Chapter 36
The tension is suffocating over the next two days.
Between Reid and I, and between me and the trail.
My mind drifts to Chloe and her injury in every quiet moment.
It’s all too much, I’m going to explode.
Last night, I didn’t sleep at all. I laid there staring at the ceiling of the van, debating sneaking into Reid’s tent and asking him to unceremoniously fuck me.
Maybe then I’d be able to relax enough to sleep before the biggest ride of my life.
I tried to eat breakfast, but I threw it all up immediately.
Now I’m pacing back and forth, picking at my nails.
There’s only a few hours until showtime.
I keep envisioning myself on my bike with the feeling of wind in my hair as I nail a backflip with perfect speed.
Therapy helped last night, but not enough.
I wish I could call her right now, keep her in my ear while I ride.
Logically, I know my fear is never going to go away—at least not fully. I’m an anxious person, that’s just how it is. I have to figure out how to cope—figure out how to do things even if I’m scared. This is my chance to prove to myself I can.
With my hand over my heart and an ice pack across my forehead, I finally make it through my daydream of success without an image of Reid popping into my head. I need to concentrate. It’s time to stop thinking about my stupid crush and focus on the trail.
Choking down a banana, I make my way out of the van to face Reid. I hope he’s not shirtless. I’m not sure if he thinks he’s helping by making me fixate on the tension between us instead of the competition or what, but it feels like he’s intentionally torturing me.
I can’t remember the last time I saw him with a shirt on. He uses every excuse he can to touch me. Innocent touches—anyone could see them as merely friendly—but my skin feels hot every time.
Thankfully, he’s fully clothed.
He’s wearing his Blondie shirt, which matches my own. Mine’s a long sleeve, covered in brand logos, and it compliments my new hot pink riding pants perfectly. I look hot, and I can admit it for once without feeling like I’m doing a cheesy affirmations exercise.
I look somehow both feminine and badass at once. It’s a persona I always envied in other girls—I never thought I’d be able to pull it off myself. Now I really do look like a mountain biking Barbie with my long blonde hair and hot pink kit.
Reid smiles at me, and my stomach flutters. “Did you eat?”
“I tried.”
“Deep breaths, Adelaide. You’ve got this.”
My incessant pacing continues, and I complete laps around our campsite. Reid follows a few steps behind me. “Want a quick massage?”
I turn on my heels. “Absolutely not. No more touching. No more flirting. Don’t even look at me before I make it to the bottom of that damn trail.”
He throws up both hands and steps back slowly, but I don’t miss his mischievous little smirk.
Reid drives us over to the trail, and I fight the whole way to stay put in my seat. This is it. Once I’m up there, it’s do or die. The reality of that statement feels a little more suffocating every day.
Blair prepares to go first, looking confident as ever.
I find it within me to encourage her. “You’ve got this, Blair.”
The brunette looks as if I’ve struck her, but she sees the sincerity in my eyes and replies, “You’ve got this too, Blondie.”
She rode here last year—among the first women to ever ride Rampage. Blair offers me an assured smile before she pulls her helmet down. I can see it in her eyes before she drops in. She’s going to win this.
I don’t care if I win. All that matters to me is beating my own demons. Ride for myself, for Chloe, for every little girl who was told she couldn’t do it.
Reid is waiting for me at the bottom. I forced him to—he wanted to be up here with me, but I couldn’t handle that. Damien and Josie are down there too. I disappear into my own head and replay the feeling of being upside down with the wind in my hair over and over again.
The crowd is booming, and I can hear it clearly even from all the way up here. It floats through the air. It stills briefly, building again as the announcers call me out. “Baddie Addie is riding with a new kit today.”
“She’s stepping out in an all pink outfit! Last rider of the day making it a showstopper.”
“What’s that say on it? Blondie?”
“Yeah Blondie, I love how she’s owning this. Finally showing us who she is.”
“She looks confident up there. Can’t wait to see what she has in store for us today.”
Robbie isn’t here. He must be down below somewhere. I miss him, strangely—he’s become a sort of anchor for me.
The guy that is here looks at me like he knows me though.
He taps me on the back. “Hey Addie, I’m Robbie’s husband.
Robbie really wanted to be up here, but they need him down there today.
He asked me to wish you luck and let you know he’s rooting for you.
” He pauses to secure the go pro camera on top of my helmet.
“Hey, don’t forget this records audio too. ”
We both laugh a little. I honestly needed the reminder. Usually, I whisper swear words to myself while I ride. I’m gonna have to reign that in. He pats my helmet once he finishes and smiles at me broadly. “You’ve got this.”
It’s news to me that Robbie has a husband. I’ve always been too lost in my own head when around him to even think to ask. It’s comforting though, knowing Robbie actually cares. I guess our strange little bond isn’t so one-sided after all.
The replay of me hitting the flip runs one more time and as it finishes, I’m ready.
The countdown starts, and I make sure my goggles are snug in place.
There’s a sliver of skin exposed on my forearm, and I feel a tiny speck of water hit.
I don’t even chance a glance at the sky.
If I see a single storm cloud, I’m going to panic.
I try to convince myself the droplet was just in my head.
The image of Chloe laying in her hospital bed forces its way through my mind, but I shove it out before it can seep into me.
I shake my arms out, preparing them for the intense impact they’re about to go through.
Pulling my legs up, my tires start gliding down the first decline.
I’m picking up speed fast, too fast. I force my bike to obey, and it slows a fraction, enough to get through the first shoot.
It’s a big drop, but my technique is perfection.
My bike control needs to be flawless as I approach this next feature.
I almost have to stop my bike completely, and the sand is too loose for comfort.
I grunt out, “fuck, fuck, fuck” as my tire skids to a stop. I’m shaking my head, and I know the fucking cameras picked that up. Just in time, I pull to a standstill. I spare one second to look at the announcer to my left. It’s Robbie, and he’s smiling at me with two thumbs up.
This run isn’t about speed at all. I’m out of my element. I take an extra breath and feel a thick raindrop hit the top of my helmet. I drop in without another thought. If it rains, it rains—I can’t control it. I have to keep going, there’s no other way but down.
I can control my body, so I lean forward the right amount as I navigate a sketchy segment. A jump is coming up. It’s now or never.
Cranking up my speed, I gaze skyward as my front tire rolls up the jump. My head floats back as my bike does, and I spot the landing. The sky is grey—a storm is coming, and I need to beat it.
Another thick raindrop hits my helmet as my bike rights itself. I stick the landing, and three more follow. I have one more chute—a massive one—and I’m down.
One more inhale, one more risk. I crank myself to a stop once more.
The smell of my burning brakes hits me as I lean over the edge, taking in how steep the chute truly is.
I swear it grew overnight. The scent of burning clamps transforms into the scent of bandages and antiseptic.
Inhaling shakily, I try to remind myself I’m on a dirt trail and not in a hospital waiting room.
My breath sucks in, and I hold it there as I free fall.
My tires are moving so fast they can barely grip the ground.
As I’m about to lose my footing, I manage to exhale and recover control—barely.
Another guttural “fuck” escapes my lips, and I let it out this time.
This shit is gnarly, I don’t care if anyone judges me.
The crowd’s cheers are almost deafening. My head is pounding with sound. When I finally look up long enough, I realize I’m done. I made it down the forty-foot drop, and all that’s standing between me and the finish line is a rock garden.
It’s a breeze—my front tire lifts over the rocks with ease, and I glide through the wooden finish line. As I cross the barrier, the sky opens up and starts pouring down rain.
For once, the rain feels good. I strip off my helmet and let the cool droplets pour over me like a reward. My lungs fill with air for the first time in what feels like months. I start crying tears of joy as I throw my head back and take in the moment.
The crowd is cheering, ‘Blondie Blondie Blondie’ over and over again. I finally see the appeal of the limelight. I hop off my bike and start rolling it to the media stage as Reid jumps over the fence like he always does.
It’s raining hard, a relentless surge over the desert. His hair is wet, hanging in his eyes. He didn’t even attempt to find shelter. There’s a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand—they’re soaking wet, and he lets them fall to the ground as he wraps me in a crushing hug.
His head rests on top of mine and he whispers, “I am so proud of you, Addie.”
He pulls away slightly, just enough to look at me—I spot a little moisture in his green eyes. His thumb comes up under my chin and he wipes the tears from under my eyes. They are immediately replaced with droplets of rain.
Reid takes my drenched hair in his hand and shifts it between the pad of his thumb and forefinger. “If you can be brave, so can I.”
His big hands frame my face as he pulls me towards him. Our lips crash together, melding as one.
It’s comforting and consuming all at once.
It’s sublime.