"Just as she turned to look up toward the slope, Matthew skidded comically on the packed powder rapidly advancing toward her. His ski poles flailed at odd angles, while he wobbled from side to side. Laurel held her ground, digging her toes into her boots, she jammed her poles into the ground on each side of her.
Indeed, Matthew stopped easily and abruptly before he plowed Laurel over onto the dirty snow-covered ground. Skidding sideways, his skis skittered slightly against the corny icy sludge covering the parking lot.
“I knew you would stop, coach. You never fooled me.”
“That stuff is getting crusty toward the bottom of this run, I almost knocked you down. Our gift of powder is disappearing quickly today.” Laurel rolled her eyes, uprooted her poles, and glared at him. “Alright, alright, I knew I wouldn’t phase you. I could if I really wanted to though.” He winked at her from behind his ski goggles.
“Quit flirting with me. I still need to run a couple miles but I need food first, are you coming with, or must I walk?” Laurel feigned irritation, amusement tingeing her tone.
“Yes, you can come with me, let’s go get some chow. An après-ski cheeseburger sounds amazing.” Matthew’s mouth began to water as Laurel took off her own goggles and shook her hair loose from the Under Armour beanie. He wondered if it was all about the thought of a juicy cheeseburger, or if her long blonde locks had anything to do with it.
“Cheeseburger? Are you high?” Laurel teased Matthew with a ridiculous assumption.
“What do you mean, Miss Health Nut, you having a baked potato, broiled chicken, and salad-again?”
Laurel socked Matthew in the shoulder with a padded gloved fist. “I’m not that bad, old man, but, I am in training after all.” She used one ski pole to snap down on the back of her bindings as she clicked her ski boots out of their tight hold. She moved quickly, having perfected the act hundreds, if not thousands, of times. "