Walking on Thin Ice: Chapter 17

"Noooooo!" The voice was shrill and annoying. It was Caroline. There was a heavy thud on Mike's door, jarring him out of the peaceful sleep that had held him so tightly for near fourteen hours. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, climbing to his feet to start the day. He felt rather rejuvenated, having slept for so long, but he couldn't shake the half-lidded sleepy expression from his face. He found his tattered jeans and pulled them on, following with a t-shirt that could have been cleaner. Thinking twice before opening the door to the rest of the hallway, he tugged a hooded sweatshirt on over the shirt and stared at Caroline, standing half-way out of her room, her top currently off and in her boyfriend's hands as he grappled with her for a remote control. True, she was wearing underclothes, but Mike still took a few steps back into his room and waited ten minutes before venturing out again.

As he entered the kitchen, he couldn't help but snicker. Gemma was much like himself; tired and very groggy looking. She was sitting at the counter, coffee in her cup, but she had laid her head across her arm and was almost asleep.

"Good morning to you as well," he murmured, poking her in the side.

She jumped up, spilling the cup onto the counter, cursing loudly. She looked sheepishly at Amir, who was having a very bad hair day. He smiled understandingly and sat down next to her with a huge stack of paper towels. Gemma mopped up the mess before sitting down again, poking Mike once in retaliation. He let out a very girlish scream, avoiding Rich's surprised glance from the living area.

Caroline was whining to him about how he'd stretched her top out anyway.

Something weird was striking Mike. It wasn't that he was feeling more and more awake without caffeine, it was that Gemma wasn't dressed and lounging around so comfortably that he had to shake his head and smile every time she yawned and started to sit down in various places. She walked from the kitchen to the living area, yawned, and sat down on a footrest. Five minutes later she trudged back to her kitchen stool, yawned, and sat down there. Around eleven o' clock she went upstairs and got dressed, coming down with a bouncy look in her eye.

"My my, aren't we in a good mood?" Caroline crooned, making various kissy faces at Gemma.

She rolled her eyes. "So sue me,"

Mike dreaded what was coming next; she was going to tell him to suit up because he was going to learn how to ski. His heart sank as she looked over his tattered jeans. He felt very self-conscious as she did so, and found himself picking at the sewn seams running over the leg, connecting to a large hole in the knee. She clucked her tongue before turning without a word to collect her headband and gloves. She pulled on her coat and other items, slipping her boots on without a word.

"Where ya goin'?" Caroline asked, her head cocked in a ditzy way.

Gemma shrugged. "Just for a walk now, maybe check rental ski prices, scope some slopes."

The other woman pulled her coat on. "Can I come?"

"Sure, always need company." Gemma shrugged and waited for Caroline to get her gloves and hat on before they left together, chatting quietly.

As soon as the door closed, an unmistakable sound drifted up from the basement. Led Zeppelin pounded from the small stereo system downstairs; Mike followed Rich to the source of the sound. Almost immediately, a serious game of pool was started. They played partners, Mike teaming up with Amir since his skills had rusted down, Rich tearing up the velvet. They played a few games before interest was lost and they had resort to beer and manly chatter.

"So, how long you been dating Caroline?" Amir asked, pulling the tab on a Canadian draft. Mike grimaced at the beverage, not used to it quite yet.

Rich shrugged. "Since high school I guess, maybe a bit in middle school."

Amir snickered. "Lost count, eh? You aren't planning a marriage?"

"Well, she wants one of those fancy weddings, so we're saving money. I've told my family that for five years now," he rolled his eyes playfully. Averting the attention from himself, he asked, "So Mike, how long have you and Gemma been dating?"

Mike thought for a moment. "I think three months,"

Amir gasped. "You better find out your third month anniversary or that woman will have your head!"

"Ah, she's not like that," Mike smiled.

Rich was thinking carefully. "Yeah, she doesn't seem like Caroline in that way. Seems a little bit more easy-going. She's taking life nice and slow."

He nodded. "Yeah, she's very laid-back."

"No marriage in sight for you, is there Mike?" Rich asked, eyes sparkling.

It was a well-thought out pause before Mike shrugged and resumed drinking.

"Oh? What will she say if we ask her?" Amir wagged his eyebrows.

He shrugged. "Probably the same thing; just a shrug. We're both taking this nice and slow; she lost her fiancé and I lost a wife. No hurry."

Rich choked. "You were married before?"

Jokingly, Mike fluffed his hair. "I must look pretty young, huh?"

"You just didn't seem like the kind of guy who would be married."

Before Mike could reply, Amir stopped him. "Wait, Mike! Um, can you get my...book for me? Up in my room, on the bedside table?"

There was a pause, both men were staring at him, eyes open with wide expectations. Slowly he started to get up to get the object, but Amir stopped him again, laughing.

"Just kidding, that was a test. There's your answer, Rich, he's just nice-"

"Ooh, I know you didn't just call me nice too!" Mike fumed.

The door opened while Rich and Amir peeled off into fresh laughter. Gemma slid into the room, kicked off a snowy boot while trying to unzip her coat. Caroline walked by her, her hair mussed slightly from her hat, but she still looked perky and cute. When Gemma had finally wrestled her coat off, she slid up to the edge of the couch to talk to Mike.

With a sort of stifled amusement, Amir and Rich watched the conversation, both hushing Caroline so as to hear every word exchanged.

"So, skis are cheap as well, but they're going quick. We should start now so you'll be on the face by the end of the week. What do you think?" She asked, reaching up to take the empty beer can from his hand.

Sighing sort of reluctantly, Mike rubbed his face and replied, "I don't know. Tempting as it sounds, I really don't think I'm cut out for this whole skiing thing."

She pouted her lower lip; all the spectators grimaced. "Aww! Come on! If you don't ski you'll be in here all day doing nothing, and I know you didn't bring a swimsuit, so you'll be here all day alone!"

He shrugged. "I've survived before-"

"Pleeease?" She begged, taking his hand with a pleading look.

He looked her up and down with mild confusion. He'd actually just mentally crumbled, actually just told himself, "Well, it could be fun. Besides, what's the worst that could happen on a beginner's hill?"

He shook his head briskly. "I dunno-"

"Oh, you are not going to make me pull out the heavy artillery!" She warned, eyes glinting.

He scoffed. "And what would that be?"

It was a tennis match; all three of the Americans' heads volleyed back and forth, showing they're adamant attention to the ensuing conversation.

"I am so not paying my fees ever again!" She turned her nose up, suppressing a smile as Mike's jaw dropped.

"Ah, that's not fair!" He whined, slipping off the couch to sit next to her on the floor.

She turned back, giving him only a slightly seductive stare. "Then do me a little favor and just TRY it, please?"

Grumbling, he nodded. Amir had to contain his laughter as Gemma's face lit up and she kissed him square on the mouth before standing up and dancing a little bit. Mike shook his head and stood up.

"I'll be back in a few, gonna need to change-" He started but Gemma had grabbed his shoulders again and he was at a loss for words as she kissed him, his mind a blissful blank, floating somewhere on Cloud Nine.

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So he sat, at the top of the hill, feet crossed under him with the heavy plastic boots. Gemma was pulling on a pair of tattered sneakers with treaded rubber soles, ignoring him as he nervously looked down the beginner's hill. There were two pairs of skis, so what was the big deal with the shoes? She seemed to know what she was doing, however, and continued to pull on her jeans, neglecting to wear any waterproof clothing other than her coat and gloves. Mike pulled on his own winter wear, wondering if it would get wet soon enough for him to go in. Certainly wasn't cold, so what other defense did he have? Finally Gemma finished adjusting the high top sneakers, walking over to the skis all jumbled up sideways where there were small kids on tethers flying past the couple. There were a few older couples skiing, feet thrown out every once and a while as the second partner grimaced, not quite able to vocalize what the other had done wrong.

"C'mere," she said suddenly, setting the skis sideways. Mike stood up and fought the urge to roll his eyes as Gemma stood, feet buried in snow, over his skis. She proceeded to show him how to lock and unlock the bindings on his skis, showing him how to take them off without hurting himself, and finally letting him lock in and tell her if the boot fit. He nodded, trying his best to act bored as she ran through the checklist.

She smiled at him. "Alright, this is it then. One run before I'm not here with you, holding your hand-"

"What do you mean? Can you go down with me?" He was curious.

Gemma shrugged, looking to and fro urgently. "We'll only make one run before we get in trouble, but yeah, I can go down at the same time as you without going on my own skis." She pulled up her jeans. "Sneakers aren't good boots anyway."

"Alright, skipping poles for run one. Stand sideways and make sure you're leaning on the edge of both skis that is pointing up the hill." He did as he was told and waited patiently. With a teacher's grace she stepped up in front of him and stood on the fronts of his skis, sneakers resting on the bindings in front of his feet. She took his hands in hers and smiled, leaning for him. His eyes locked onto hers instantly, afraid with who would look for what. She bent slightly so he could see over her head.

"Left," she said, amused slightly. He leaned with her, pressing on the inner edge of his right ski, feeling her start to ease on the left one, pointing it to the left. He followed her every move as she traversed, keeping a close look on where they were going, making sure she wasn't going to lead them into a gully or a tree. She taught him how to stop next, showing him the "Kiddie Stop" and the "Hockey Stop." The first one was a bit ridiculous feeling, having to spread the backs of the skis nearly into a line to stop if one was going fast, but the second was near impossible to keep the balance on, especially with two people on one set of skis. The hockey stop nearly made them fall flat on their faces the first and second time, but by their third try, they actually succeeded in making a perfect stop.

"Hey, this is easy!" He shouted over the roar of snow-machines.

Gemma nodded, laughing. "Of course it is! Now, let's have a little fun!" She turned sharply, almost jerking his feet for him, her sneakers gripping on the surface of the skis and taking control from Mike. With expert precision she turned them around so she was looking down the hill and Mike was going down backwards. He leaned into her, grabbed her around the waist as they started to tip. She spun them back around in the nick of time, laughing as Mike still held her round the waist tightly. He picked her up and pointed her down the hill with him, nearly falling over in the process. This was the last leg of the easy hill, the ski instructors would no doubt see them heading down like this. Gemma tilted his feet for him and "bombed" the rest of the kiddie hill, rushing past kids and adults alike, generating somewhat of a flurry when they skidded to a stop at the bottom of the chair lift, smiling as Gemma leapt off the skis to reveal another person. Instead of bothering with rules on how to move without poles, Gemma pulled Mike along and they got back on the chair lift. At the top, she jumped off and slid down the mound to avoid being stuck on the actual lift, holding onto Mike's hand so he wouldn't fall and create turmoil for other skiers.

"Round two!" She shouted, pulling her boots on and almost in a mocking manner stepping into her own bindings and picking up her poles. She jerked a pair of sunglasses on over her eyes and tilted down the hill, taking it slow at first. Mike followed, perhaps slower than he would have liked, but he didn't fall but once, and it had been under mysterious circumstances.

For whatever reason, Gemma had suddenly stopped, hunching over to help someone get up from a particularly nasty spill. The person insisted they didn't need help before slipping off down the hill, riding on the back of their own skis. Before Gemma could tell Mike to stop, another person ripped by and knocked him into her, barely stopping in time. It was a ridiculous fall; Gemma had started to tip, so Michael had tried to catch her, but only managed to have himself pulled down as well. As they laughed and scrambled around to get up, many people came by, casting more raised brow glances at the couple, one with jeans and a pair of sneakers over her shoulder, the other cursing loudly and trying to figure out which leg was his and which one wasn't.

Soaked and happy, they walked back to the house and stepped inside, talking animatedly about the afternoon's adventure. Amir was lying on the couch, an ice pack on his upper leg with his trademark glasses missing. He was injured, however badly Gemma didn't know.

"Aww, what happened?" Gemma asked, discarding her coat and accessories to sit by Amir's side while Mike limped over to the kitchen counter, making faces at his now aching legs.

Amir opened his eyes and flashed his bright smile. "I was trying to do a helicopter but I landed on a tree stump. Just bruised, I think."

Gemma grimaced. "Did you just brush the stump or land ON it?"

"Just scraped it going over," he replied, raising his eyebrows. "You a nurse or what?"

"I'm a paramedic; mind if I take a look? Just to make sure it's not broken." She carefully removed the ice pack as he nodded, teeth gritting in mild pain. She tried to avoid running her hand over the nasty bruise that had developed over on the right side of his upper right leg, but in order to determine a break, it was the best place. She pressed on the bruise and recoiled to feel a grinding sensation. It was either a floating bone break, or he had torn a ligament in his thigh. By asking him to lift his leg, which he did without even a grimace, she determined that lowering it would be the problem, therefore it was just a torn ligament; much better than a broken femur.

She sighed, handing him the ice pack. "Well, you've got a torn ligament, which means no more skiing for at least a week. I'll go to the medic's tent and get you some crutches to move around. If you're lucky it'll clear up before you have to leave." She shook a finger at him.

Amir smiled. "Alright, thanks Gemma."

She dismissed his gratitude with a snort before pulling on her coat and sneakers again, starting to leave to fetch him some crutches. Mike caught her arm.

He made sure he had both her arms in his grasp and his legs were out of reach before saying, "Hey, thanks for teaching me all that today. Most ignorant student award not as studious as I thought," he quipped, smiling as Gemma uncomfortably strained against his grip. She lolled her head back, a blush on her face.

"Don't mention it, really." She smiled. They leaned in for a quick kiss before Caroline and Rich burst in, goggles and all. Gemma and Mike broke apart, Gemma leaving quickly to get Amir the crutches, and Mike to stand there helplessly while Caroline made faces at him.

When Gemma returned, Amir was shuffling around the kitchen, the ice pack strapped to his leg. She nearly exploded at this discovery, handing him the crutches with almost contempt, but Amir had taken them from her gratefully and then stopped his painful limping and started jetting around the house, only having some difficulty at the stairs. Rich and Caroline had left to go eat out, so Gemma, Mike, and Amir were left to fend for themselves for dinner. It was a little early, but Gemma was sure she'd find something she could make in time for supper.

In fact, she could have made almost anything with the amount of food around the house. Running out only to buy a few things, she returned, a smug grin on her face. Amir lifted his eyebrows at her face as she put a twelve-pack of beer on the table in did a small dance.

"What's with the smirk?" Amir asked as Mike entered the room, also eyeing Gemma with a concerned glance.

She did another little dance before stopping and proclaiming, "The clerk had me show him my ID, isn't that great?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "Because you definitely look over thirty, Gemma, honestly."

She pouted her lower lip a bit. "Well, I'm getting closer and closer to thirty-"

"You've only been allowed to drink for what? Three years?" Amir asked, squinting.

"Fine, say what you want, but I've been able to get drinks in a bar for my little sixteen year old friends since I was thirteen, all because I look older than I am. So for me not to look thirty is kind of a thrill." She replied, lifting her hands to show defeat as she unloaded the single brown paper bag.

Mike snorted playfully sitting across the counter from her. "You look eighteen right now. You don't act like it though, you act thirty. That's where twenty-four comes in, and lucky you, it's right where it needs to be."

She scoffed, also fooling around. "Says Mister 'I Feel Eight Years Old.'"

Amir laughed. "Feel a bit inadequate, Mikey?"

Mike blushed but glared at Amir heatedly; Gemma had dropped a small bag of cilantro. "Actually, I wouldn't know." He said calmly, pretending he didn't notice Amir's embarrassed look.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I really should learn how to keep my big mouth shut, eh?" He asked.

Gemma pulled two avocados from the bag and shrugged, cutting the very ripe vegetables in half and scooping out the innards. For the next ten minutes, Amir and Mike only watched a kitchen master work. She mashed the avocados to a pulp, added diced tomato, onion, a bit of jalapeno pepper, fresh pressed garlic, garlic salt, minced dried onion, and cilantro. She mixed it all up and put it in the refrigerator to blend the flavors together.

"Guacamole shall be ready in about an hour," she announced, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

Mike stretched his shoulders slowly, a smile coming over his face. "Nap time until then, says Mike."

"I'll take you up on that," Gemma replied, walking over to the huge leather couch. It was big enough to seat about six people, but wide enough for about one and a half. Or two people on their sides. Gemma watched as Mike slowly laid out on the couch, nestling his head on a soft pillow and taking a huge breath, his arms flat on his sides, or up under the pillow. Gemma sat next to him for a moment before she shrugged at the smiling Amir and curled up in front of Mike, hearing him grunt in surprise before he looped an arm around her waist sleepily, falling back into the black that enveloped his mind.

It wasn't for several hours either of the two stirred, and that was enough time for Rich and Caroline to dig out their old Polaroid camera and start taking pictures of the couple sleeping on the couch. They were always the sort to tease and have fun with other people, but these two were almost unreachable. They decided to make a little memoir page of their cutesy moments and hand it to them before they left, maybe on stage in the restaurant? Instead of discussing it, they just did it for the day, smiling wickedly as Gemma stirred in her sleep, her leg slipping between Mike's lazily. Rich snapped a second photo, Caroline carefully cropping the first one.

Amir walked in, his crutches clicking on the wood floor. "Hey, what gives?"

"These two are so unreachable when it comes to our jokes we decided to do this!" Caroline held up the photos proudly. Amir made a face and collapsed into a small armchair next to the two sleeping parties. Rich snickered and leaned forward, reaching for Mike's hand, starting to move it towards Gemma's chest...

"WOW IS IT COLD OUT THERE!" Amir shouted suddenly, Gemma and Mike snapping awake instantly, both sitting up with red faces as Rich and Caroline scrambled to hide the camera and pictures. Gemma's legs snapped together like a church-goer's, hands folded on her lap, Mike mirroring her pose with flaming cheeks.

"Ahem, I'm going to go get the uh, dinner thing." She said, coughing again.

Mike nodded furiously, standing up and offering her his hand. "Er, yeah-I uh-"

Amir rolled his eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong, for Christ's sake!"

As if defying everyone's expectations was the object of that rant, Mike bent and lifted Gemma clear off her feet like she was a helpless damsel. She squealed as he carried her over to the kitchen and set her down, his fingers giving her a quick pinch in the side before he pulled a stool up to the counter and sat, smiling as Gemma bent and kissed his cheek playfully.

He reached up and jerked her braid down so he could prolong the kiss, though a loud snap and flash distracted them immediately. Amir was shaking a fist at Rich and Caroline, who were hunched over a camera together, holding four pictures of Mike and Gemma, hording them like they were precious gems.

Gemma cocked an eyebrow at the couple in the entryway before taking a lid off of a plastic container and opening a bag of tortilla chips, offering the goods to Mike, who curiously began to nibble at the food. It was good, though Mike wasn't sure what he expected. Gemma always seemed to have at least fifty good recipes at hand with any amount of food, and she had all the recipes locked up in her mind, ready for the taking. Most of the time she had to convert the recipes anyway, which was always fun to watch. She sort of spaced out, eyes wide, lips moving with silent calculation, fingers twisting into her hair as if this was a game show she was to win. Mike could only shake his head and stare.

The next two days were uneventful. There was a huge ice storm that shut down four of the six lifts, making the two that were running a living hell to occupy. It was like anchovies in a tin getting onto the four person lift, sometimes five trying to worm on, sometimes just one person going up, which only managed to piss off everyone waiting patiently. One run and Gemma had turned in, taking a bathing suit and a towel out of her suitcase and searching for Caroline.

She knocked on Caroline's door, grimacing as the door opened to reveal Rich fast asleep on the bed, his head buried under a pillow, bare back barely covered by an sheets. Caroline stepped out, her face alert.

"Hm?"

"Care to help a chick go swimming?"

Caroline smiled uncertainly. "Help you?"

"You know, a swim buddy. I can swim, I'm not going alone though." She replied, leaning on the wall behind her.

Her friend scrunched her nose playfully. "You could take Mike,"

Gemma laughed. "Three reasons why NOT to take Michael: One, he didn't bring anything to wear underwater; two, he probably wouldn't go with me alone because of you and Rich with your camera; and three...well, let's face it, I haven't seen the man shirtless, and he hasn't seen me in anything more revealing than a t-shirt..."

Caroline squealed excitedly. "Oh! You have to make him go with you! I'll get Rich and Amir to come, you just have to get him to come!"

"Did you not hear me?" Gemma frowned.

"He can borrow one of Rich's suits, you just have to pull more puppy-dog faces on him and he'll go, come on!" She whined, anxiously jumping up and down.

Gemma sighed and shuffled her feet. "I'm no expert at the flirting thing, Caroline. I can't just walk down there and sit on his lap, or give-"

"Yes you could, and that'd probably do it." Caroline interrupted, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

She shook her head furiously. "No and no!"

Caroline placed her hands on her hips knowingly. "You want him to go or not?"

"Well, I don't have to do that!" Gemma argued.

Amir and Mike walked up the steps together, laughing softly but they caught sight of Gemma and Caroline standing together, staring heatedly.

Mike could tell it was about either he or Amir just from the silence that met them as soon as they sauntered into view. "Hey," he started nervously, "what's going on?"

Pointedly taking Amir's arm, Caroline exited arm in arm with him, the limp nearly gone on his part.

Mike crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at Gemma, who was staring nervously at her feet. "Gemma,"

She looked up. "Whaaat?"

"What's going on? You're actin' mighty strange." He cocked his head reproachfully.

Gemma shuffled her feet and shrugged, acting much like a little kid. "Caroline wants me to do something that I don't wanna do but she wants me to do it so you'll do something for me. Unfortunately, this thing she wants me to do is rather-"

"Hold the phone!" Mike interrupted her auctioneer style mile-a-minute chatter. "What is it she wants you to do to me?"

"That's not the part that concerns YOU, trust me." She spat back, her eyes glittering. "I want you to come with us to the pool."

He scoffed, laughing slightly. "Right, I'll just go naked shall I?"

She made a face at him before continuing. "Apparently Rich has a plethora of stuff you can wear to the pool, so you're not getting out of this that easy."

"Well, then, why wouldn't I go?" He retorted, lifting an eyebrow nervously.

Gemma shrugged. "You haven't seen MY swimsuit, I guess." She teased. Mike lifted his eyebrows in unison this time, alarmed to hear his own breath begin to hitch and his heart start racing. What the hell am I expecting? he asked himself, trying to laugh it off. Gemma rolled her eyes as his face went slack and all expression dropped off, leaving him with a blank stare and a hungry look in his eye, but that went unnoticed between them.

It was a challenge to be met. Rich was the hardest to convince, but given fifteen minutes alone with a bitching and moaning Caroline and a red-faced Rich emerged with his hand in Caroline's grasp, her face happy and triumphant. The five house-mates left together, though Amir had said quite strictly that he was probably just going to sit by the sidelines. Mike had offered to keep him company, starting to regret his decision to throw himself in the chlorine reeking pool, but Gemma had given him such a strict look he had mumbled something about "for a bit" before walking off to borrow his swimwear from Rich.

The walk over to the lodge was full of chatter, strange for the usual silent transports.

"What's your last name, Amir?" Gemma asked, cocking her head curiously.

Amir laughed. "Jones,"

"No way!" Mike replied, looking Amir over again. For some reason he'd expected Shankar or some other Indian-sounding name, but instead it was almost the most common American last name ever.

Amir shrugged. "It was Laruk but I was adopted when I was six."

Nodding with more understanding, Gemma replied, "That makes more sense."

"Well, what's yours? I'm going to guess it's either Johnson or...Davey?" Caroline wrinkled her nose.

Gemma pointed to her exuberantly. "Close! See, my friend Meredith Marsh's maiden name is Davey, isn't that weird? People think we're sisters, so I get that from people that know Meredith all the time. Actually, I'm Gemma Thompson."

Rich snorted. "I'm Richard O'Reilly."

Caroline slapped him. "That's not bad! Why do you hate it so much?"

Her boyfriend yanked on his hair, irritated. "You realize what that means? Irish Catholic family!" He laughed lightly. "I'm going to have fifty kids, at least."

Caroline made a face, but said nothing.

Feeling sort of out of place, feeling very ordinary, Mike kept his mouth shut.

He tried, until Amir turned to him and asked, "So, what's your last name? Pauling was it?"

"Palin," he replied, sulking slightly.

Gemma, clear on the other side of the five-wide group, stopped and trudged behind the group, walking up to Mike's side and giving him a soft stare. He forced a smile and looked at her, wondering if she was going to ask him anything. He was lucky, for Gemma had read the dislike on his face as her jaw opened and clipped her teeth together, turning her face away quietly. She smiled as he slipped his hand into hers to show he wasn't angry with her, so she was pleased for now. The only obstacle left was a somewhat amusing one. Drama in my life, Gemma mused, getting my boyfriend to take his shirt off.

She couldn't help but act like a fool and burst out into heavy laughter upon thinking this, leaning into Mike's side for support as they walked through the doors to the changing lockers.