Chapter 32 Thayer
THAYER
“Do it,” Kason said.
I twisted around to find him standing nearby holding his snowboard, the word Kincaid running down the length of the bottom, just like on mine. “Do what?”
“You think I can do five and a half rotations? Here?”
“Dude, I’ve seen you do it before,” he assured me, readjusting his goggles on his helmet.
“Yeah, when we’re just fucking around.”
He shrugged. “What do you have to lose?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I could wipe out. Break something. Land on my head.”
“Or, you could land it and win this thing.”
“And beat you? Why would you want me to do that?”
“Because you’re my brother. And, as much as I love winning, I’ve told you before, there’s no one I’d rather lose to than you,” he said.
“Are we having a moment here?”
He shoved my arm. “Fuck you.”
I laughed, but I knew he was being sincere. He wanted me to go out there and win this thing. The knowledge that I had my best friend—my brother—back would get me through my run.
When his turn came, Kason dropped in, pulling off the best run I’d seen to date.
The guys around me waiting for their turn went wild, seeing Kason’s flawless grab and flips.
Since we couldn’t see over the ramp, we looked to the huge screen and watched as he landed his impressive run, and the crowd at the bottom went insane.
We waited for his score, and a 93 appeared.
The announcer’s voice echoed. “A 93 for McCloud! That’s our top score of the day! It moves his total score to 181.”
On the screen, Kason held up his board with a huge smile on his face. I couldn’t have been happier for him snagging the top score in the competition.
The next four snowboarders dropped in. Ousterman, currently in third place, landed an 1800 moving his score to 175. That, unfortunately, pushed me into third place.
Knowing I’d need a 94.50 to pass Kason and an 89.50 to pass Ousterman, I really had nothing to lose. If I tried the 1980 and failed, the worst that could happen was finishing with the bronze. But, if I landed the 1980, I could push past Ousterman.
The announcer announced my name, and I moved to the top of the slope, making sure my boots were locked tightly into my board. I breathed in that crisp Colorado air before lowering my goggles.
The starter gave me the go-ahead nod, and I dropped in, rushing down the mountain and gaining increasing speed as I approached the ramp.
Since I’d always liked silver better than bronze, I took the ramp fast, propelling myself up and grabbing the back of my board.
I spun around once…twice…three times…four times…
I gave it all I had, spinning one more time before coming down on another half turn.
I bent my knees and landed it hard, speeding toward the containment fence and skidding to a stop with a spray of snow.
I spotted Giselle with her arms in the air and a huge smile on her face, jumping along with everyone else around her. I smiled as I unlocked my boots from my board, wanting to get to her as soon as I could. Kason appeared out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off my feet.
“You did it!” he cried. “I knew you could!”
I closed my eyes and sent up a silent ‘I did it for you, Mom,’ certain she was watching me.
Kason put me down as the announcer’s voice echoed through the speakers. “Looks like Caruthers put down the highest score of the competition with a 93.50!”
The crowd went wild as my name moved into second place on the leaderboard.
“That’s a total score of 180.50!,” the announcer shouted. “Welcome back, Mr. Caruthers! We missed you.” Despite passing his top score, Kason hugged me again, both of us jumping around in celebration. When he released me, I turned and hurried to Giselle, throwing my arms around her over the fencing.
“Congratulations,” she gushed. “You killed it.”
“Thanks.” When I stepped back, I could see the tears running down her cheeks. “Don’t cry, G.”
“I’m just so happy for you.”
I pulled off my gloves and wiped her tears with my thumbs. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” she said.
I took it all in. My second-place finish. My surprising top score. Giselle’s love and support. The camaraderie of my friends. I truly felt like I was on top of the world.
Giselle
On stage, Kason stood between Thayer and Ousterman.
The official moved to Ousterman first. As he bent down, the official slipped the bronze medal around his neck.
When he stood, the crowd cheered. The official moved to Thayer next and slipped the silver medal around his neck.
When he stood up, the crowd around me cheered.
My smile couldn’t have been any wider as I watched him glance down at the medal and then his eyes immediately sought me out.
His knowing smirk hit me deep. A year without competing, and he was back. And, he was all mine.
Finally, my brother bent for his gold medal, and never the humble one, he held it up for all of us to see. Such an ass. But I will admit, the moment he lifted Thayer into his arms after his run, I knew that they’d made amends. And, if they hadn’t, that moment sealed the deal.
“And here you have it,” the announcer’s voice echoes. “Your Big Air medalists, moving one step closer to the Olympics.”
All around me, cheers erupted as the three of them leaned together on stage, holding their medals out for the photographers. Thayer looked so happy, laughing and boasting his silver medal for the cameras. I was so proud of him. He deserved this. And so much more.