Chapter Twenty-Four
“Okay, ladies!” In what had turned into a daily ritual, Ms. Coolidge addressed them over breakfast in the dining room.
“Today’s the day we officially start bobsledding, and this’ll be the turning point that helps us weed some of you out.
If you try it and you’re not comfortable with it, now’s the time to tell us.
No questions asked, no judgment, and we’ll get you on the next flight home. ”
Misty’s heartbeat spiked. They’d been getting ready for this day since they’d arrived at the combine, and here it was, a week and a half later. She was excited and nervous at the same time. She made a pit stop in the room to rub her lucky duck’s head, then raced down to join the others.
This time, instead of going to the rink after a morning in the weight room, the group kept going to the bobsled track on the back of the property.
Ms. Coolidge stepped forward with a plastic bin in one hand.
“I need to emphasize again how dangerous this sport can be. When you’re in the sled, you need to have your wits about you at all times.
As such, no one is to bring their phones with them to the sled, and I don’t want anyone texting, taking selfies, or engaged in any digital distractions whatsoever on the sidelines.
We’re not starting until I have everyone’s here. ”
“But what if...” Angela looked too aghast at the thought of being cut off from her family to finish the sentence.
“You will be more help to your families or your bosses answering their call later than being injured in a crash,” Ms. Coolidge said firmly. No one else spoke until she’d collected all their phones.
“If there are no other questions, I need eight pilots.” Misty watched Tish step forward with other women who’d expressed interest in the position.
“The rest of you, count off to eight. One,” she said, gesturing to Eva Gardner.
“Two,” the girl next to her announced.
“Three,” Lily counted.
“Four.”
So it went until everyone had a number, and then their coach had them team up by number into groups of four. “Group one, with me.”
Eva and three other girls followed her out to the track.
Misty found herself in the fifth group, wishing she could’ve been teamed up with Tish for the first time.
She watched from the bleachers along with the others.
Everyone on the track put helmets on, then assumed their positions.
They took off down the track, vaulted themselves into the sled, and disappeared into a tunnel.
A few minutes later, the sled came roaring back.
“Group two!” Ms. Coolidge called as the first four got out.
Tish was part of it, and Misty flashed her a thumbs-up on the walk to the ice. She followed Tish’s bright coat to a position on the side. She was tempted to cheer or start a chant, but maybe now wasn’t the time.
“How was it?” she asked the girls from the first group once the sled was out of sight.
Eva ignored her, but her greenish eyes looked wider and brighter than usual. Vanessa all but bounced up to answer the question. “Scary at first, but now I kind of want to do it again.”
“And you will. We all will.” Misty took a deep breath.
Group three was up and about halfway around the track by the time Tish’s group got back to the bleachers. “How’d you do?” she asked.
“It was tricky not to get swept up in the momentum of—”
“Get in!” Ms. Coolidge shouted from the track.
Her outburst attracted everyone’s attention. One of the girls—it was too far to tell who—was now about halfway in the sled, but was obviously far behind the others. She lowered herself into the seat just as it sped out of sight, and the group on the sidelines let out a collective breath.
“Anyway, as we’ve learned lately, the sled is fucking heavy. But I felt myself speeding up from the momentum of it, and it was hard not to get swept up in it. I can’t wait to go again.”
The sled returned to the starting line, and everyone climbed out stiffly. There was a long pause before Ms. Coolidge called group four, and group three returned to the bleachers with chagrined expressions.
“Everybody okay? We’re all learning here,” Misty offered.
“I was a little...surprised when we took off like that.” The speaker’s cheeks were red, and evidently not just from the cold: She wore a coat that hit her at mid-thigh, but it didn’t hide the telltale shadows down both legs.
Another girl from the group had a large stain across the back of her coat and a strong stink-eye. Lily, on the other hand, shrugged. “Could’ve happened to any of us. I thought it would be me for a minute there.”
“I peed myself too,” someone else whispered.
“It’s gonna happen, so sorry in advance to whoever’s in front of me,” Angela said matter-of-factly. “Giving birth was murder on my pelvic floor.”
Group three girl, whose name Misty had never caught, looked less than reassured. “Yeah, but we probably handed her a reason not to choose any of us for the team. Getting in late, wetting the sled... She’s not going to like that.”
“If you’re not peeing constantly by now, you’re doing this wrong.
” That line over halfway down Misty’s water bottle had always amused her but suddenly struck an ominous note between this and the water she’d gulped after their strength session.
Would she be able to get all her layers (lined leggings, a second pair of leggings, and snow pants) off in time to pee before her group was up?
She didn’t get to find out. The fourth group had taken their turn around the track through the conversation, and now hers was being called forward.
“You got this!” Tish said as they got up.
“Thanks.” Misty had been impatient to get going, but now, she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.
There was nothing she could do but follow her groupmates onto the track.
Ms. Coolidge handed out helmets, and she did her best to stuff the hat covering her topknot into it.
The other girls seemed to fare only slightly better, and Tallulah slid hers on neatly over her braid.
“Everybody ready?” Ms. Coolidge asked once the last girl had lowered her hands.
“Ready!” Misty’s hair felt like it was sitting weirdly on her head under the helmet, but this was no time to complain.
“Ready!” the others echoed.
“Okay, line up. Let’s get our pilot in front. You two”—she pointed at Misty and Tallulah—“will be in the middle, and you, in the red coat, will be on brakes.”
They assumed the positions. “One, two, three, go!”
They surged forward, Misty in the position she’d learned all those weeks ago. Unlike at the gym and on the ice, the weight of the sled and the angle of the track partially carried them. Misty leaped up as they’d been learning in the rink, and the others climbed in around her.
“Oh, my God!” Similar screams went up all around her, and quite rightly. This was faster and scarier than any roller coaster Misty had ever been on, and she immediately understood how her unfortunate competitor could have been startled into losing bladder control.
For one horrible moment as they rounded a corner, Misty was sure she was going to go flying out and land with a broken body in the barren wilderness.
But they stayed on track, and she stayed in both the sled and the moment.
There was only the speed of the sled on the tracks and the warmth of a teammate on either side.
They rattled around each other, and the wind roared past their faces.
All too soon, they were back at the starting line, and the girl behind her was pulling the brakes. “We’re done?”
“You’re done. Now move along so we can get the rest of you in.”
Even the coach’s brusque words couldn’t burst Misty’s buzz.
She could barely sit still or feel her feet touching the ground.
She’d ended the past several days so exhausted she’d been passing out as soon as she hit the bed, but didn't imagine that being a problem tonight. She was too eager to go again and to tell everyone she knew, and even some she didn’t, about her first day bobsledding.
More importantly, she wanted to tell Spencer all about it.
****
At 5:30, Spencer didn’t go home or to his next session. Instead, he joined his colleagues in a crowded conference room in the offices off the fitness areas. Barry had called a mandatory meeting that had resulted in some of the evening’s group classes being canceled.
“You know what this is about?” he asked the trainer next to him.
Her ponytail bounced as she shook her head. “I haven’t heard.”
“Attention, please.” Barry’s rasp cut through the conversations all over the room. “In light of recent events, I thought it wise to remind everyone of our policy about relationships with clients. The short version is, keep it professional.”
A buzz went up around the room, and Kurt’s name broke through a few times.
Spencer tried not to squirm. This didn’t bode well for his friend’s return at the end of the probationary period, if that was even going to happen anymore.
How much had his reputation with his clients overshadowed his prowess as a gold-tier trainer?
“I can see how that’s not always easy,” Barry continued.
“We meet these people at pivotal times in their lives. They’re getting ready for a major event, or making a fundamental life change, and they’re trusting you with something important.
To help them get ready, you have to learn all sorts of things about them from their vital statistics to their athletic abilities to their food allergies. ”
The same questions Spencer had asked Misty when she was getting ready for her own major event. The tiny pit in his stomach from the unexpected meeting grew a little bigger. Was he about to get busted? Had Barry or someone else heard Kurt’s locker room outburst?
“Between learning all these personal things about them and being together so often in such a short period of time, it can be easy to get the impression that a deep connection is being formed. But I need to emphasize that it’s not. You’re doing your jobs, nothing less, and especially nothing more.”
Was that what had happened with him and Misty?
Had he gotten so sucked into preparations for her tryout that he’d tricked himself into thinking something bigger was happening?
Well, it had been several days since they’d last talked.
.. He should feel better about being sure he’d keep his job but somehow didn’t.
His seat in the middle of the room let him slip his phone out of his pocket unnoticed.
His texts with Misty had started out professionally enough with reminders of sessions or letting each other know if they were running late.
But as time passed, they’d devolved into something that couldn’t be justified under the rule of the gym.
He surreptitiously deleted the thread, lest Barry ask to see people’s phones.
His supervisor was still talking. “It’s your responsibility to maintain that boundary if a client tries to push it, say, by asking to meet outside of gym hours or for extra hands-on help stretching, especially parts that were not part of the program.
If they don’t listen, or if you feel this is crossing lines into sexual harassment, come to me so we can sort it out. Any questions?”
Hector raised his hand from the front row. “What if we get asked out in the middle of a session?”
“You decline and remind them that this is a working relationship. If they’re not okay with that, we’ll assign them to someone else.”
“What if someone specifically asks for us?” Emily asked.
“That’s allowed but not guaranteed, depending on their trainer of choice’s schedule.
We also reserve the right to ask why they want this specific trainer.
If it’s because that person seems like the best fit for their goals, that’s better than fine.
But if it’s because they’re hoping for more, they’re out of luck. ” Barry took a breath. “Anything else?”
No one raised their hands.
“Dismissed.” You could take the man out of the military but clearly couldn’t take the military out of the man. Spencer might have laughed at the thought if the meeting hadn’t been so serious.
Emily stretched as she got up from her seat. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink after that.”
“Me too,” the guy next to her said. “Spencer, you coming?”
“Nah, I think I’m gonna call it an early night.
” These days, Spencer felt like one of those sharks that died when they stopped swimming.
He was fine as long as he was going about his days at the gym but crashed as soon as he got home, slipping into earlier and earlier bedtimes.
The earlier sunsets didn’t help...or so he told himself.