“Mamá,por favor. Don’t fight me. I don’t like that you kept this from me, so let me help. You should have told me you couldn’t cover everything in time.”
“You already have enough going on with your recovery and—”
“Nothing’s more important than you guys,” I cut in,truthfully. “You know I’d take a bullet for all three of you, and just because I’m busy trying to recover doesn’t mean I shouldn’t step up and be there for you. I’d sleep better at night knowing you’re able to pay off everything and have enough money on the side to treat yourself to a few drinks with your friends once a week. I know Gaby is trying to help too, but she needs to save for her apartment for when she moves. And Val deserves to have some hot water in the morning and new books every month.”
Mom’s dark eyes glimmer with emotion, causing a knot to build in the back of my throat. “Diego . . .”
“We can either go around in circles all day, or settle the argument by you telling me how much you need.” I take another bite of the cookie, shrugging. “Your choice. But you know I’m stubborn and I get what I want.”
“So, when do you think you’ll be cleared to snowboard again?”
I fucking hate this question.
I also hate that we’ve only been talking about my injury since we sat down in the booth at the back of Heidi’s Corner. Don’t get me wrong, I love talking about snowboarding, but I’m not in the mood for that tonight.
There’s nothing I’d love more than to be hitting the halfpipe again, but, according to Dr Ellis, it is still too soon to consider riding. I know it’s the worst thing to do, but I keep lying to him about my pain. Like I said, the sooner I get back to training, the better.
Taking the time to recover from a nasty injury makes sense. What’s still incomprehensible is why the punishment needs to last for months. I think, truthfully, that I’ll be fit to ride again before the end of the month. No one knows my body better than I do.
Besides, if my career is over, it impacts everyone around me. And I refuse to let that happen.
“He doesn’t know yet, Tommy,” Jordan answers for me, as though he can sense my frustration.
I send him a grateful look before taking a long, much-needed drink of my cold beer.
“Sorry,” Tommy says sheepishly.
Tonight, it’s boys night. Jordan, Tommy, Wes, and Jake are sitting around the table to celebrate my birthday. We were in high school together, constantly hanging out and hitting the slopes on weekends as soon as the sun rose.
I didn’t exactly want to go out and make a big deal out of it – turning twenty-six isn’t even that special – but Jordan insisted, and, like his sister, he can be very convincing. It must be a Bradford trait, being tenacious, conniving, powerful.
None of these guys have changed. All loyal to themselves. All still living here and not intending on moving away.
I’ve often wondered if moving to another state was the right choice to make, but if I hadn’t made the change I would have never won those medals and be where I am today.
I have no regrets. If there was one thing that my dad always kept reminding me it’s that life’s too short to dwell on regrets and mistakes.
But I can’t help but reminisce about the old days when I see the five of us together again, and ask myself how I’d feel about meeting them every Saturday night to play poker and drink a few beers.
“Are you and Mina talking about kids already?” Jordan asks Wes, who’s recently proposed to his high-school sweetheart.
I try to listen to his answer, I really do, but my whole attention is fixed on the brunette entering the bar. Alara follows my sister through drunken patrons, slipping her faux fur coat off her shoulders.
Fuck me. What is she doing here?
We’ve texted all day, and amidst numerous cat memes andflirtatious messages that had me grinning like a fool, she never once mentioned she was going out tonight.
But, if this is Gaby’s doing, there’s no doubt it was a last-minute plan. My sister is impulsive, whereas Alara has everything sorted out.
Too many people stand between us, so I barely catch a glimpse of her hair as she joins her friends on the other side of the room.
Wes elbows me. “So?”
I need to get my shit together. Scratching my stubbled jaw, I divert my gaze back to my friends. “What?”
“The wedding. You gonna be here for it? It’s next August.”
I nod. “I can make that work.”
