Falls Creek Lessons

Chapter 8

The next morning, I was awoken by the sound of a herd of elephants square-dancing to a steel drum band that badly needed to develop some musical talent.

Rolling my head to the side — lifting it would have taken too much energy — I saw Dan and Kelly, dressed for another day’s work, making themselves breakfast.

Letting out a low groan that reverberated though my skull like a scream in an echo chamber, I closed my eyes again. This is what I get for over-indulging the night before, and not taking any precautions against a hangover.

“I think the porn star partied too hard last night,” Kelly screamed. At least that’s what it felt like, though the slightly sympathetic tone meant she was probably speaking softly to Dan.

“He had a good time, and now he’s paying the price,” Dan confirmed, way too loudly.

“Shut up, please?” I pleaded in a whisper that was probably heard a mile away.

I heard a loud pair of chuckles, and then some furious banging of cupboard doors. I don’t think they appreciated my delicate state. I felt a sudden surge of sympathy for Garret, who also had to put up with this pair of sadists.

“Here, Greg. Drink this. It’ll help, believe me,” Dan’s voice trumpeted from next to me.

I opened my eyes to see Dan standing there with a cup of something held out to me. I tried to lift myself up so I could drink it, but even that amount of effort was beyond me. Dan, seeing my plight, reached down and put his arm behind my back. As he pulled me upright, I suddenly felt nauseous.

“I think I’m going to spew,” I said weakly.

Dan grabbed a bucket that some thoughtful person must have placed next to the bed last night, and helped me lean my face over it. That movement was enough for me to empty my stomach.

The headache was still roaring along happily, but my stomach felt a lot more comfortable after that. My mouth tasted disgusting, of course, but overall it was an improvement, even if only a small one.

“I need to wash my mouth,” I managed to force out.

“Okay, Greg. I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

Dan half-carried me to the sink where I rinsed my mouth out. I could still smell the odour of stale beer, and it was only when I glanced down that I noticed I was still wearing my clothes from last night. The smell was coming from them, and it was making me nauseous again.

After gulping down the drink that Dan offered me again, I started to pull off my clothes. A few of the buttons gave me trouble, as my hands were shaking, and I ended up ripping them off. As I started to undo my pants, I glanced up to see Dan leaving and closing the door behind him.

“Ahhhh… And I thought I’d finally get to see the real Greg, in the flesh, so to speak,” I heard Kelly say through the door.

“Somehow, I don’t think he’s really there, yet,” Dan remarked. “Maybe after he’s had a shower.”

“Good! I’ll look forward to that,” Kelly responded enthusiastically.

I stood there for a few seconds, before my brain kicked into gear enough for me to reach over and lock the door. I then finished stripping and stepped into the shower. I didn’t really want Kelly coming in to take a peek.

After spending an indeterminate amount of time with warm water running over me, I turned off the shower and stepped out. I was beginning to feel alive, or at least only slightly dead. After I dried myself, I realised I had a problem.

I didn’t have a change of clothes with me.

I reached down to pick up my discarded clothes, thinking I could put on enough for modesty’s sake, but the aroma made my stomach queasy and I stepped away from them. With no other choice, I wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door.

Not surprisingly, Kelly gave me a wolf whistle as soon as she spotted me.

“Looking good, Greg!” she called out. “You’ve only got the towel to lose.”

I elected to ignore her. I certainly wasn’t up to sparring verbally.

Holding onto my towel tightly with my left hand, I searched through my bags for some fresh clothes.

“You know, I think I’ll have another shower,” Kelly remarked.

I looked up at that strange comment, to find her staring at me with an evil grin.

“I’m going to need that towel, Greg,” she threatened, holding out her hand.

I tighten my grip on the towel. I wasn’t going to let the only thing I was wearing be taken off me.

She started to advance menacingly, when Dan piped up from the kitchen where he was seated drinking a cup of coffee.

“Leave him alone, Kelly,” he said, clearly amused. “You’ve had your fun, now let him get dressed in peace.”

“Of course he can get dressed in peace,” Kelly retorted. “All I want is the towel.”

“Leave him alone, Kelly,” Dan repeated, but with a bit of an edge this time.

“You two are no fun,” Kelly grumbled, as she turned back to the kitchen and picked up the drink she’d left there. “I only wanted to look.”

Taking the opportunity that I’d been given, I grabbed some clothes and retreated to the bathroom. I wasn’t fussed about which clothes I’d grabbed, as I could always get changed again after Kelly had left for work.

When I came out of the bathroom, Dan had a cup of strong, black coffee waiting for me. I gave him a grunt of appreciation, which he took in the spirit with which it was intended.

“You need to get out into the fresh air, Greg,” he stated. “Don’t forget, we have another night of drinking coming up.”

I looked up and snarled, “Don’t remind me!”

“You’ll be fine by then,” he said, soothingly. “A day of skiing will put the body back into order.”

“It’s not the body that needs to be fixed,” I replied with a groan. “It’s my head that’s killing me.”

“The body definitely does not need fixing,” Kelly piped up from where she was putting on her jacket, ready to go out. “Your problem is that you wear too many clothes.”

“Kelly, you’ve got a one track mind,” Dan remarked.

“And you don’t?” Kelly asked sarcastically.

Dan blushed, which I thought was an interesting response. If I was more alive, I would’ve asked him why, but at that particular instant in time, the coffee in front of me was of more importance.

Kelly left then, and Dan disappeared shortly after. I checked my watch, but I still had sometime before I needed to head out, assuming I was going to make it that far.

“You know, Greg, Dan’s right,” a voice mentioned from behind me.

As I turned around, Garret continued. “Getting outside will help clear the head. It’ll make you feel a lot better.” Giving me a grin, he added, “I can confirm that from personal experience.”

He pulled himself more upright in his bed, wincing, but that was more than he was capable of doing the day before.

“You’re looking better than I’m feeling,” I muttered in his direction as I carried my coffee carefully over to Dan’s bed, where I sat down. That way I could talk to Garret without raising my voice above the pain threshold.

“Every good time has its price,” Garret replied cheerfully before scowling and looking away. It was easy to guess what price he was thinking of.

“Do you know a good hangover cure?” I asked, hopeful that someone in this world is capable of miracles.

“Once you’ve got it, no,” Garret replied, reverting to an infuriatingly cheerful mood. I’m sure he’s doing it deliberately, just to annoy me. I’m staying in a room full of sadists.

“Everything I know is based on making sure you don’t get one in the first place,” he continued.

I grunted in reply. So much for expecting any help.

“It looks like you had a good time after you left here. Do you remember any of it?”

“I always remember them,” I replied gingerly. “Yeah, it was a good night. It’s only the morning after that I can live without.”

Garret chuckled. “I know what you mean. Lucky for me I rarely drink that much. It affects the performance too much, if you know what I mean,” he finished with a wink.

Dan was right. Garret only thinks about one thing. The way I was feeling, sex was the last thing I wanted to consider. Throwing up again was higher in the list of things I was likely to do.

I shouldn’t have thought of that, as I found myself rising quickly to my feet, staggering as I suddenly felt light-headed from getting up too fast, and rushing to the toilet. I managed to make it, before losing whatever was left in my stomach.

I emerged feeling a little better. I needed something to eat to settle things down, but I had to be careful. I decided a single slice of toast was the best thing.

Garret was mercifully quiet while I prepared myself something to eat. I could see him watching me, but as there was nothing else to look at in the room, I didn’t think much of it. After a couple of bites, I finally remembered my manners.

“Can I make you something, Garret?” I asked. “It had better be easy, though, or it might not be edible.”

“Toast and OJ will be fine, Greg,” he replied gratefully, “Thanks for that. I was just trying to work out if I was capable of getting up to do it myself.”

I put some bread in the toaster and poured him an orange juice. I noticed that my hands were still shaking while I did that, but they seemed to be improving. I took the OJ over to him, and then returned for his toast. It was easier for me to make two trips than to try the delicate balancing trick of a plate in hand and a glass in the other.

We ate our breakfasts in silence. By the time I finished mine, I was beginning to feel almost sociable.

“Ah, Greg?” Garret called out cautiously. “Do you think you can give me a hand getting up?”

I looked at him blankly, trying to work out what he was asking, when I saw him squirm and his eyes flick in the direction of the toilet.

“Sure, Garret,” I responded as I got up and walked slowly over to him, “but I’m not steady on my feet, either.”

I managed to get him upright. He seemed more able to support his own weight this time. Without prompting, I took him over to the toilet. I noticed that he was wearing briefs, but it was of only passing academic interest — that part of my brain was still very much shut down.

“There you are,” I stated, as he lowered himself down onto the seat. “You’re on your own, now. I hope you won’t need your bum wiped, because I think that would make me throw up again.”

“I’ll be fine, Greg, and I only need to take a piss. I’ll call you when I’ve finished,” Garret replied, blushing, but clearly appreciative of the help.

I left him alone and started to sort out what I was going to wear. A quick glance outside showed that it was still overcast, but the visibility was a lot better and it had stopped snowing.

Before long, Garret opened the door and stood, holding onto the door frame. He had a triumphant smile on his face, despite the pain he still felt.

“I don’t think I’m going to need any more help, at least in this way,” he announced. “But I wouldn’t mind a bit of help the rest of the way to my bed,” he added, hopefully.

I gave him a weak grin. One of us, at least, was on the improve. I came over and helped him to his bed. There were drops of perspiration on his forehead by the time we got there, but he managed to do it with only minimal support from me. Another day, and he may be ready to be up and about, as long as he was cautious.

Soon afterwards, I was sitting on the Eagle chairlift, being carried towards the top of the mountain. The wind was only gentle; refreshing, rather than chilling. My head was slowly clearing, but I didn’t think I’d be skiing at my best, that day. I couldn’t help smiling, despite the throbbing headache, because this was still the best holiday I’ve ever had. New friends — I included Chris and Paul in that category — and good times were combining almost perfectly. I was halfway through my ski-trip and I was having an absolute ball!

Arriving at the top, I did one warm-up run down the Playground and found that I wasn’t as unsteady as I’d feared. The trip up and the skiing down were slowly clearing my head.

Rather than doing another run, I headed over to Cloud Nine to get ready for my lesson. I was thinking of taking off my skis and just sitting in the snow for the remaining time before Russ showed up. The crisp, clear air was slowly invigorating my abused body and brain.

I was surprised to spot Chris and Paul standing by the marshalling point for my lesson.

“Hi, guys! What’s up?” I asked as I stopped next to them, wincing slightly from speaking too loudly.

“After the amount of beer you drank, we thought we’d check how you were,” Chris explained.

I shrugged. “Apart from a head that feels like it’s about to split in two, not too bad. The fresh air is helping.”

“You got back okay, last night?” Paul asked.

“Yeah, not a problem. Dan had to almost carry me back to the room, but we got there in the end,” I answered. With a short laugh, I added, “I’m not sure if he was impressed or not by the way I collapsed onto his bed when we got there.”

“His bed?” Paul asked, surprised.

“I wasn’t really able to climb up to the top bunk, so I slept on his bed for the night. I just fell onto it and was out like a light.”

Paul glanced across at Chris, who asked me, “Where did Dan sleep, then?”

“My bed. He was smart — he got undressed before he went to bed. I woke up still wearing the same clothes, and they stunk of stale beer.”

Chris grinned before flicking a smile towards his boyfriend. “I’ve woken up in that state a few times myself. Paul would’ve been the same this morning, if I wasn’t there to clean him up last night.”

Paul went red and looked away. I don’t think he was feeling any better than I was.

“I could’ve done with someone like that, last night,” I admitted. “The smell was almost enough to make me throw up again.”

“I’m surprised that you managed to get up in time for your lesson,” Paul said. “I almost didn’t make it up this morning, and you’d had more to drink than I had.”

“I thought about missing it,” I replied, “but I was already awake and everyone was telling me that the fresh air would help.” I shrugged, “So, here I am.”

After that, there was a pause, as if no one had anything to add.

“We’re going to meet up for lunch, as usual?” I asked.

Chris and Paul exchanged looks. When Chris crossed his arms and kept staring, Paul looked away, clearly uneasy about something.

“Yeah,” Paul said with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “That’ll be good.”

“If you’d prefer to have a lunch by yourselves, that’s fine too. You’re not leaving until tomorrow, after all,” I offered. It looked to me that Paul didn’t really want to go back to the village for lunch. I could understand that. After all, the round trip cuts into their skiing time. It might even be that they want to spend one lunch with just the two of them. I sometimes forget that they’re a couple and will occasionally want to do couple things, without me hanging around.

“No, Greg. That’s alright. We’d love to be there,” Chris replied, still staring at Paul. By his tone, he was angry about something, and Paul was the target. Paul knew it, too, and was acting very sheepish. I wondered if Chris thought Paul had made a fool of himself last night. I didn’t think so, but if he did, we must have been fools together, because there wasn’t anything that Paul did, once we were drunk, that I didn’t join in on.

Mentally shrugging, I dropped the subject. It must be something that happened after I left, in which case I didn’t want to know about it. What goes on in their bedroom was their business, not mine.

Chris and Paul left soon afterwards. I waited for Russ to show up, and whichever of my classmates were able to get out of bed. As it turned out, besides Rachel and Owen, who seemed to be really keen to learn, Yanni managed to make it, too. This time he seemed a little bit more open. He apologised for not showing up for the last lesson, but the people he was with hadn’t wanted to go out, and he hadn’t been confident on getting here by himself.

The lesson was quite an eye-opener. Russ took us over to the Ruined Castle area. It was the steepest run we’d been on so far, but it was also the widest and the longest. I could see why the others enjoyed skiing around there, because there was enough room to do whatever you wanted.

Russ had us practice some balancing exercises as we traversed the slope, and then lift the top ski before putting it down and starting the turn. It was after the second time we did it that I suddenly realised that this is what Rob had been trying to teach me when I first started. What he had neglected to do was to include all the basics I needed to know before I got this far. Finding myself doing “Stem Christies” was a real buzz, even if I was pretty bad at them. Now that I knew what I had to do, it was as if a whole new vista had opened up in front of me. Russ explained that as we improved, the stepping out part of the Stem Christies would get smaller and smaller, until we were doing parallel turns. It would take time and practice, but I could now see how to get from where I was to where I wanted to go.

Because of the width of the run, we all had plenty of time to get ready to do the turns. It was going to be some time before we’d be able to turn when we wanted to. For now, we would turn when we finally got ourselves balanced properly, however long that took.

The Ruined Castle chairlift was interesting as well. We would shuffle onto a conveyor belt which moved us forward, while the next chair came around behind us. Russ told us that this meant that the lift could run at a faster speed, and so take more people up the run. We’d be able to see the difference it made when we compared it with the Scott Quad once we went back up the mountain to the top of the Playground.

At the end of the lesson, my headache was still persisting in irritating me, but it was more than cancelled out by the exhilaration that I was feeling. Russ had told us that we might be able to ski Ruined Castle by the end of the week, and we did it on the Tuesday instead! He did admit that he wouldn’t have normally taken us there, but the fresh layer of snow made it much more forgiving that it would normally be. The next lesson, he said, we’d be back at the Towers.

We headed back up the Scott Quad, which was noticeably slower than the Ruined Castle lift. I spotted the clouds beginning to descend again, but the visibility wasn’t too bad, at least for the moment.

I noticed a large bunch of snowboarders off to the left as the lift took us up the mountain. Asking Russ, he told me that there were special sections set up, just for the snowboarders. He mentioned a lot of terms that I didn’t understand, but I got the impression that there were things you could do on a snowboard that you couldn’t do on skis. Of course, it seemed that it worked the other way around, as well.

Paul and Chris were waiting for me outside Cloud Nine. However, they were looking for me to come from the direction of the Towers. Since I was skiing in from the opposite direction, I thought I’d see if I could surprise them.

As I approached, I had another idea. I’m still a beginner, so losing control and running into someone was something I could be expected to do. I grinned. Here was my chance to have a run in with Paul.

Carefully lining myself up, I let the skis take me towards my target. The slope towards Cloud Nine was fairly gentle, so I knew I wouldn’t hit him hard, well at least not in that sense. My goal was to glide into him, and grab him around the chest to stop myself. If we ended up falling to the ground, then that would just be an added bonus.

My fantastic morning continued, with my plan working almost perfectly. The only thing that went wrong was instead of running into his back, he turned to say something to Chris and so I ran into his side. Still, I got to grab him and hold on for several seconds while I struggled to maintain my balance.

“G’day, Greg. Fancy running into you here, or rather, fancy you running into me here,” Paul said with amusement.

“Sorry, guys!” I said with no trace of remorse. “I was trying to sneak up on you and lost control when it was time to stop. Lucky I ran into something solid.”

Chris laughed. “You can let go of him now, Greg,” he said, chuckling. “Get your skis off and we’ll go inside for a drink.”

Paul and I untangled ourselves, while I resisted the temptation to make it more difficult. I’d had my fun, and it was time to play nice again. Despite all my fantasies, Paul had Chris and I didn’t want to risk messing that up, or risk losing their friendship by being too obvious.

“What were you doing, coming from that direction, anyway,” Chris asked me, as I took off my skis.

I grinned as widely as I could. “I’ve been skiing Ruined Castle,” I stated proudly.

Chris’ jaw dropped and when I glanced at Paul, he was similarly amazed.

“Russ said it was only because the conditions were almost perfect, but it was fun!” I explained, though I couldn’t stop smiling.

As we retired to the warmth inside, I described my lesson, and how I had suddenly seen the path in front of me from where I was now, to the neat parallel skiing that I’d seen the experienced skiers using.

When I asked them where they had been skiing, clearly not at Ruined Castle, they mentioned another couple of runs that I’d seen, but hadn’t tried yet: Panorama and Lakeside. They flank the Towers area, and are a similar difficulty to Ruined Castle, but not as wide. They are also usually not as busy.

Chris also implied that they did those runs because Paul didn’t want to ski the Towers, just in case Kelly was working. Chris smiled as he commented that he didn’t understand what the problem was, but Paul’s embarrassed fidgeting made it clear that Chris was just enjoying an opportunity to tease his boyfriend.

We headed down to the village after we finished our drinks. A quick glance at my watch showed we’d be early, but that would give us more time to make sure we had a table before Dan arrived.

I asked if I could lead, and the two guys agreed, though they couldn’t hide the amusement they were feeling. For me, though, it was a serious matter. After Wednesday, they wouldn’t be there to show me the way down to the Frying Pan, and I would need to do it myself. The more practice I got, the safer I would be. I knew I was unlikely to get lost, as all the trails lead back to the village. But if I took the wrong turn, I might have to take the skis off and walk to get back to the Frying Pan, and that was something I didn’t want to do.

It was with a sense of achievement that I spotted the right turn off, and in plenty of time to make an almost graceful turn into the side trail. “Almost graceful” was the polite expression for a sudden twist of the body to force the skis to turn in the desired direction, which almost resulted in me toppling over. However, as I didn’t fall down, I thought it was a success.

We arrived at the Frying Pan in plenty of time. Dan gave us a wave as we went past, so I knew I didn’t have to wait outside for him. It wasn’t as bitter as it had been the day before, but if I could relax inside, it was preferable to waiting out in the weather.

Luck favoured us, as we quickly found a table and settled down. With Dan not due to show up for another ten minutes, at least, we decided to postpone ordering our meals. Instead, we elected to get some drinks.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate,” I said, rising to my feet. “I also think it’s my turn to go get them.”

“I’ll have one, too,” Chris replied, digging out his wallet.

“I’ll have a beer,” Paul stated.

Chris paused at that and gave his boyfriend an unreadable look. Paul just returned it defiantly. I started getting vibes that there was something going on between them. There had been some tension that morning, but when we met up after my lesson it had gone. For whatever reason, it was back again, and with a vengeance.

Nodding reluctantly, Chris pulled out some money and gave it to me. Heading off, I paused after a few steps and glanced back. Chris and Paul had their heads together and were talking quietly, but intensely.

When I came back with the drinks, they had settled back. I don’t think they had resolved their issue, whatever it was, but were more holding an uneasy truce. I felt disturbed by this, as I had pictured them as an almost perfect couple. After the sudden stress that appeared between Rob and my sister the weekend we were up here together, the last thing I wanted to see was a strain in Chris and Paul’s relationship. Rob had hopefully repaired his balls-up by now, but I knew what had caused that one. I had no idea why Chris and Paul were fighting.

We talked about inconsequential things, and I felt the tension ease. But just as I thought it was going to blow over, I saw Paul tense up, as he stared beyond me at something. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Dan approaching.

I now had an idea on the subject that was causing problems, because Chris had alerted me to potential trouble earlier in the week. Why couldn’t Paul understand that Dan wasn’t one of his attackers? That Dan was really a great guy who had nothing to hide?

“Hi, guys,” Dan called out cheerfully as he came up to our table.

“Hi, Dan,” Paul replied flatly. He couldn’t have made it more obvious that he wasn’t happy.

“G’day, Dan,” Chris replied enthusiastically, as if trying to counteract the negativity that Paul had put into his response.

I was silent for a second, as I flicked my eyes between the two guys sitting opposite me. I caught Chris giving Paul a nudge with his elbow, at which Paul painted a false smile onto his face.

I looked up at Dan who was looking a trifle uncertain. He was biting his lower lip as he stared at Paul. I started to rack my brains for something to break the tension, but was failing miserably until Chris piped up.

“Guys, why don’t we all have a drink before lunch? I know I could do with another,” he suggested.

Dan nodded. “That sounds good to me. I’ll get them, if you’ll tell me what you want,” he offered, sounding unsettled.

“No, you sit down,” Chris said. “Greg and I can get them. Paul, you’ll have another beer?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Paul replied absently, his eyes never leaving Dan.

I looked over at Chris in surprise, who gestured for me to get up as he rose to his feet. He indicated to me with a quick glance at Dan and Paul that he wanted to give them a chance to talk, in private. I personally wasn’t sure whether that was a good idea or not — Paul didn’t look like he was in a mood to chat — but I also had the impression that Chris knew what was going on. I decided to take his lead, so I got up from the table.

“I’ll have a strong, black coffee with two sugars,” Dan said, as he slid into the seat that I had just vacated, leaving him sitting opposite Paul.

“Okay. Come on, Greg,” Chris said, as he headed over to the bar.

As soon as we were out of earshot of the table, I grabbed Chris by the arm. He didn’t look surprised when he stopped and looked at me.

“Alright, Chris. What the fuck is going on?” I demanded in a low voice.

Chris glanced back at the two guys we had just left. Following his glance, I saw Dan and Paul, leaning across the table, whispering furiously. Neither looked happy, but they clearly had a lot to talk about.

“They need to get some things off their chests,” Chris replied quietly. “It’s not my place to say what this is about; it’s strictly between those two. I would’ve preferred it if they didn’t need to do this, but it’s gone too far, now.”

“Chris,” I said, switching to a pleading tone, “You, Paul and Dan are my friends. If there is something going on, I want to know about it. I might be able to help.”

Chris sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, Greg, but I can’t tell you. And, no, you wouldn’t be able to help. You’re in the middle of it, as it is.”

“What do you mean, I’m in the middle of it?” I asked, completely perplexed now by what is going on. How can I be involved, and have absolutely no idea on what is happening?

“I’ve said too much,” Chris stated sadly, turning away and heading off to the bar.

I followed at a slower pace. With only a handful of words, Chris had totally confused me. I knew I wasn’t going to get anything more out of him, but all he’d done was throw me into turmoil. I’d had it all planned out. After Happy Harvey Hour, I was going to tell them that I had something important to say, but I wanted to do in private, and ask if we could go back to the Snoweagle. Once there, I would inform them that I’m gay, though the exact words I wanted to use were still escaping me. I knew I had to be careful to make sure I wouldn’t put Dan off, but I thought that I would work on that after the big announcement. The last thing I wanted to do was to scare off Dan because he thought I was trying to hit on him.

But if Dan and Paul are having issues with each other, and Paul and Chris are arguing about it, then it wasn’t going to be a good time for me to drop my little bit of news.

Chris deliberately chose what had to be the slowest line for getting the drinks, so it was some minutes before we made it back to the table.

Paul and Dan were sitting back in their seats, relaxed and chatting happily. Whatever it was that had been disturbing them, they appeared to have resolved their differences, or at least decided they didn’t matter. I glanced at Chris and I could tell that he was relieved, too.

“Here’s the drinks. How about we order lunch, now?” Chris suggested.

Dan rose to his feet.

“I’m starving!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be back with mine, shortly. See you soon!”

With that, he was gone.

While I would’ve loved to be there while Chris interrogated Paul on what had gone on, I suspected that they wouldn’t talk if I was present. Chris had indicated that I’m involved, but they don’t seem to want me to know what it’s about.

“I think it’s my turn to get the food, today. What do you guys want?” I asked.

Chris gave me a look of thanks before giving me his order. After collecting Paul’s preference, and some money, I headed off. Now was the time that I wished I had a James Bond style miniature recording device, because I was dying of curiosity. Something was going on that Dan, Chris and Paul all knew, but I was completely in the dark. Given that there had never been a time when Dan had been with the other two and I wasn’t around, I just couldn’t work out what it could be.

Dan was back before me. I noticed three heads together, whispering as I approached. I was tempted to try to sneak up on them, but I decided that wouldn’t be smart. If they were working it out, then I didn’t want to take the risk of messing things up. I was going to need all three of them to be happy and comfortable at the end of the day, if I was to build up enough courage to tell them I’m gay.

While we ate our lunch, I paid careful, and hopefully surreptitious, attention to all three. Almost all signs of tension had vanished. The only things that I could see that could be potentially worrying were Dan giving me nervous glances when he didn’t think I was watching, and Paul occasionally narrowing his eyes when he found himself looking in Dan’s direction.

The conversation was mainly about music, of all things. While I was the only one who had a real passion for the old rock and pop music of the 80’s, and Paul was the only one into heavy metal, we found enough common ground to keep the talk going. It was only near the end of lunch that we talked about what we were going to do this afternoon.

“Back to the Towers for the afternoon?” Dan asked. “Kelly won’t be working,” he added with a deadpan expression, though a twitch of the lips showed he was having a dig at Paul.

“We could,” Paul agreed with a wry grin, “but given that someone was skiing Ruined Castle this morning, maybe we could try somewhere else.”

It was only then that I realised that I hadn’t told Dan about the great lesson I’d had. Other, more serious concerns had thrown that piece of news out of my mind.

Dan looked puzzled, and then turned to me with raised eyebrows and an open mouth.

“Ruined Castle?” he asked, amazed.

I grinned. “Yep! Russ said it was because the conditions were so great, and he didn’t think we’d be back there until the end of the week, but that’s where I skied all morning,” I stated proudly.

“Hmmmm…” he started, still staring at me. “Do you think you’re up to a bit of a challenge, then?”

I started to get nervous, but I trusted that Dan wouldn’t push me too far. After all, he’d skied with me enough to know what my limits were.

“I think so,” I answered slowly.

“How about we ski the Village, then?”

I was confused. We were in the village, already. Did he mean skiing down the streets? I didn’t think that would be particularly exciting.

“The Village T-bar is a difficult blue run, almost black. Don’t you think that’s a bit beyond him?” Paul asked.

With that reminder, I recalled the ski run behind the Frying Pan; the one that Dan had ribbed Paul and Chris about, when he first met them.

Dan turned back to Paul.

“They groomed the northern half last night, so it’s not that bad. It’s the moguls that make it difficult, and half of them have gone. Greg can ski the groomed part, and we can tackle the moguls,” he explained.

Again, I was lost for a moment, before remembering that moguls were those mounds of snow that tended to form on the more difficult runs. The better skiers ski around them, picking their way down the slope with a series of tight turns.

“I’m not very good with moguls,” Chris said nervously. “I tend to run into them, instead of around them.”

“Then you could do with the practise,” Paul told him cheekily. “It’s about time you remembered how it is to fall down lots.”

He turned back to Dan before continuing. “I don’t ski them well, either,” he admitted, “but I’m willing to try.”

“Given that we’re all heading to Happy Harvey Hour tonight, we won’t be there for too long, anyway,” Dan commented. “A couple of hours is all I think we’ll have time for.”

Chris winced. “A couple of hours of moguls? Paul, you may need to carry me to Harvey Hour.”

Paul laughed gently. “I may not be able to walk either, but we’ll give it a go.”

It was quickly settled. Going outside, we walked the short distance to the Village T-bar. Located on the other side of the Frying Pan to the Eagle and Nursery lifts, I could understand why Chris was nervous. There were a couple of other skiers already on the slope, and the way they did turn after turn, facing directly down the run with the skis flicking from side to side, was way beyond what I was capable of. Given that I suspected that Chris wasn’t that far ahead of me in ability, I doubted he was able to do that either.

The groomed part was nice and smooth, but not particularly wide. I knew I’d be challenged to get my turns in before I ran into the T-bar track on one side, or the trees beyond, or the moguls on the other.

Chris and Paul got on the lift first. I noticed that the towie wasn’t helping and Paul had to grab the T-bar and position it himself. Dan didn’t seem concerned by this, so I guessed that this was normal. Only experienced skiers were expected to do this run, and they should know how to operate the lift without help.

I let Dan handle that side of things. I felt like I was there under false pretences, as I still occasionally had trouble getting on the lift at the Tower, and that was with help.

As we headed off, I made one attempt to find out what was going on.

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about, earlier?” I asked Dan.

“What?” he asked. He didn’t seem to understand what I meant, rather than being evasive.

“When you showed up for lunch. There was something going on between you and Paul.”

Now he did look evasive.

“That was personal stuff,” he said. “Between me and Paul. I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about it, yet. Maybe later, but not now.”

I wasn’t happy, but I left it at that. With the goodwill I would need from him later that day, I didn’t think it was a good time to push. I couldn’t take the risk of getting him annoyed with me.

As we rode the lift, I noticed that the run had almost two distinct sections. There was a change in direction half way down the run, with a flattish section at that point. It was clear to me that the best way for me to tackle this was to ski it in two parts. A stop at the halfway point was almost mandatory.

Chris and Paul were waiting for us at the top. Paul had a grin of anticipation, but Chris just looked nervous.

“Ready to go?” Dan asked as we pulled up next to the other two.

“I’m ready,” Paul replied, “but Chris is trying to chicken out.”

“I am not!” Chris replied indignantly. “All I did was suggest that maybe I ski with Greg for a couple of runs, just to make sure he’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah, sure Chris,” Paul said sarcastically. “We all believe you.”

Dan turned to me. “I’ll stop at the halfway mark for you. Take your time getting down, it won’t be easy,” he conceded, “but I think you can do it. See you soon!”

With that, he was off. I watched, open mouthed, as he zipped through the moguls. It was like his legs had turned into springs, with his knees bouncing up to his chest and back down again, and his skis jumping from side to side, as they went around the mounds of snow. He pulled up neatly at the halfway point, and waved a ski pole at us as he looked back up the slope.

“Holy shit!” Paul exclaimed softly. “He really knows how to ski!”

“Does that mean you’re not going to race him to the bottom, next time?” Chris asked mildly, with a faint smile creeping across his face.

“No fucking way! I wouldn’t stand a chance,” Paul replied, shaking himself out of his shock. “Time to see how well I can do it.”

Paul started off. The difference was noticeable. Paul didn’t do too badly, but he wasn’t anywhere near as graceful as Dan. You could see the times when he missed the turn he wanted, and was off balance for a couple of seconds.

I looked at Chris. “I’ve got a long way to go before I can do that, but I’m not going to improve while I’m standing here. See you at the halfway mark!”

With that, I pushed off and traversed across to my left, where the groomed section started. I deliberately kept myself from going too fast, and so managed to make my first turn when I wanted it. I forced myself to maintain my weight on my outside ski, even though I felt like leaning to the inside as I started to pick up speed. However, I was now going so quickly that I wasn’t ready for the next turn before I ran out of groomed area. I suddenly found myself skiing up the side of one of the moguls. At least it stopped me, but I had to struggle to maintain my balance as the skis then slid back a couple of feet back down the side of the mound.

Looking around, I saw Paul and Dan still waiting at the halfway mark, while Chris was only about ten feet away from me, picking himself up off the ground.

“This is going to take a while,” Chris commented dryly, as he put his skis back on.

As I tried to work out how to turn around to get back to the groomed area, Chris noticed my dilemma.

“Get yourself onto the top of one of the moguls, Greg, and then you can turn the skis around easily,” he suggested.

I tried that, and it worked. Because the skis only had the middle part on the snow, they pivoted with little effort. I quickly turned around and used my poles to push myself off. This time I managed two turns before I forced myself to stop. I had already learnt that I could stop almost anywhere by simply letting the skis take me uphill, but when you are concentrating on trying to turn, it was easy to forget.

By the time I joined Dan and Paul, I was sweating profusely. It was hard work, mainly from the constant stopping and stress. I’d fallen down four times when I ran off the groomed area, and found my skis trying to go on opposite sides of a mogul. Even so, I just managed to beat Chris, who was also having a lot of problems.

Despite how I was feeling, I noticed that Dan and Paul seemed to be relaxed. I couldn’t see any sign of tension between them, so that, at least, was looking up.

“Is it too hard, Greg?” Dan asked, concerned. “We can ski somewhere else if you like.”

That immediately brought back memories of that other weekend, where Dan had been chatting with Paul about how “hard” the village was. I know that wasn’t what Dan meant this time, but I couldn’t help grinning at the memory.

“I won’t give up that quickly,” I replied, “as long as you don’t mind waiting for me. I think you and Paul might be better off doing two runs to Chris’ and my one.”

Dan and Paul exchanged glances. “If you don’t mind,” Dan answered tentatively.

“Not at all,” I said, “I sincerely doubt that we’ll be waiting for you. It’ll still be very much the other way around.”

So that’s what we ended up doing. Chris struggled through the moguls until he’d had enough and switched over to the groomed section. I just plain struggled. But Paul and Dan were skiing together, and riding the lift up together. I was willing to put up with a bit of frustration if it meant that those two would resolve whatever it was that was coming between them.

We finished early, so we could get ready for our drinking session at the hotel later that afternoon. Chris and I both said we needed long hot showers, too. Chris lamented the fact that the lodge didn’t have a spa, as he really just wanted to lie down in a pool of hot water for an hour or so.

It was only a short trip back to our room from where we were. Garret was sitting up in his bed, reading another of Dan’s books. He waved as we entered, but seemed too engrossed to make conversation.

I quickly grabbed some clothes and retreated to the shower. Dan joked that he needed a shower too, and I just gave him the finger. He’d made me ski the Village, and for that he could wait.

Afterwards, I felt a lot better. As I waited for Dan to have his shower, I started getting tense again. This was a big day for me. For the first time, I was going to admit to someone else that I’m gay. I couldn’t pick two guys more likely to accept me for what I am than Chris and Paul, but I still felt nervous. As for Dan, well, I was petrified that he’d reject me. It was totally irrational, but that’s the way I felt. He was cool with the other two guys, and would even trade innuendo with them, at times. But he wasn’t sharing a room with them, and he is with me. Would that make any difference?

Shit! I had no ideas what his reaction was going to be, but I was trying to anticipate the worst. This was only getting me down. I almost felt like backing out of my plan, but I knew I’d never get another chance like this. If things went badly, Chris and Paul could look after me for the night. I made a resolution to stop thinking of what could go wrong, and just think about all the positives. Simply stepping out of the closet, even if only to three people, would be an achievement.

Before I knew it, we were on our way to the Falls Creek Hotel, and Happy Harvey Hour. A few Harvey Wallbangers may be just enough Dutch courage to help me through the rest of the day.

Paul and Chris were waiting inside for us. They had grabbed a table for four along one of the walls, and were busy fending off people who were asking if the other seats were taken.

“Paul made us get here early,” Chris explained, “because he knew we wouldn’t get a seat, otherwise.”

Looking around at the crowded room, I appreciated his foresight. If we wanted a table now, we’d have to go outside. That would be bearable, but certainly not desirable. With an overcast sky, the chilled air had a bite to it.

“As this is my first time, how about I get the first round?” I suggested.

“If you’re offering, I see no reason to refuse,” Chris replied happily. I noticed that both he and Paul had an empty beer glass in front of them. They’d probably bought the beers to forestall any attempt to get them to move while they waited for us to show up, and Happy Harvey Hour to start.

“So, what do I ask for?” I inquired.

“Just ask for a jug and four glasses,” Dan replied. “During Harvey Hour, they know that means only one thing.”

With that as my instructions, I proceeded to work myself to the bar. It took some time, as there were a lot of other people doing the same. I saw several people heading back with two, and in one case three, jugs of Harvey Wallbangers.

Finally reaching the bar, I was quickly served. I was pleasantly surprised at how cheap it was. They must be making their money on the turnover, because I couldn’t see that they’d be making much on each individual jug.

I managed to return to the table without spilling anything. I was bumped a couple of times, but considering the number of people around, that wasn’t too bad. I was pleased when I was able to sit down, though.

“Here’s to a great Harvey Hour and a happy evening to follow,” Dan proposed once the first round of drinks was poured. Somehow or other, he managed to appear serious when he said it. Given what I was planning on saying afterwards, I fervently prayed that it would be a happy evening.

The conversation continued with Paul asking Dan how he managed to get a job up here in the first place. He told us that during summer the previous year, he had seen an ad for jobs up here. As he wasn’t really happy working at his dad’s garage, he applied and got offered a position. Being used to working outdoors, and having a good knowledge of engines seemed to have helped. It’s not an ideal job, because it’s so seasonal, but he fell in love with the place and just had to come back again this year. Unless something crops up, he’s planning on applying again for a position next year. As long as he keeps his nose clean, work-wise, the company is quite keen to get repeat workers, so he doesn’t expect there to be a problem. Part of their initial job interviews seem to be geared to working out whether someone is able to stick it out for the whole season, and how likely they are to come back the following year.

Before we knew it, the first jug was empty, so Paul got up to buy the next jug. Dan, Chris and I continued to chat as the light buzz from the previous set of drinks helped everyone to relax.

“What’s up, Paul? Lost your way?” Dan asked cheekily.

I looked up to see Paul standing by the table. I was going to add my own wisecrack when I noticed something wasn’t right.

Paul had gone ashen, and his body was visually trembling.

“What’s wrong, Paul?” I asked, concerned. He hadn’t had enough to drink to be sick, unless he was still being affected by our drinking spree the previous night.

Paul ignored us and just looked at Chris.

“One of them is at the bar,” he said shakily. He started sending nervous glances back towards the crowd at the bar.

“Who?” Dan asked.

“Get me out of here?” Paul pleaded to Chris, still ignoring the rest of us.

Alarmed, Chris quickly rose to his feet. Dragging out his wallet, he threw some money on the table.

“Sorry, guys. Buy another round on us,” he said apologetically, before putting an arm across Paul’s shoulder and leading him to the door. I could see Paul leaning into him for support, but anyone else would just think it was someone helping a mate who’d had too much to drink.

“What was that all about?” Dan asked, still staring after the disappearing couple.

I tossed up on whether to say anything, but while they didn’t talk about it, I’d never heard either Chris or Paul hide the information.

“I think I know, but you’ve got to keep it yourself,” I said, leaning forward to try to ensure that I wasn’t overheard.

Dan turned to face me, still perplexed at what had just happened.

“Some time ago, I don’t know when, Paul was attacked. I saw him have a flashback once, and he just collapsed into himself,” I started quietly. “It was really scary. I’m guessing that one of the guys who bashed him is at the bar. How anyone can bash a guy, simply because he’s gay, is beyond me.”

Dan sat back in his chair and stared blankly at the crowd by the bar. I looked too, trying to speculate on who it was that was a gay-basher. When neither of us made any other movement, I reached over and picked up the money Chris had dropped. I’d return it when I saw him next. I didn’t feel like having anything else to drink, and I don’t think Dan did either.

“I think you’re wrong, Greg,” Dan said suddenly.

I just looked at him. What did I have wrong?

“I know a few gay-bashing victims, but I’ve only seen a reaction anything like Paul’s once before. That guy wasn’t bashed,” he said quietly before turning to look me in the eye.

With an edge to his voice that spoke of a grief unspoken, Dan continued.

“I think Paul was raped.”

I struggled to comprehend what Dan had just said. Raped? I went back over everything I’d heard them say, but I couldn’t recall them ever using the word “bashed”; it was always an attack.

I started feeling sick in my stomach. I’d been lusting after Paul for days now; weeks, if you counted from when I first met him. While I would never force anyone, I recognised that Paul’s appearance was stunning enough that he’d attract a lot of attention. I’d never considered it before, but if there are rapists amongst straight guys, there must be the same sorts who are gay. Considering the thoughts I’d been having about Paul, it was all too easy to believe Dan. It would only take one sicko who wouldn’t take “No” for an answer.

“You’re probably wondering how I know a gay-rape victim, as well as some gay-bashed guys,” Dan stated softly, still in that grief-edged voice.

I hadn’t been, but that did strike me as odd. My mind was still trying to take in the news about Paul, though, and this just confused me more.

“You see, I’m gay, too,” Dan added quietly.

NEXT CHAPTER