked to the sky and noticed a flat light forming. Low, grey clouds hovered above, and the sunlight disappeared. Distracted by the change in weather, Darren failed to notice the moguls ahead; small pyramid-like mounds of snow created by skiers as they turn. His left ski caught the mogul, and he found himself heading off course toward the trees, when out of nowhere, he felt an impact against his right side. Darren toppled down the mountain until he face-planted into a deep pile of light powdered snow. Seconds later, something fell on top of him, pushing his face deeper into the snow. As he managed to struggle his way out of the snowy airbag, he felt the weight on top of him subside. Turning over, he saw the silhouette of a person kneeling above him. Removing his goggles, he saw the face of a beautiful woman surrounded by a pink hood. Her eyes reminded him of the water in The Maldives. They were so blue, that it was almost hypnotic. “Are you alright?” the girl asked. “Um, yes, I think so,” Darren replied. “Sorry if I got in your way. I lost control on a mogul.” “That’s okay. No actual harm done, though I think we both might be a little sore by tomorrow,” she said. “My name is Francesca, but my friends just call me, Frankie.” “I’m Darren. It was great bumping into you,” he said with a sarcastic grin. “Are you here alone, Darren?” “No, I came with two of my friends. They are probably waiting for me at the bottom of the hill. What about you?” “I’m here with my friend, Ashley. She is likely sitting in the chalet sipping on hot chocolate right now.” Frankie helped Darren to his feet, and after checking to make sure the bindings on their skis were still intact, they continued down the slope together. At the bottom, Frankie told Darren that she was going to take a break and warm up in the chalet, and Darren offered to join her. He spotted Shane and told him that he would have to continue skiing without him for a little while, then he headed inside the chalet as well. As Darren entered the chalet, he scanned the room for Frankie. He spotted two girls sitting by the fire and approached them from behind. He reached down and tapped the shoulder of the blonde girl in the pink ski jacket who sat with her back to him. She turned and stared at Darren with a look of confusion. It wasn’t Frankie. He was embarrassed and apologized to the woman. He then heard his name being called. As he turned, two brunettes sat at a table further over. It was Frankie and her friend. He explained to Frankie that he could not see her hair color beneath the hat, so it was an honest mistake. They all laughed as Darren sat down with them. Frankie introduced him to Ashley. Frankie explained that Ashley was studying to be a nurse and felt that she should be at home studying instead of out having fun, but Frankie admitted she could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. Darren mention to her that his friend, Shane was a paramedic, and they would probably have a lot to talk about. Later that afternoon, Jack and Shane returned to the chalet. Darren and the women were still deep in conversation as they walked up. Darren introduced them, and Jack instantly began to turn on the charm, only to be shot down in an instant by Ashley. She welcomed Shane to have a seat instead. Jack, feeling like a fifth wheel, scanned the room for other possibly single women and excused himself as he went on his quest. They watched as he approached the same blonde woman that Darren had mistaken for Frankie. He sat down beside her and began to speak, then moments later, he stood up and walked away with his tail between his legs, then moving onto the next victim, he continued with the cheesy lines until someone accepted him. Shane and Ashley spoke in medical jargon that neither Darren nor Frankie could understand, so they went for a walk to the front of the chalet by the large windows overlooking the slope. As they gazed out, Darren pointed out a skier who was showing off his aerials. He hit the kicker and caught a lot of air. The skier grabbed the tips of both skis and coasted through the air. “Did you want to hit the slopes one more time, Darren?” Frankie asked. “On one condition,” he said. “I will go if you allow me to take you out on a date.” Frankie’s face turned a crimson red. “I thought you’d never ask.” Leaving their friends behind, they took to the slopes again. The sun was out once again, though the day was ending, and they only had about an hour or two of sunlight left. At the top of the Black Run, Frankie reminded Darren to watch out for moguls as she pushed off down the slope. Not wanting to get too far behind, Darren quickly headed down after her. He crouched down, trying to add an aerodynamic flow around him. He spotted Frankie up ahead, but waves of powdered snow peppered his face, temporarily blinding him. When he looked back up, Frankie had disappeared. Further down, Darren spotted a set of tracks going off to the right of the piste, not far from where they had collided earlier. Carving into the snow with his skis, Darren turned his body to the right and followed the path left behind by Frankie’s skis. He traversed carefully across the fresh powder and into the trees where he came to a quick stop as the tracks disappeared into a deep crevasse. Afraid of falling in himself, Darren coasted backward away from the edge, then after removing his skis, he laid flat upon his belly and inched his way to the edge. Looking down, he saw a shadowy figure below. He called down to Frankie, but she didn’t answer. He knew that he needed to get some help, so he ran back out to the piste and flagged down a passing skier. He asked the man to send help back up when he reached to bottom of the slope. The skier rushed down the hill in search of assistance. Twenty minutes had passed, and Darren heard snowmobiles approaching. He hurried back out to the opening and waved them over. A rescue team, equipped with backpacks filled with gear, followed him to the crevasse. One of the rescuers was lowered down into the crack and then secured a harness around Frankie. She still wasn’t moving. As they raised her up, Darren was shocked to see that it wasn’t Frankie at all, but another skier he had never met before. Relief washed over him, and all he could think of was getting back down to see Frankie. Hitching a ride with the rescuers, Darren made it back to the chalet where a crowd of people along with local EMS waited. Darren spotted Frankie and the others in the crowd and ran over, wrapping his arms around her. “I lost sight of you on the slopes,” he explained. “I thought it was you that had fallen in the crevasse. I am truly glad it wasn’t.” “When you didn’t show up at the bottom of the hill, and then the rescue team was sent up, I started thinking it was you that was injured,” Frankie replied. They squeezed each other tightly once again, then kissed for the first time. It was a magical moment amongst the chaos. It didn’t take long before word of Darren’s assistance started circulating. On the news a couple of days later, he was labeled as a hero for saving the life of a stranger. Darren, however, didn’t feel like a hero. He felt that he was just in the right place at the right time. Frankie argued with him though, stating that he was her hero, because he saved her heart from dying.