Chapter Twenty-Six
Misty stirred awake at the sound of Tish’s alarm, feeling oddly unsettled and silly for it. It was true that she preferred a different sound when she set her phone’s alarm, but she should have been used to this by now.
The reminder of that weird-ass phone call and its aftermath came flooding back to explain her mood.
One minute she’d been flying high from the first day in the sled, and the next she’d come crashing down at Spencer’s bad mood.
He’d started closed off enough to appear downright chatty the day after the ice bath before devolving into doom, gloom, and outright meanness.
Maybe she could have handled it better, but what could she say to someone who was so resistant to encouragement or any positivity whatsoever?
Nothing came to mind as she got dressed and headed downstairs for breakfast.
“Good morning, ladies.” Ms. Coolidge addressed them from the front of the dining room. “If you’re here today, that tells me you enjoyed the ride yesterday and are in it for the long haul.”
Misty stole a surreptitious glance around the dining room. It didn’t look or sound noticeably emptier, but a few people, including that poor girl from the third group, were missing.
“There is no question that everyone in this room is physically prepared for what the World Winter Games entail, which I must say makes the job of choosing the team harder. However, before we make any decisions, we want to make sure everyone is also emotionally ready for what lies ahead. To that end, we—some other experts and I—will be meeting with each of you one-on-one over the course of this week. Check your email for your interview time.”
As soon as she stepped down, everyone’s heads swooped down to look at their phones. Misty saw that her interview was scheduled for midway through the morning. “When’s yours?” she asked Tish.
“Not for a few more days.” A worry wrinkle appeared between Tish’s eyebrows.
“Mine’s tomorrow,” Tallulah chimed in.
“Day after.” That contribution was from Angela. Misty was surprised to see her still here in light of all her worries about her family.
“And I’m last on the docket for today. What does this mean?”
Marla had given voice to what everyone was starting to wonder.
Were they interviewing the most promising prospects first and working their way down?
Unless it was the other way around, talking to the longest shots first and saving everyone serious until the end.
Or had everyone’s times been chosen at random?
Either way, her mind raced with the possibilities of what they might ask her about.
“Let’s go!” Ms. Coolidge’s voice cut across the discussion. “Four laps around the lake first, then it’s off to the track.”
Misty put her phone away and got up to join them. She’d told Spencer she was busy trying to make history, and now it was time to live up to that. As the cold weather and central heating were drying out her skin something awful, she put on an extra coat of Glossier lip balm before bundling up.
As usual, the cold air sliced across her face and shocked her upon first stepping outside.
Once they started running, though, it got her blood moving and warmed her up under her layers.
If she’d been inside, she would have been tempted to shed her shirt and do the rest of the workout in her sports bra.
Midway through the third lap, Misty’s smartwatch buzzed to let her know she’d reached a certain milestone.
It also showed the time, which was perilously close to her interview.
She passed Angela, who could impressively give what sounded like a step-by-step guide to cooking oatmeal in the microwave without sounding winded, and Sam, who was in charge of this session, to get back to the hotel on time.
It gave her a flashback of leaving high school track practice early to go to a dentist appointment.
Misty arrived at the conference room on time to find a pair of unfamiliar women waiting with Ms. Coolidge. “This is Dr. Emma Schindler, a sports psychologist we brought in to help us form the team.”
A woman with graying hair around her mother’s age stepped forward. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“And this is Belinda Suarez. We met when she was a publicity intern during my Olympics, and I reached out to her PR firm for help with this venture.”
With her dark hair and smooth skin, Belinda looked several years younger than Dr. Schindler, but still older than Misty. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Have a seat.”
Misty sat opposite the women, unzipping her parka and smoothing her ponytail as she did.
She wouldn’t have worn hunter green leggings and a black sweatshirt with a fictional high school’s logo to a job interview, but it seemed okay for today.
They would have expected her to be in workout gear, after all.
Ms. Coolidge went first. “Let’s talk a little more about your sports background than what you said in your introduction on the bus. How did you get into both track and kickball?”
“My best friend and I joined the track team in middle school, and I kept running in college after I got a little scholarship money for it. I didn’t run competitively after graduation, but then a coworker said something about his kickball league.
I always liked to play in gym class, so I signed up five—no, six years ago.
Wow.” Had it really been so long since she’d gotten into it?
“And what keeps you coming back?”
“It’s fun!” She didn’t have to think twice about that. “I love being a part of a team, playing the games, and spending time with people I like a lot but would never have met if not for our shared love of the sport.”
Dr. Schindler nodded. “I can’t imagine every minute of it is fun, though. Can you tell me how you deal with the parts that aren’t? Things like grueling training sessions, defeats, or difficult teammates?”
“I’ve been an athlete long enough to know that the training sessions are all part of the process.
When we’re running drills, there is very much a sense that we’re all in this together, and that makes even the toughest sessions easier to get through.
The defeats... Of course I wish I could’ve done some things differently, but I try not to play the blame game with the rest of my team.
I just try to learn from the experience for the next time. ”
She took a breath. “As for the difficult people... If we’re not working too closely, it’s easy to stay close to people I like more.
But if we do have to work in close proximity, I try not to give them any reason to give me a hard time.
I just try to remind myself that we all want the same thing: to win. ”
Belinda typed something into the tablet on her lap, reminding Misty of Spencer. “Moving on... If you make the team, your name and face are going to be all over the media, leaving you to get noticed and picked apart by people all over the world. How are you prepared to handle that?”
“I already put myself out there to some degree with my social media pages, both personal and professional.”
“This is going to be that times one thousand,” Belinda said. “You’ll be all over the papers and TV stations, and all that is going to be picked up by social media where anyone can comment on your appearance, your outfits, your performance, and the most innocuous thing you said in an interview.”
“I’m glad that hadn’t been invented yet when I was competing,” Ms. Coolidge muttered from her seat.
“Right,” Misty said. “Don’t get me wrong, there’ve been times when I thought it would be cool to be famous, but I know from Tish’s dad’s experience that it’s not always fun, that you don’t necessarily want to be bugged for a selfie or whatever in the middle of a dinner out.
I’m willing to go along with interviews, group photos, whatever. ”
She took a breath as she pondered what to say next. “As for people picking things apart online...I already get that to some extent when I do artwork for a book and the character I drew doesn’t match whatever image people had of them in their heads.”
Never mind that anyone who actually read the books would have come across clear descriptions of the race or body type she depicted in her drawings.
“It usually leads to all sorts of wars in the comments, and I stay out of it. I have to, if I’m going to work again and keep authors’ trust.”
Belinda considered this. “Should you make the team, what are your plans for after the Games?”
Misty’s first thought was that, after all the training and stress to get ready for this winter sport, a tropical vacation wouldn’t go amiss. But because that probably wasn’t what they wanted to hear, she bought herself a little time by asking, “What do you mean?”
“Some people go into this with a plan to use their newfound platform and exposure to draw attention to certain causes.” Misty was immediately reminded of the vegan next to her at the welcome dinner.
“Others want to become professional athletes, and still others are content to have this as one amazing experience in their lives. Where do you stand?”
“To be honest, I haven’t thought ahead to that. My plan at this point is to take things one day at a time. If opportunities for endorsements or more athletic events present themselves, that’d be cool, but it’s not the end of my world if they don’t.”
Dr. Schindler nodded. “Remind me what you do for a living?”
“I’m a freelance graphic designer and illustrator.
I still have some contacts from when I worked for an ad agency, and I design book covers and fan merchandise.
” She gestured to her shirt before continuing.
“I got all my projects out of the way before I left, and I can reopen for commissions after I get home.”
“Can you tell me a little about your family?”
“There’s not much of us. My parents, my older sister and her wife, and me.”
“Are they supportive of your athletic career?”