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 isgnarly, 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.
37
He pulls away. I lean back in, and he holds up two fingers to my lips. They’re swollen and covered in rain. I want more.
Reid grasps my hand and throws it up in the air. Robbie and his husband, whose name I never caught, lead me up to the podium. I need to be more attentive to the world around me next season.
The results are here.
Blair nudges me. “Hey. You did great. Chloe would be proud.”
Water pools in my eyes. Chloewouldbe proud. My voice is shaky as I reply, “Yeah. I think she would be. I just wish she was here.”
She looks empathetic—something I never pictured suiting her. Maybe she’s not as bad as I thought. I realize I forgot to congratulate her. “Blair.” She turns to look at me as I continue, “You did really great too.”
As soon as she stops talking to me, I realize how many cameras are surrounding me.
My hand feels cold without Reid’s in it. My legs are heavy—as if I’m wading through a dream—and the wet sunflowers are cradled in my arms. My hair is dripping down my back. I can barely hear what the announcers are saying to me. Static fills my ears.
I can’t take my eyes off Reid. He’s standing in the pouring rain, smiling and snapping pictures with his phone. It’s an out-of-body-experience.
Robbie of all people comes over and gives me my third place clamps. Fucking third place at the coolest event there is. I can hardly believe it. “Congratulations, Addie. You deserve it.”
My heart clenches—I don’t deserve it any more than the other riders here. I could just as easily be in Chloe’s position, laid up in a hospital bed right now.
