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 looksmore 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 overRobbie’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.”
I know what that means—she’ll probably never ride again. She’ll be lucky if she walks again. He’s not about to tell me that though. Not when I’m standing on the precipice of the same trail that issued her this fate.
We all know it’s a possibility—it happens every season—but somehow I’m still surprised. I let my bike lean up against a ridiculously tall pine tree and sit my ass down so I can try to breathe.
“Addie, " Robbie is talking again, “do you want to ride?”
It feels fucking insensitive for him to even be thinking aboutthat right now, but I’m sure someone is in his ear telling him he has to at least ask. They won’t make me ride, I can take the gondola down, but I already know what Chloe would think of that. I might be scared, but I’m not a coward, not anymore—I refuse to keep being passive.
I agree to ride, even if the idea makes me feel sick. At least I’ll make it down faster and be able to see how she really is. What a shitty day for me to discover just how much I miss her.
The nerves are back with a vengeance. The anxious monster inside of myself wants revenge on me for starting to control it. My heartbeat is slowly rising up my body, all the way into my eyes—they’re brimming with tears.
Robbie announces me, and I prepare to drop in as he starts the countdown. Everything is muffled, and all I can think about is making it to the finish line and going to check on Chloe. Her little sister came to watch her today. What did she see? I know Chloe always wanted her sister to end up riding too. Will whatever crash she witnessed today squash that possibility? Questions and worries are ricocheting off the edges of my brain. Before I get a chance to answer one, more come at me.
