“Five years ago,” she added quietly. “The drive home from the Breckenridge qualies. Leo driving, Mom singing those country love songs …”
Jake looked away, jaw working.
“She always said qualies were her favorite.” Sam’s voice caught just slightly. “I’m not distracted, Dad. I’m focused—on more than you think.”
Jake’s shoulders shifted, like he might feel something, but he leaned backwards, as if he was suddenly burdened by emotions. His eyes flickered with a mix of sadness, grief, and hope. Sam searched his strong, angled face. Maybe he’d reach out, just once, like he used to, before everything changed. But instead, he raised his chin, his eyes on the course she was about to run.
“Land the 1080 clean, no flair, no distractions. Keep it technical.” Jake turned away.
Sam nodded as he glanced back at her, fighting the tightness in her chest. How was he able to do this—focus so clearly on the competition without thinking about Mom and how happy she’d been to see where they were today?
She watched as he stood to one side, scrutinizing the competition, his face still, his eyes slits. Then she turned her attention to the slopes as Lila Chambers got in position for her final run. The British woman kept her eyes on the slope and ignored Jake Harrington and Sam saluted her for that. It wasn’t an easy task ignoring Coach Harrington’s presence. Lila took off and Sam held her breath as the young woman zoomed down the approach, then up over the jump. Everything looked great, but Sam knew Lila had ruined her chances as soon as she’d gone into the air. She cringed as Lila seemed to lose her balance midair—she gripped her snowboard for a moment too long and paid the price. Her mouth grimaced and her arms waved wildly as she fell, missing her landing badly.
There was an audible collective intake of breath from the crowd as Lila crashed down, sliding and tumbling to a stop. She lay in a crumpled heap for a minute before moving slightly. Sam hugged her board and watched in horror as a number of officials hurried toward Lila, while a medical crew with a stretcher came into sight. Lila slowly got up, shook herself off and dejectedly slid down the slope to the relieved cheers of the crowd. The medical crew checked her over and she left with them, not even waiting for her score.
Sam swallowed. She loved snowboarding, but the sportwas unforgiving when you made a mistake, and you could get broken up really bad if you made one slight error. Her mouth went dry as she went through the trick she was thinking of pulling off. If she managed to do it then she’d certainly get a place in the final, but if she messed up then she’d be out. This was her final run of the qualifiers for the big air section, and while her score so far was good, she needed this run to be brilliant—if even just to boost her confidence. Pulling her gaze away from the slope, Sam listened to the commentator. Gabriel’s deep voice rang out clearly, his concise commentary fair and accurate, and Sam was sure that Maya would be hovering around the media room trying to catch his eye.
But all of that didn’t matter now. Now there was Finn. At last.
A pleasurable shiver made Sam bite her bottom lip. Finn! FINN! The way he’d said that he thought the rule was stupid too … Oh God, the way he’d stared into her eyes as he’d said it. It had been perfect! So perfect! She broke into a huge smile as Becky made her way past. Becky smiled back and Sam nodded, the smile leaving her face.
Becky had completed two of her three runs and was already ahead of her on the scoreboard and definitely destined for the final. If she kept up this spate of good luck, she’d take the gold in the final, that was for sure. This was her third run, and she set off with the confidence of someone who knew she was winning. Sam watched Becky slide down the approach, holding her breath as Becky picked up speed. She flew up over the ramp, and Sam breathed out. Becky executed a perfect frontside double cork 1080 finishingher run off in style and with a punch in the air. Becky was ecstatic, as were the other competitors. That run had just given Becky a shot at the podium—she’d already claimed her first finals place.
Sam clapped as they cheered Becky on. She was thrilled for Becky but her mind was racing. That was exactly what she’d planned on doing. It was what her dad had told her to do—had he told Becky the same thing? Should she do it now or would it look like she was copying Becky? Her dad caught her eye, and she waved at him, seeking his coaching advice. Originality was a key element, and she didn’t want to get penalized for being a copycat. She waved again, but her dad turned away and started walking toward the way down as if he was done with the competition. Sam’s heart pounded hard in her chest, her breath billowing into clouds before her. What was going on—wasn’t her dad, her coach, going to guide her? What was she to do now? Sam glanced around. There was no one near her, not one of her teammates. What would Finn say?
Her eyes skimmed the crowd, searching for Finn. Finally, she spotted him, near the break in the barriers where the competitors left the run-off. His tatty orange beanie almost glowed in the crowd. Her knees went weak thinking of what had happened between them earlier. Her breath caught in her chest. It had all happened so fast, it hardly felt real—but the ache between her legs that was begging for it to all happen again made her realize that it most certainly had happened, and it had been so damn good. God, he’d made her come twice, twice! And this was just their first time together. Her heart pounded as another competitor set off.
Sam barely noticed how that competitor scored. She couldn’t stop thinking about how when she’d left the hot tub, she’d been sure he wasn’t interested. But then he’d followed her into the shower … and oh my God … the way he’d kissed her, the way his hands had possessed her, the way he’d hoarsely whispered her name over and over—it made her think that he’d always known exactly what he wanted to do with her if he’d had the chance. And he’d made that chance happen—and boy, he’d taken it with both hands. The way he’d buried his face in her, tasting her as if he were starving, God, just remembering it was almost enough to make her come. Again.
Gabriel’s voice rang out, announcing the score of the previous competitor. Sam blinked and shook her head. She had to stop thinking of Finn, and how he’d touched her … She shook herself again and stamped her feet, getting her blood flowing and warming up her muscles. She knew what Finn would say, he’d sayso what if Becky did a loop-di-loop-fandango and the can-can, get out there and have fun and do whatever feels like the right thing to do when you hit that ramp. But he wasn’t standing here with her. He hadn’t seen how her dad had practically turned his back on her as if she had no chance now that Becky was definitely on the rise. No, she had to try it. If Becky could do it then she could too. She just had to do it better. She had to get that medal. She clenched her jaw.
Finn’s voice rang in her mind,have funhe’d said, and she knew he was right, but competing wasn’t just about the fun. She had to make this count—she just had to. Her dad was right: she’d worked her whole life for this moment,and she just couldn’t let it be a moment of fun. She had this one chance because as much as she didn’t agree with her dad, she was afraid that one bad fall, or simply one missed opportunity, would be the thing that would take her out of snowboarding for the rest of her life—like it had for Leo. Maybe she should change it up—add on to the run that her dad had first told her to do—the run that had given Becky a place in the final. But was that trying too hard?
Taking a breath, Sam closed her eyes and imagined completing the run perfectly. She imagined going for the triple—then went back to the double—the triple was too hard. It was too risky. Or was it? Sam tried to think what her dad would say. Then she opened her eyes, took her position, and went for it.
9
Finn
The crowd had thinned out and Finn was relieved. The qualies were nerve-racking enough without them resembling the finals, and the competition was tough this year. Becky had surprised everyone with her flawless execution. Maya had caught the whole thing on her camera and was sharing it on all the team’s social media platforms. Becky was glowing and had almost flattened Leo when she’d run into his arms afterwards. Someone near him said that she must’ve been extra stoked because of her engagement, which didn’t make any sense to Finn.
He’d shifted away from them just as Coach Harrington joined them, patting Becky on the back and smiling. Finn frowned. Why wasn’t Coach up with Sam? He turned to watch Sam who was looking a little peaky. Finn crossed his fingers as Sam settled herself. He found he was smiling as he squinted up at the big screen to get a closer look at her. She had her eyes closed, doing her usual gearing-up ritual. When she opened her eyes, he was struck by how beautiful theywere, but also by the slight flash of fear in them. He’d seen Sam do this before, but never had he seen fear in her eyes like tonight. This was her first qualie for her dream—was she really that afraid of failing? Around him people chatted, laughed and complained about the cold, but he couldn’t move. Sam looked off, somehow. He held his breath, anger stirring in the pit of his stomach as the loudspeakers above his head broadcasted Gabriel’s commentary, and unnervingly, Gabriel was saying aloud everything he was thinking.
“Sam Harrington, tipped for a medal in this year’s big air and in the halfpipe, is looking good, if a little awkward today. Let’s hope she can keep her cool on this, her final run for this big air qualification.”
Finn’s heart leaped into his mouth as Sam took off. His eyes never left her as she flew into the air over the jump. Finn’s hands balled into fists by his sides. Gabriel continued.
“She’s got the height—definitely has hit the highest in this qualifier—this could be the triple we’ve all been waiting … No! What was that? Sam Harrington has followed her teammate, Becky Stanford. A double cork 1080—what a statement.”
Finn grimaced as Gabriel went quiet. He didn’t need to say that “what a statement”. Sam would be kicking herself, and she’d probably want to thump Gabriel for saying it. In a sport where creativity was applauded, bringing attention to Sam copying Becky was a real sucker punch. Something was wrong with Sam. Finn’s mouth went dry. Was it what had happened between them earlier? Had that thrown her off form? He stood still and watched the big screen as the camera followed Sam.
He stared up at the screen, hardly able to breathe, as Sam snapped out of her bindings. She knew she’d messed up. She was stomping away, head down, her goggles still on. She paused, waiting for her results. Her mouth was pressed together so hard that her lips seemed to have disappeared. Gabriel was back commentating, and Finn mentally tuned him out. He didn’t need Gabe’s voice and opinions in his head telling him—and the world—that Sam Harrington had just made the qualie, by the skin of her teeth, that her trick was lacking in her usual confidence and pizzaz, and that maybe there was some old injury possibly playing havoc now. Pulling his old orange beanie off his head, Finn hurried to the break in the barrier where Sam was moving away, her eyes downcast and her dad hot on her heels. Stopping, Finn stood in the snow as people drifted away. The event was over, and the sky had clouded over. It was dark and the lights were blinding.
Maya, in her satsuma coat, came over to him, her mouth pursed and her steps quick.
“What happened to our girl?” She slipped a phone into her pocket. “I’ve never seen her so rattled.”
“I don’t know,” Finn said. “She was really solid this evening, and then, right before she took her turn, I saw something in her change.”
