Chapter 3
The rain held out for the whole race until I was about to approach the jumps. It got to me, just like it always does. I crashed once. It was minor, but still—I should be better than that.
I’m an idiot.
I scrambled off the bike once I realized I was going to fall, scraping up my calf in the process. I know how to fall properly—at least I should—and that is not how you do it. Falling the wrong way can mean the difference between life and death.
Everyone is cheering at my perfectly respectable score as I join the crowd, but I’m seething inside.
Once again, I took the safe path, and I hate myself for it…
always so safe and careful. Safe and careful doesn’t get you an invite to Red Bull Rampage, the final and biggest event of the freeride season.
Damien is holding Josie up on his shoulders, and they’re clapping with bright smiles on their faces.
Reid tackles me into a hug, practically taking me down to the ground.
Delaney offers me a knowing smile. She cornered me last night, asking how I was going to survive months and months on the road with him.
There was nothing to say—I’m fucked. We both know it.
This weekend was our last event in Colorado. The rest of the freeride season will take place on trails all across the U.S. and Canada. Reid and I will be trapped on the road together soon, even if I desperately need more space from him.
At least we’ll have separate vans.
My race was done by eleven, so we all went back to the resort for a late lunch. Soon we’ll be off.
Just the two of us. For several months.
Our next stop is Jackson, Wyoming, and I honestly can’t wait to be back in the Tetons. Those mountains always make me feel more adventurous—I could use some more of that energy right now. They’re similar to the Colorado Rockies, but less restrained.
While Damien finishes inspecting the van, I take one last steaming bath filled with all of the oils and salts I could want. He’s insistent that he checks every little thing before we leave. He keeps saying, “and you’re sure that all the wiring is right?”
Each time, my reply is the same. “Yes. I’m sure.”
I can’t complain though, I’ll take any delay right now.
I’m pacing around my bedroom, considering every belonging I’ll miss when I’m gone.
Nothing will make you realize how attached you are to material objects quite like having to live in a vehicle.
My fingers run along the surface of my wooden desk haphazardly.
I’m not looking for anything in particular, but I find a picture.
I wish I didn’t. It’s blurry. We’re smiling.
It makes my heart throb against my chest.
Staring at this moment of Chloe and I laughing together reminds me how much I miss her. We used to be best friends. She lives a few towns over, so we grew up riding and hiking together every weekend. Now, I’m not sure if I can even call her my friend at all. I sure haven’t been acting like one.
We’re standing on the edge of a creek bed, our favorite rope swing hanging in the background.
It looks like we don’t have a care in the world—we probably didn’t.
I need a plan to restore our friendship this season.
Two years is too long to go without her.
She understands me in a way that none of my other friends do—even Riley, even Reid.
I pushed her away when I wasn’t thinking clearly, too clouded in grief to see that she was trying to help.
I’ve failed every single time I’ve attempted to type out an apology to her.
Once more, I attempt it, but it’s futile.
My thumb refuses to migrate to the send button.
I know she’d forgive me right away, she probably already has. That makes it harder somehow.
Slamming my phone face down on the desk, I force my legs to take me towards the bathtub. These are my last few moments of peace—I need to soak them in. I’ll have to figure out what to do about Chloe once we get closer to Jackson. She’ll be there, I’ll have to finally say something.
The steam licks up around my chest and lulls my heart back to a semi-steady rhythm. It doesn’t last long. My screwed up brain is latching onto the next worry. The image of Damien scrutinizing Willa’s every screw has me doubting if she is truly ready for the road.
I’m pretty damn sure everything is up to par—at least it should be.
I hired the best mechanics and wood workers, sparing no expense.
My favorite part, aside from the shower, is the maintenance station for our bikes.
The shower head can be detached, so we’ll be able to fully wash our bikes off when the back doors are open.
We’ll store them upright in there while we drive.
Running through my mental checklist, I assure myself everything is fine and I haven’t forgotten anything.
I’m already climbing out of the tub—it didn’t last nearly long enough.
As I wrap myself up in my robe for the final time, I try to convince myself that there’s room to bring it along. There’s not.
The artificial comfort works though. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
I glance out my window, the big one that overlooks the circular driveway at the base of the main house. Damien’s playing with the air compressor. He would say that he’s ‘checking’ it, but he’s playing with it. I can’t blame him, it is pretty fun to play with.
Reid has a paint brush in his hand—he must have finished touching up the paint on the side.
Last week, right after I agreed to travel with him, he insisted we paint ‘Willa the Wagon’ on the side in bright orange letters.
I’m still not sure that I should be painting the side of my van.
I’m worried it’ll make me a target for cops—and potential creepers too.
Reid assures me that I’m a strict rule follower so I’ll be fine with the cops, and that he’ll be right there with me to ward off any creepers.
That makes me feel more at ease than I would like to admit. Reid’s like a giant teddy bear…with massive biceps and hard abs. I’ve never quite been able to shake my all-consuming crush on him.
He’s always there, and I never want him to leave—except, I need him to. Otherwise, I’m doomed to be single and pathetic forever. My obsession didn’t start with any one thing. It was a slow, curling sensation. Before I knew it, I was wrapped up in him with no hope of escape.
Every time I try to date, I come home and see his fucking goofy grin and towering frame. Every time it makes me forget all about my date.
No man will ever live up to the fantasy that is Reid Hastings.
It’s been like this since we were tweens.
Everything was innocent at first—he was the only one of the boys to slow down for me on the slopes.
The only one to make sure that I got the last pastry and didn’t feel guilty about it.
But one day, my brain re-categorized him, and I haven’t been able to get things back in order since.
When Reid came to me with his ‘teammate’ plan, I said yes before I even considered how awkward it would be.
I offered to store his bike so he wouldn’t have to rest his head on the back tire like he did last season.
Now, we’re locked in. Six months, four thousand miles and six events. We’ll be stuck together.
This is my first real year on the downhill circuit.
Women have finally started getting attention.
It’s now or never. I can’t keep half-assing this thing.
I’m giving women’s downhill a bad rep at this point.
All because of my inability to suck it the fuck up and ride.
Last year was the first time women were ever allowed to compete in Red Bull Rampage.
It’s the biggest freeride competition ever, and it’s essentially the super bowl of mountain biking. We finally have a place here.
I’m a disgrace to the Fairfax name merely for my desire to be outside. They would much rather I sit in a stuffy office all day and inject my face with silicon. I prefer my silicon on my handlebars.
That’s a big part of why I love mountain biking so much.
It’s the one part of life that feels like it’s all mine.
Even if people are watching—judging—the only thing that genuinely matters when I’m on the bike is not falling.
Riding the veil between life or death strangely calms me.
My nerves are always geared up for the worst case scenario—tossing myself off of mountains gives them a chance to finally release.
Every ride, I do my best to memorize that feeling—to memorize my why. But it never sticks. I forget every single fucking time. Getting myself to take the leap is always a battle.
I’m always trying. Trying to overcome fears, trying to fit in, trying to seem like I’m not trying. Someday, I want to just exist and not think about my every breath.
I’ve never fit with my family either. I used to sit around wondering if I was adopted—that’s unlikely considering Aster and I are twins.
She’s a polished version of me. Her golden hair is always smooth and shiny where mine is unmanageable.
Aster’s lashes are constantly covered in a lump-free layer of silky black that makes her eyes more alluring than mine.
My twin’s porcelain skin is never covered in freckles—or dirt.
I always wanted to chase after salamanders with the boys or ski back country trails with Delaney. I love Aster, don’t get me wrong, but we don’t get each other, and we probably never will.
Damien acts like he’s my own brother, and I love him for it.
Our parents are best friends and business partners, so naturally all of us kids became close too—built in friendships that our parents hoped would translate to financially beneficial connections one day.
Damien and Delaney’s dad—Sebastian—created Sterling Summits.
He basically owns half of the damn town too.
Mr. Sterling loves us kids, but he’s pretty cold, nothing like his late wife, Josie.
She was the physical embodiment of an angel.
Josie made the resort feel like a fairy tale. I miss her more than I have a right to.
Reid was young when his mom, Lily, first started working there.
Childcare often fell through, so she’d bring him to work.
We quickly adopted him as one of our own, especially once they started living on the grounds.
We’d run through the resort playing hide and seek, trying and failing to stay out of the guests’ way.
Lily is a mother to me in her own way, always reminding me to stop and smell the wildflowers.
It was simple back then, sharing stolen cinnamon rolls, and in later years, watered down liquor.
As we got older, Damien and Reid drew together and pushed the rest of us further apart.
Delaney and Aster started to bond with each other more and more too, and I was left on the sidelines.
I found Chloe and Riley as a pre-teen. Riley and her brother, Parker, live in California, but they often spend summers and holidays at Sterling Summits.
At first, I didn’t like Riley. She’s the antithesis to me in almost every way—so full of sunshine and optimism. For whatever reason, she never gave up on me. She wore down my hardened exterior and forced me to trust her with my vulnerability.
Riley must sense me thinking about her, because my phone rings through the room. Her voice is full of levity per usual as she says, “Happy departure day!”
I’m silent.
“Addie. It’s gonna be amazing I promise. Just think about all of the beautiful sunsets.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m just nervous.” I’m biting on my lip as I say it.
I can hear her suck in a breath before she replies. My anxiety is frustrating—I get that. I try to diffuse her worry. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being negative. I’m excited about the views.”
“Are you excited about anything else?” Her smile is audible.
“No, we’re not talking about that.” My eyes are rolling as I say it. The more I label my feelings for Reid, the more power they’ll have over me.
“Okay. Okay. No discussing he who shall not be named. Are you excited to see Chloe?”
Fuck. I don’t want to talk about her either. I’m attempting bravery in my reply. “I’m not sure what to say to her.”
Riley is quick to encourage. “You just tell her you miss her. I’m sure she understands.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Delaney standing in the doorway with two lattes in her hands. I’m rushing to end the conversation with Riley—partially for me, partially for Delaney. I whisper, “Love you.”
The goodbye is abrupt, but thankfully, Riley doesn’t comment on it. They had a falling out a few years ago over some guy named Miles. Delaney had a crush on him and Riley, oblivious as she is, hooked up with him without realizing how it would impact Delaney.
I’m still in my ridiculously fluffy robe. Delaney hands me the latte and giggles. “You know, you’re gonna have to get dressed at some point.”
“I know. I know.” I groan.
My eyes drift back to Reid finishing his paint job on the van—my cheeks flush a little.
Delaney has been on me about telling Reid how I feel.
She’s been home all year, which is unlike her.
Delaney is typically off climbing a massive mountain.
As a result of her being home, she’s become a bit exhausted by my moping around. I already know what she’s about to say.
Her eyes are gentle like a bunny. “You should tell him, Addie.”
“You know I can’t.” I brush my braid off of my collarbone and clutch my hand around my throat.
Delaney’s tone is saccharine, “It’s worth a shot, Addie.”
I get that she means well, but I don’t need any help with my delusions. I’ve got those in spades. She’s looking at me sideways, already clocking my spiral. “Addie, you can’t let your fears keep you from living.”
My mouth opens to protest, but I snap it shut, because she’s right. So I say nothing and instead focus on the van below and the boy working on it.
Reid is waving at me dramatically, and he’s smiling like a fool.
My stomach clenches. I keep trying to remind myself that excitement and anxiety feel the same way in the body.
The pad of my thumb runs against the fluffy edge of my robe one last time before I reluctantly head to my walk-in closet to get dressed.
It’s time to go, and there are no more excuses to put it off. The van’s packed, and my fate is sealed.