Page 16 of Just Like the Brontë Sisters

Chapter 10: Jo Beth

Jo Beth clung to a secret: She was glad for her knee injury, glad to be off the hook for the next Olympics. It wasn’t just the fear of failure that drove her. Skiing itself had become way too scary.

It had started with winning the silver. She couldn’t get over it. One pause, one hesitant turn, one bump to the right instead of straight ahead, and now she couldn’t let go of the what-ifs and they led her down a dark path. What if I’d planted my poles slightly forward on takeoff? What if I’d put more weight on my left thigh? What if I lost my balance, tumbled down, hit my head at an angle, broke my neck, and died? The infinite number of possibilities played in a constant loop inside her mind and it dawned on her just how many ways there were to die while skiing. Why had she never seen it before? This was an unwanted paradigm shift, like waking up inside a horror movie without a credit roll. The only way to make it stop was to stop skiing altogether, but that was impossible. The world expected her to ski, so of course she did, but she’d come to hate every moment of it.

Except, that is, when she skied with Skylar. Somehow with her skiing was safe. But then Skylar won her stupid dare and Jo Beth crashed on that rocky slope, and skiing became a favorite jacket that no longer fit. Jo Beth tore more than just a ligament that day. Something else irredeemably ripped inside her, and both Skylar and the mountain had won. That meant Jo Beth lost, and if there was one thing Jo Beth was bad at, it was losing.

That’s why she had to leave.

She never apologized for any of her behavior and her guilt was its own form of quicksand. When Jo Beth finally came home for Christmas she avoided Skylar, not wanting to be alone with her because she had no idea what she’d say to her sister. So, Jo Beth made plans with friends for Christmas Eve and on Christmas Day she feigned a hangover, not making it over to her Mom and Dad’s until nearly dinnertime.

The instant she walked through the door, Skylar caught her in a hug. “I missed you so much!” she laughed and cried, squeezing her tight.

Jo Beth hugged her back and for a moment the constant, high pitched panic that had burdened her for the past few months diminished into a softer tone. Jo Beth pulled away and took Skylar in.

“You look exactly the same,” Jo Beth said, which was a lie. Skylar had a new, pixyish cut that accentuated her hair’s brown waves, and there were even more freckles splattered across her cheeks, which made her hazel eyes pop. To anyone else, Skylar would be a combination of girl-next-door and uniquely pretty, but to Jo Beth, she was heart-meltingly beautiful. She’d thought so the first time she ever saw her baby face, and she thought so now.

“And you look skinny.” said Skylar. “Did you forget to eat in Chile?”

Jo Beth shrugged. “I just did a lot of walking and I got busy.”

Actually, she’d been on a torrent. Every morning she woke with a list of things to do, places to visit, people to meet. With every goal attained there were five more added to her list and it was never-ending. There was barely time for rest and little time for food. Then she met Magda and life was even more of a loud rush, which was all the better to drown out the high-pitched panic.

Mom spoke up. “Well, let’s feed you now. Dinner is ready.”

“Wait,” said Skylar. “We have to introduce Jo Beth to Gavin.”

A medium-tallish guy with floppy brown bangs stepped forward, his hand extended. “Hello,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Gavin has been working at the bakery so much that he’s practically become a family member,” said Mom.

“I’d give anything for that to be true,” replied Gavin, his eyes planted on Skylar, who was oblivious to his gaze.

For the moment, Jo Beth could feel that she had Skylar’s undivided attention, and in a good way. It meant Skylar didn’t hold a grudge. Maybe the skiing accident, their argument, and Jo Beth’s abandonment of her sister were all water under the bridge. But was it really possible for them to just move on, to not talk about it, to just sort of pretend that none of it had ever happened? Maybe their strong sisterly bond could endure such a strain, but there was always the possibility that stress fractures would surface later. And Jo Beth knew from experience that once something was cracked it was as good as broken.