I needed to focus.
So far only one person had wiped out on the icy patch just over the crest of the hill on the second rise.
Skiers were losing seconds taking it slightly slower, but ending their runs clean. My turn was coming up in minutes. For the last week and a half my focus had been nothing but practice, getting my times down, and getting the runs clean. I worked myself to exhaustion each day, so by the time my head hit the pillow I was out.
“You’re ready for this,” Petyr said.
I nodded, and shook out my arms, and moved my legs back and forth — my skis sliding smoothly across the snow. I needed to stay warm and limber. The buzzer sounded and the next skier was off, and quickly disappeared from sight. I watched the stop clock, and seconds ticked, ticked, ticked, and it felt like it was starting to take too long, and then the buzzer sounded again.
A minute forty-three and seventy seconds.
That was the time to beat, that was first place.
I’d done the run slightly faster a handful of times. I just needed to do it again, and the first place podium could be mine. I just needed to place in the top three to qualify, but gold would be nice. It would show Petyr that I hadn’t been slacking, that I was still focused, and still had my eye on my future.
I let one of the event staff usher me over and helped me get into place. Petyr stood by, and once I was ready, he gave my shoulders a quick shake and a squeeze. It was our ritual.
I made sure my goggles were sitting right, my helmet was good and I took a few slow, deep breaths and I focused.
I listened for the first beep, and my skis started moving.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Go.
I took off.
CHAPTER 41
aimee
Everyone watchedthe giant projector screen.
It was Lukas’ run.
My family surrounded me. Mom’s hands were on Zara’s shoulders, and it seemed like we were the only ones holding our breaths. The crowd around us was rowdy—energized by the alcohol and the atmosphere. I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen.
He whipped around the flags at speeds I wouldn’t dare attempt.
One skier had already wiped out on the crest Lukas was coming up on, and I held my breath. Zara said he’d been practicing nonstop, that he was prepared, that his run would be clean and fast.
I just wanted him down here, I wanted to talk to him, see him…feel his arms around me. Mine around his. I wanted to talk to him and tell him I made some mistakes.
He crested the hill, and I saw it the same time he probably felt it.
My breath caught in my throat.
His left ski went out from under him, and the edge seemed to catch in the snow before Lukas was pitched head first down the slope, flipping.
Ringing started in my ears.
My hands started to tremble.
His poles went flying, one bending at an odd angle. His other ski popped off as he hit the packed snow of the course and kept sliding and skidding—plowing snow with the force and speed of his body.
