Chapter 26
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Mara had two minutes.
Two minutes of standing beside Kirby before being forced to move to the starting line. Two minutes to say something before the final heat. To say anything.
Kirby had her eyes closed and was moving from one leg to the other. She kept shaking out her arms. They had hardly spoken after they’d come in with the fifth best time in the qualification leg. Kirby had nodded at her. Mara had nodded back.
It had been silence since then.
One minute.
She could hear people in the stands chanting her name. There were a lot of American flags waving.
She watched Kirby, but Kirby didn’t open her eyes.
Thirty seconds. She didn’t know what she should say. She wanted to say something.
They were given the signal to head to the start, and Kirby finally looked at her.
Kirby reached out and moved Mara’s sunglasses, which had been up on her head, down into position over her eyes.
“Thanks,” Mara said.
Kirby nodded again.
And that was it. She should have said more. But that was it.
Mara wasn’t an aggressive skier, and she’d never been the scramble leg on a relay or team sprint where she had to jockey for the best position once the race started.
But she understood the strategy. She wasn’t going to let Kirby down.
The signal sounded, and she immediately bounded forward, making a tactical move to the front, and she was off.
Under three minutes. She needed to finish her lap in well under three minutes. Two and half would be better.
Easy.
There was only one skier in front of her.
She powered up the hill and flew down it, around a slick curve, and back onto the straightaway. The lap was just under a mile long. When she skated back into the stadium, Kirby was in the relay exchange zone.
Mara pushed, tapping Kirby on the shoulder as Kirby took off.
One leg down. Five to go.
Mara breathed through the exertion and prepared for her next leg, only a few minutes to recover.
The team sprint was an interesting and complex mix of anaerobic and aerobic work, and her fitness skills were better suited to continuous endurance and distance, but that didn’t matter today.
She was going to succeed even if it shredded every muscle in her body.
Kirby raced into the stadium. She was in third but barely. All three top teams were bunched up.
She tapped Mara.
Mara burst forward and quickly swung around the sprinter from Italy, putting first place—Norway—in her sights.
She finished her lap in second, and Kirby zipped off.
One lap left. Mara only had one lap left. Then it was all on Kirby to finish the anchor leg.
Everything was happening so fast. She tried to catch her breath.
Coach Wu and Coach Karlsson were shouting things at her from off the course. Mara nodded, but she wasn’t really hearing. She knew what she needed to do.
Kirby entered the stadium in third again. Norway was pulling away.
Aggressive. She needed to race aggressively.
Kirby tapped her. A perfect exchange, and Mara’s focus zeroed in on Norway. On first place. She easily passed second place again.
Mara pursued Norway, narrowing the lead with every push forward. The big curve on the course was fast and slippery, and Mara had been too conservative on it during the previous legs.
She needed to trust her skis. And herself.
She blew around the curve, gaining on Norway.
They hit the final climb, then the straightaway in the stadium, and she wasn’t going to let Kirby down. Using her whole body, every reserve of energy, and every bit of her heart, she closed the gap.
Mara saw Kirby’s face, her smile, right before Kirby turned and started skiing, trying to pick up momentum before the exchange. Mara pushed harder to explode through the end of her leg. She let out a yell and tapped Kirby’s shoulder.
She got out of the way and put her hands on her knees. Her chest was heaving, and pain was present and accounted for in every part of her body. Even her teeth hurt. She felt ultimately drained. Emotionally and physically.
“Fuck,” she gasped, standing up. Tears sprung to her eyes. She was helped out of her skis.
The Norwegian skier she’d been chasing all race gave her a hug, and they both moved to the other side of the finish line to wait for their teammates to complete their last lap.
Mara was still winded when Kirby came into the stadium in second.
She reached the straightaway, and Mara knew how exhausted she’d been by that point. But Kirby didn’t look tired. She looked powerful.
She caught Norway. Drew even.
“Come on, Kirby!” Mara screamed.
Kirby had more in the tank, more to give.
One last push, all grit and determination and perseverance, and Kirby passed Norway. She lunged across the finish line. And Mara screamed again. She’d never screamed like that in her life, and she couldn’t stop.
Kirby collapsed onto her side, and Mara dove at her.
“You did it! You did it,” Mara yelled, grabbing Kirby, wanting to shake her and touch her and hug her. “You did it. Holy shit, Kirby, you did it!”
Kirby grimaced, panting. “We did.” She loosely wrapped her arms around Mara, and then her arms fell back into the snow like a puppet whose strings had been cut. “I’m tired.”
Mara laughed. No shit she was tired.
Mara cupped Kirby’s face, cold hands against Kirby’s red cheeks. Kirby smiled and sat up.
They had won a gold medal.
Holy shit. They’d won.
And suddenly Mara was sobbing, and she couldn’t stop that either.
Kirby pressed her forehead to Mara’s, and Mara never wanted to leave that position. In the snow, on their butts, Kirby still strapped into her skis, heads together, and so fucking close.
Kirby shucked off her gloves and gripped Mara’s face, skin on skin, her fingertips in Mara’s hair. Mara cried harder.
“You finally got your Olympic gold,” Kirby whispered.
“We did. I didn’t want to let you down.”
“Never.” Kirby wiped a tear away from Mara’s cheek with her thumb. “God, Mara.”
Then a flag was wrapped around their shoulders. They needed to stand up. They needed to do any number of things, but Mara wasn’t moving.
She was soaking up the win with Kirby for as long as she was allowed. For forever if she was allowed.