Chapter 1

Blanche McCallister sighed deeply and shifted the weight of her gear pack. Her skis shifted reassuringly in their straps and she continued on her way up the steep slope. Her poles bit into the hard pack beneath two feet of fresh powder as the mountain altitude tried to steal her breath. The trees were starting to thin out finally as she approached the tree line, the top of the Ridge was coming and she was sure every step she had taken to get there would be worth the ski down. It was the first day of December and the first day of her month and a half long vacation. She was young, vibrant, and at 19, fighting to hang on to the identity she had created for herself. What she wanted most was for the world to just leave her alone so she could focus on her passion. However, her family name would ensure that it would never happen. But if she stayed in the back bowls and no one ever saw her face they wouldn't intrude on her solitude. Frankly that was just fine with her.

Finally reaching the top of the ridge, Blanche looked down the steep basin. Sharp rocks jutted up from the snow and a straight crevasse filled with snow begged for her to just try and ski it. Undoing her skis from her backpack, the name McCallister flashed up at her from the tips of her skis. Bending down to buckle her boots McCallister again flashed up at her. In fact everything Blanche wore, right down to her second skin made of a micro-fleece lined neoprene and spandex mixture had the McCallister name on it. This was for two reasons, one, she looked like so many of the kids that her father's company sponsored and two it was all free. She got everything free and everything in her favorite colors, dark green and black. She also got all the newest equipment; all she had to do was ask. Which was her father's pleasure to give it to her because that was usually all Blanche asked him for.

Hopefully her cell phone wouldn't find reception this far into the back-country. Even though she was the black sheep of the family they would still call her and try to convince her to come home, especially Elle. Her grandfather had started a multi-billion dollar company of the most wanted and most dependable outdoor equipment and clothes which had grown into a number of chain stores that had popped up all over the country. When he died the money had gone to Blanche's father who in turn split up the fortune between his three children equally. The money had gone to her mother, sister, and brother's heads they lived like royalty. Everyone knew their names, everyone knew their faces, and Blanche hated every minute of it. Her sister was a bottle blonde beauty who partied all the time and owned anything she wanted. Her brother was known as the bad boy of Hollywood, all the famous actors hid their daughters from him and all the aspiring pop stars knew that if they went with Henry McCallister to an awards show they would be the next big hit. Try as she might Blanche couldn't get away from her family name. The more she hid from being in the light the more people seemed to force it on her. Blanche was beautiful, there was no denying it, her mahogany colored hair combined with her lavender eyes and girl next door looks had every guy in California drooling. Her younger sister, Elle, had not been so fortunate, but after a nose and boob job, she also had every guy vying for her attention as well. Unlike Blanche, Elle, who was now finally 18, was "The Party Girl" and her mother's favorite.

Pulling her goggles down as she hopped off the ridge another skier caught her eye on the other side of the bowl. She silently cursed the other skier for invading on her territory but then realized that it was just one so he wasn't going to get in her way. Why wouldn't he be out? It snowed fourteen inches of fresh powder the night before, it actually startled her that there weren't more people, but then again it was only eight in the morning. She started her line with large hesitant deep carves, then came the cliff, she pulled a twisting back flip and landed it a little harder than she had hoped. Powder rained down on her and she kept moving shortening her line up and increasing her speed, she had more to go before she reached the bottom of the bowl.

It could have been that she didn't see it coming or that she just wasn't paying attention enough but suddenly a wave of snow caught her and collided with the back of her knees. Suddenly all Blanche could see was her boots, then her gloves, then her goggles, the tip of one ski, and finally what she thought was the basket of one of her poles before all she saw was white. She had no idea how far she had rolled but what she did know was that she was entombed in snow. When she finally stopped she gently wiggled all the parts of her body. Nothing was hurt, except maybe her pride. Extremely agitated with herself Blanche gathered all the spit she could in her mouth and expelled it with as much force as she could only to have her spit come back and hit her in the face.

"Great," she mumbled, "well at least I'm facing up." Blanche began to dig herself out. It was slow work because she had been buried under four feet of snow.

"Hello? Can you hear me? Shout if you're alive." A male voice said from above her. Blanche figured it must be the other skier; he was the only other person out there.

"Yeah..." she shouted, " I'm right here." With that she shoved her right arm up through the snow with all her might, hoping it would break though. There was a crunch of snow above her and someone wiggled the tip of her mitten. "Yep that's me." She yelled.

"Don't worry I'll help dig you out, anything hurt?"

"No," she said loud enough for him to hear, then in a normal voice, "maybe just my pride." Blanche assumed that it wasn't audible through the snow.

"Very funny." The other skier said as he uncovered the rest of her arm to her elbow. Blanche pushed through the rest of the snow and soon pulled herself into a sitting position next to the guy. Her helmet was packed with snow, and there was snow packed in places she didn't even know she had.

"That was some twisting back flip you pulled." He said pulling her backpack off of her shoulders and setting it next to her. Blanche laughed.

"Yeah it was pretty good too bad I had to yard sale." Blanche said spying the tip of one of her skis and the strap from one of her poles. Hopping up she walked over and pulled them out of the snow. "I wish I knew where my other ski was."

"You mean this green and black McCallister Mynx-2?" he asked brandishing her other ski. "I think I see your other pole too." He said hiking up another ten feet. He reached down and with little difficulty pulled it free before walking down to Blanche. He still hadn't taken off his helmet or goggles and Blanche still couldn't gauge his age or what he looked like. Although she could tell that he had a nice smile.

"Thanks." She said taking it from him. She put her skis and poles by her bag and turned to introduce herself.

"I didn't know that they made Mynx-2's in green and black." He said; his voice was pleasant but rough and gravely. It sent shudders down Blanche's spine; if she were Elle she'd be throwing herself all over him by now.

"They don't, these are the only pair." Blanche said grudgingly, he knew his skis, which meant as soon as he knew who she was he'd be all over her. He'd try to attach himself to her and milk her for all he could. Blanch prepared herself to be mean, something she really hated to do and turned back to him.

"That's cool, you must be either sponsored by McCallister or you got yourself some money." He smiled, Blanche's insides twisted she really hated to be mean to people. "Come here, you have snow all over you. Aren't you cold?"

Blanche eyed him wearily, trying to decide if he knew who she was or if he was just trying to be nice, she'd stopped trusting people when she was about eight. "You're one tough girl." He was still a respective distance from her.

"Um... thanks?" Blanche really didn't know what to do; no one had ever treated her like a person before. He walked closer to her and made a move to help her but stopped.

"You don't mind if I help you get the snow off of you do you? Or are you the kind of person who'd bite my hand off it I tried to help you? Cause if you don't want help I'll just hike the bowl again." He said eyeing her warily.

"No, that's fine. I don't mind if you help me." Blanche said, wondering how long it would take him to figure it out. He smiled at her and unclipped her helmet. He carefully began to pick all the snow out of it as he inspected the stickers on it.

"Your part of the Yellowstone Club?" he asked with excitement in his voice. Blanche nodded she had busied herself with picking chunks out of her elbow length hair. "You must be really good, and you don't even look that old either if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"I'm nineteen, I'll be twenty on St. Patrick's Day." Blanche answered, she was pre-occupied and had let some of her usual guard down.

"That's cool." He said nodding, "I'll be twenty-one in two days."

"Oh." Said Blanche as she started on the inside of her coat.

"I'm Seth by the way." He handed back her helmet. "Seth Waters." Blanche stopped and stared at him.

"Are you related to Will Waters?"

"Yeah, kinda. You're not going to think differently of me because of it are you?" he said, he sounded kind of crestfallen. Blanche had only idolized Will Waters since she was a child. He was the best downhill, GS, and slalom racer in the late 70's and 80's and in her opinion best skier ever to grace the planet. She was going to ask if he could somehow help her meet him when she realized he was in the same position as she was.

"No, I'm not." She smiled at him and his smile returned along with a sigh of relief. "I'm Blanche McCallister."

"Ha-ha that's kinda funny." Seth said laughing at her; she could feel her stomach roll ready to attack.

"What's so funny?"

"That you would buy all McCallister stuff," he laughed, "Cause it's the same as your last name. See my dad's got me on all Rossignol stuff because he gets it for free now."

"Your dad is Will Waters?" she said in disbelief.

"Yeah what's it to you? Do you want me to show you my skis; are you expecting them to be long boards? Because they're not. It's not like you know what it's like having a famous dad. I'm sure people just mess up your name and go, 'Oh! Is your dad Greg McCallister?" he mocked waving his hands. Blanche blushed and looked away. Seth quickly realized that he upset her, and that was the last thing he wanted, he always seemed to snap at people who got all excited over his dad. He let out a great sigh. "I'm sorry Blanche, I didn't mean to."