X-TREME! [simon, open]

Skiing! Isabelle loved skiing; it was naturally in her blood at birth, being a rich girl. She loved the snow, loved moving fast through it, and loved darting in and out of the trees expertly. It was a shame snowboarding was the popular sport in her age group nowadays. Of course, she COULD snowboard, but she couldn't exactly hit up a double diamond and come out with an intact sternum...

With her snowboard tucked under her arm, Isabelle trudged towards the lift with her chunky glasses up on her forehead, wavy brown locks underneath her knit cap and chunky boots clunking as she made her way towards the ski lift. It was nearly two, and she'd made an arrangement with Simon and some of their friends to have a little snowboarding session for an hour or two before catching some early dinner.

Strapping her snowboard onto her foot, Isabelle stood near the entrance to the lifts, hands on her hips as she looked out over the crowd of unfamiliar, and some familiar, faces for Simon or a member of their group. Underneath her free foot the snow crunched slightly, the sound inviting to Isabelle's frigid ears, making her smile a little.

One would think being a normal, red-blooded male teenager would mean being interested in all sorts of extreme sports, if only as an excuse to show off. One would also think that anyone who had gone on the annual Harriman winter ski trip for the past three years would at least be somewhat proficient at skiing or snowboarding. So of course, one would take a look at Zachary Quentin Peters - painter, sculptor, occasional theatre geek, amateur soccer player and resident hair-obsessor - and automatically assume he fit nicely into both categories. And of course, one would be entirely, unmistakeably wrong. Zach Peters, contrary to popular (though he had no idea who would be foolish enough to think so, considering how he was from Miami, land of the sun, palm trees and CSI: Miami) opinion, did not ski or snowboard. At all.

And by did not, he meant 'always tried in all earnestness, but always ended up failing and crashing into the snow in a tangle of arms, legs, and skis/snowboard'.

Still like he said, he always tried, and his fourth time at Sugarloaf Resort's slopes would be no different. He had been invited to snowboard, and snowboard he would, despite the hazard to his health. All he'd need to do was stay far away from trees, really. That way he could just whoosh straight down and hope to high heaven nothing else would require his attempting a turn, or a jump, or whatever move that would spell his doom. Cheerfully humming a little ditty under his breath, Zach stomped ungracefully through the thick snow towards the ski lifts, a plain black rental snowboard under his right arm and rental snow goggles swinging casually from his left hand. He was feeling remarkably positive today, despite knowing he would return from the afternoon's adventure more than a little bruised and sore. Maybe it was a good omen.

Spotting Isabelle standing by the lifts entrance, Zach hesitated only briefly before moving towards her, lifting his free arm up in a wave. "Hey there pretty lady, where's the party?" The silly greeting popped out of his mouth out of habit when he was within hearing distance, accompanied by a waggling of his eyebrows and his usual close-lipped smile. Resting his board carefully against the nearest surface, he ran a hand briefly through his newly short-cropped hair before reluctantly tugging on the rental glasses, being extra particular about not messing up his hair. Once done, Zach turned expectantly to Izz again. "How's my hair look?" he asked in all seriousness, before adding as an afterthought, "Where are the rest?"

At the call of 'hey there, pretty laday' Isabelle looked up from playing with her jacket zipper (after all, who ELSE would they be talking to?) and couldn't help but spread a wide, warm smile over her face at the sight of her long-term love/nemesis Zach Peters. She was too thrilled to have one of her chronically tardy friends show up that she wasn't even upset it was Zach- on the contrary, she was practically enthused.

"Hey!" she said in probably the most exuberant tone she'd ever used while greeting him, "you're the first, actually... I told Si- I mean, the others, to meet about five minutes ago, but nobody's shown yet."

For reasons she could neither explain nor fathom, Isabelle had censored herself as she'd began to say 'Simon and The Others'. Explaining to herself that it was probably just a catch in her throat that had caused this bizarre and peculiar reaction, she managed to shake her head and ignore the fact that it was more likely than not because she still harbored intense feelings for one Zachary Peter, despite her better judgment or even her sincerest wishes.

Checking her watch once more, Isabelle sighed, turning her big blue eyes towards the lift entrance before throwing her arms up in indignation. "You know what?" She declared in resignation, "they can just meet us up on the slope, I'm tired of waiting... let's go."

With a smile Isabelle looped her arm through Zach's, leading him to the mouth of the lift and waiting for him to strap on his snowboard before gliding alongside him onto the lift. It was only the two of them, and as they lifted higher and higher into the air the scenery got only more and more beautiful. "Wow..." she said with a grin, even though she saw it every year, "it's been a while, I almost forgot how beautiful it was..."

The ride up to the medium-level slope wasn't too terribly long, and Isabelle barely had time for that nerve wracking feeling in the pit of her stomach to appear before she was gliding off of the lift once more with Zach at her side, looking around for a place to start.

"Shall we?" She led the way, pushing herself along on the board like it was a skateboard until they were at the top of the hill. Never really secure on a snowboard, Izz got that familiar pit of nerves in her stomach, shaking them off with a weak smile, her hands trembling in her gigantic snow gloves. How ironic- it wasn't like she was the chronically klutzy one here... "Alrighty, let's go then... one... two... three!"

On three she pushed off, gliding down the mountain. As the wind pushed past her hair she grinned broadly, though she had to focus far intently on where she was going and her level of control rather than when she was at home on skis. While the wind on her face was exhilarating, the uncomfortable, out of control feeling around her feet was not, and she gritted her teeth as she raced down the slope. Why was she always convinced into snowboarding? She didn't like snowboarding. She wasn't as good at snowboarding. Surely she could ski alongside them, and still be part of the group?

Isabelle's thoughts were interrupted by the very sudden and inconvenient appearance of a tree directly in her path. She attempted to swerve, but to no avail, and violently she crashed into the massive tree, the tree winning against her fragile leg. Screaming in pain, Izz lay nearly prone on the ground, sobbing against the snow and trying not to look her horrifically injured leg. "Zach!" she called out pathetically, ripping off her glasses and her hat in the process, doing her best not to sob, her dark hair getting wet with snow. "Zach! Oh god, Zach, somebody, help!"