“You won’t mess up because you’re so nervous. Think about it—it would be weird not to be nervous,” Finn said. “Listen, I was so scared in the run-up to Beijing that I went way past nerves. I went too hard and was too intent on winning that last International Ski and Snowboard Federation qualifying competition. I think it’s what messed me up. I should’ve just stayed nervous, then maybe I wouldn’t have injured myself. Nerves mean you’re ready; I think being scared is worse.”
“Oh.” Sam felt a weight in her stomach. “I didn’t realize you were … scared.”
“And I didn’t want to go without you, of course,” Finn said.
“Yeah, yeah, blame me why don’t ya!” Sam cradled the waffle in her hands, enjoying the heat and the sweet smell.
“Well, there was an element of that,” Finn said. “Just a little.”
Sam glanced up at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, but don’t tell your dad.”
“I won’t.” Sam looked away. Finn wasn’t himself. She wished she could blame it on the Games, but it wasn’t just that. It was something else. Ever since she’d gotten here, he’d been a little bit worried. No, that wasn’t it. And he wasn’t anxious. She’d never seen her friend like this, like an avalanche waiting to happen. She felt that one loud noise could set him off. And Leo’s proposal to Becky seemed to have gotten to him. Well, the whole night had gotten to her too.
They walked around the market for a while, then to the edge of town and stared up at the mountains. Standing in the silence, staring up at the mountains she’d be competing on, Sam felt like it was a monumental task that she wasn’t quite ready for. Now that her dream was happening, a fear of losing was beginning to swamp her.
“It feels surreal to be here—I mean to be here competing,” Finn said as he wiped his fingers on the tiny napkin the stallholder had provided. “I think this is my first time to really feel the … pressure.”
Sam looked at him. His face was still as he contemplated the mountains. The streetlamps highlighted his cheekbones and made his hair look even darker than it was. He took herhand and squeezed it tightly and pursed his lips together, and although she couldn’t feel her toes by that stage, she didn’t want to leave. The hotel room she was sharing with Maya held no appeal for her, not when she could be here, in the snow with her best friend.
“The pressure.” Sam leaned against him, slipping her arm into his so they were linked together. “Yeah, I feel it too but, Finn, we can’t let it get to us.”
“I know.” He sounded sad. “But what if we don’t bring home a medal, Sam? What then?”
“I don’t know,” Sam replied. “We try for 2030?”
“Really—2030?” Finn’s voice deepened as if he was laden with troubles.
“Why not?” Sam’s eyes widened. “Isn’t an Olympic medal the goal?”
Finn nodded. “I suppose. I just thought that we’d both have one each by now, and that we could …”
“Could what?” Sam held her breath.Was he possibly talking about their pact? Hardly.
“Move on with our lives,” Finn said.
“Move on?” Sam let go of his arm. “Do you mean …” she paused, not wanting to bring up the promise they’d made each other in case that wasn’t what he meant “… not …ski?”
Finn nodded. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Don’t you ever think about a life beyond all of this?”
“A life beyond all of this,” Sam said thoughtfully.
Whatwoulda life beyond all of this mean?
She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to picture what might happen if they won the medals they’d dreamed of since they were teenagers.
Would he remember their promise? Would he follow through on his word?
What if he didn’t want that life—a life with her—anymore? Would he go away and find a life with someone else—someone who wouldn’t tolerate Sam in his life? That was a possibility, one that she didn’t want to ever think about.
Opening her eyes she said quietly, “I’ve never let myself imagine a life beyond all of this.”
Finn shrugged and said nothing. The still of the night enveloped them both as they stood at the foot of the mountains that held the answers to all of their dreams, to all that they’d worked so hard for. Crunching footsteps behind them made Sam turn. Maya, swamped in a huge satsuma-colored down coat, was taking a picture of them, her bare hands pink from the cold.
“You guys won’t believe how cute you two look right now.” She slipped a pair of matching mittens on, her nose scrunching up as she did. “These are a nuisance. I forgot my touchscreen gloves. Left them on the bed back home. Me. Can you imagine! I never forget anything.” She joined them. “What are you doing out here? It’s really cold.”
“She’s right,” Finn said. “We should probably get back. I’ve a four thirty alarm call.”
