Chapter 20
Girls are going first today, which is unusual.
Something about it has me feeling more sure of myself.
My dreams last night were all about riding.
Most of my dreams are on the nights leading up to a competition, but these were different.
This time I was landing instead of crashing… I’m ready to actualize it.
We had four practice runs today. They went well, I’ve never felt quite so confident on big jumps. The Whistler bike park is the best of the best—there’s a reason people travel all over the world to ride here.
The amount of vertical trails is mind boggling. There’s something for everyone. Technical trails, flowy trails, you name it. Most notable of all, they have some pretty gnarly jumps. Even three weeks ago the idea of big jumps would terrify me, but now I feel ready…more ready than I ever have.
Chloe is talking over by the beverage station with two girls I don’t know.
One of my goals is to rekindle my friendship with her, and another is to be a little nicer to the other girls in the circuit—two birds one stone, right?
It’s been my goal for the past two seasons, but I’ve never managed any success since I always end up overthinking my approach until the moment passes.
Unsteadily I ask, “You guys stoked?”
I urge my voice to convey that I am, in fact, stoked.
The girls introduce themselves, but their names escape me as soon as they say them.
Hopefully I can catch them when its time for their runs.
Chloe looks like she’s on cloud nine—as if she’s already decided she’s making it up on the podium today.
She’s holding her head high as she says, “I have a good feeling about today!”
My smile is effortless for once. “I actually feel pretty good about today too.”
Chloe softens, looking at me like a proud mother. “You’re gonna do great, Addie. You just need to believe in yourself the same way we all believe in you.”
Taking a step back, I stare at my old friend, simply appreciating her standing there in the sun with her matching kit and her effortless smile. She’s inspirational. I want to compliment her too, but the words don’t come out.
I’ve always been such a loner, especially on competition days.
It makes a world of difference chatting with people and riding the Gondola without getting lost in my own thoughts.
Maybe these socialites are onto something.
Chloe, with her typical empathy, notices my unease and shifts the topic to a memory from a few years ago.
Time moves faster as we talk, and I’m hit with nostalgia.
It almost feels like nothing has changed—at least until she brings up Callum.
“So, I heard you and Callum are dating?”
“Well, we went on one date. But yeah.”
She looks at me with her eyebrow raised. “Hmm.”
Chloe prepares to get her bike off of the gondola as I manage to choke out, “Hey what does ‘hmmm’ mean?”
Dammit, she’s already halfway off of the lift, and I’m scrambling to get my bike ready for dismount. Desperately, I want to ask her what she meant by that, but she’s approaching the cameras. Chloe is first position today—I can’t distract her.
She crushes her practice runs and her qualifier. It might be the best riding I’ve ever seen from her. It reminds me of when we were kids, back when we were reckless together. My brain automatically starts comparing me to her, but I’m able to stop that spiral and focus on myself.
The first two practice runs are okay, but by the time I get to the third, I’m shredding.
This trail is full of big flowing turns and huge jumps.
The jumps are close together, so there isn’t much room for error.
Once I figure out the timing of it all, I’m feeling ready.
On my fourth practice run, I dare to throw in a couple tricks.
My nerves are still teeming, but in a different sort of way. The fear isn’t gone, I don’t think it ever will be, but at least it’s not suffocating me right now.
The event coordinators served us an epic brunch this morning.
Apparently they typically serve pretty good food between events at these things?
It’s news to me, I’ve always been too in my head to eat anything.
I still don’t know if what Callum said about everyone being a little scared was true, but I’m choosing to believe it is. It’s helping…a lot.
The guys completed their qualifiers last night.
I tried my best not to pay attention, but I couldn’t help but note that Reid qualified, and so did Callum.
Of course they did. What a strange feeling to care about another name on that list. I smiled at Reid when he finished his run, but he didn’t look at me.
Instead, he looked right at the camera, and I tried not to let it hurt. It still did.
I spot both of them in the parking lot, making their way towards the pavilion.
Riders are piled up under here, each patiently awaiting their free food.
Whispers of free flowing praise surround me.
I never really noticed before, but the community is genuinely supportive.
A big part of me thought people were pretending when they said things like ‘share the trail’ and ‘we’re not competitors’.
Of course, we literally are competitors, but it seems like the comradery isn’t merely a facade.
Everybody wants to win, but they also want to see the rider next to them do well too.
I’m going to be so pissed if it turns out all of my fears can be solved by talking to people.
Callum looks like he wants a hug or something, but I don’t feel like we’re there yet—hugging in public that is—or if we ever will be.
I want to make the effort and give someone, anyone, a real go, but I’m not sure it should feel so obligatory.
He heads straight towards me after finishing talking with the press, and Reid follows behind him.
Reid picks up the pace a little, he’s trying to catch up.
Callum still reaches me first, and he settles by my side once he realizes I’m not going to initiate any physical contact.
Reid is occupied talking to Cole in the corner. I’m surprised they’re being so chummy on a competition day—they’re each other’s biggest hurdle.
Before I know it, I’ve eaten a full breakfast burrito. I can never get myself to eat before a ride—even though I know I should. This socialization thing might be good for me after all.
The afternoon goes by fast, and before I realize it, the crowd is buzzing. It’s time to ride.
There has never been a crowd this size for the women’s main event before.
I guess it actually was strategic to have us go first. The mountain feels alive, like it always does before a big event—energy is pulsing through the air.
I’ve never experienced it this way though, like I’m beating right alongside it.
We make it up the gondola, and it’s sobering seeing how small everyone and everything looks down below. Chloe looks more sure of herself than I’ve ever seen her, and it makes my heart ache at the distance between us. I know I put it there, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. I’m such a coward.
Somehow, away from the noise, everything feels more manageable. The silence is consuming me in the best way. I don’t hear Robbie or any of the other media people standing around the drop in point. All I hear is the dirt under Chloe’s tire as she takes off.
My feet are dancing through the dirt in front of me in lazy circles like they always do before I ride. The dirt is perfect, a thick slab of unmolded clay on a pottery wheel.
It feels like Chloe started her run forever ago. What the hell is going on?
Most runs only take about eight minutes max. It’s been close to double that. I start to brush it off as my anxiety, but as I peel my eyes off of my lazy dirt circles, I see all of the media people whispering to each other.
Blair is gossiping in the corner to a girl I’ve never met. I catch the end of her conversation. “She’s too cocky.”
I resist the urge to knock her off of her insufferable high horse and try to steady my breathing. One more glance at all of the worried faces around me and I know this time, my fear isn’t imaginary.
Something bad has happened. I can feel it in my bones.
Immediately, my mind goes to worrying about Reid, even though I logically know that he’s standing on the sidelines witnessing whatever horror must have happened during Chloe’s run.
She has to be okay. Just a few minutes ago she was standing up here, smiling ear to ear and talking about how ready she was to hit her backflip. I heard about her nailing the landing four times today. Surely, she did it again.
But she didn’t. I don’t have to ask. The answer is all over Robbie’s face. He blows a whistle I didn’t know he had and ushers all of us riders into a semi circle. I’ve never seen him look so serious. It must be bad—really bad.
He starts to talk, but it comes out shaky so his assistant takes over. “Chloe fell pretty hard. She’s stable but she’s in bad shape.”
I almost drop my bike. A strange urge to take off running down the trail to check on her consumes me. That would be fucking stupid though. For all I know, she could be unconscious in the middle of the trail. I can’t risk making anything worse, so I stay put.
My forearms are shaking uncontrollably—knuckles turning white from gripping my handlebars. Robbie’s assistant is still talking, I don’t know about what, how could anything else matter right now.
There’s a set of hands on my shoulders. “Addie.”
It’s Robbie. I shrug him off gently, and he starts talking again. “I didn’t realize you guys were so close.” It seems he’s composed himself, great for him.
“We aren’t. Not anymore.” We aren’t close anymore because of me, but I leave that part out.
Wait, he said ‘were’ as in past tense. Is she fucking dead?
He catches the panic in my eyes. “She’s stable, Addie. But I won’t lie, it was a bad fall.”