Sam
Thursday, 12th February
“I can’t believe you’re still not going to tell me what Finn did to make you smile like that. You’ve managed to say nothing all day—it’s driving me insane!” Maya said, her head buried in her phone. “And I can’t believe I didn’t open the door a minute earlier this morning and snap a photo of you two. Your fans would go wild!”
The two women stepped out of their hotel, zipping up jackets and pulling on hats, ready to stroll along the snowy street toward the ski lifts.
Rolling her eyes and choking back a giggle, Sam pulled her neck gaiter on. “I am so glad you didn’t! It definitely wasn’t a photo you could put on Insta without the account getting banned.”
“Hey, don’t tell me that!” Maya raised her head, her eyes wide and twinkling.
“Anyway, what’s going on between you and Gabe?” Sam slipped her gloves on.
“Nothing.” Maya half smiled. “Having some fun, that’s all. I mean, he’s so damn hot.”
“He’s unreal,” Sam said. “And my take is that he’s very into you.”
“Yeah, he is, but before this I was into my beachy blond, all-American boy next door kinda guy, you know, a little preppy and a little built at the same time—looks good in Ralph Lauren and his daddy’s Porsche. But oh, my, gosh …” Maya let out a low whistle, fanning herself with one hand “… Gabe is all man—he’s got leaning against a wall off to a fine art, and man, does he smell of expensive cologne and bad decisions—hell yeah. He makes me want to make nothing but bad decisions.” She winked at Sam. “I bet he even has his own car.”
“Vroom!” Sam doubled over laughing. “I bet he does, and I bet it goes fast.”
“I don’t know though,” Maya said, wrinkling her nose. “I get the feeling that he’s far more serious than everyone thinks. He’s giving serious Finn vibes.”
Turning away so Maya couldn’t see her face glow with embarrassment, Sam nodded. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, he’s intense enough at the best of times.”
“I’m not into serious right now,” Maya said. “I just want some fun—and some of whatever you two were up to all night.”
“I’m not going to tell you!”
“Argh, you are so irritating right now.” Maya playfullypushed Sam. “And by the way, your personal Instagram page—the posts of you in that vintage suit—wow!”
“What?” Sam turned to her, her brows raised. “For real?”
“Girl, it has blown up! Haven’t you checked?”
Sam shook her head. “No, I didn’t have time—”
“You seriously cannot give me that comment and not tell me what is making you smile like the cat that got the cream today—whatdidthat boy do to you?” Maya shook her head in wonder.
Sam laughed. “I will leave that up to your imagination, but let’s just say—this girl is living her best life right now—and then some!”
There were no other competitors at the top of the course. Sam was early; this was the earliest she’d ever been to a finals, but this was her last chance to try for an Olympic gold, and she wanted to savor the moment. Breathing in deeply through her nose, she leaned her board against the railing, her eyes suddenly drawn to herOhanasticker. Running her hand over it, she frowned. The sticker was smooth, flat to the board as if freshly glued in place. Sam chewed on her bottom lip, her frown deepening. The sticker had been barely stuck in place the last time she’d looked at it, and now … she laid her palm flat on the sticker and took a deep breath. Finn must’ve done it for her, although when he’d found time, she couldn’t quite figure out. She looked up and surveyed the sky. It didn’t look good. All day it had grown darker and more like snow. Now, in thedarkness of the winter evening, the heavy, gray blanket of clouds made the edge of the halfpipe hard to see even with the defining blue paint lines and the bright lights. If they made it even halfway through the competition before the snow started, they’d be doing well. Her nose smarted from the cold, but deep inside her a fire was burning. She didn’t even notice Maya taking some shots before slipping away as the competitors started arriving.
Harper was the first of the other competitors to spot Sam. She strolled over, her eyes on the clouds. “Not great visibility.”
“No.” Sam didn’t move from her position. “These later event times, they’re tough.” She held her board in one hand, the other was warm in her pocket. She gripped Finn’s lucky stone, although she knew she didn’t need it. It was simply good to have something of his with her. Turning the soft, warm stone in her hand she looked away from Harper, vaguely aware of the young woman’s eyes on her, waiting for her to say something.
Sam felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth as Harper smoothed a hand over her hip, her face tight, her brows low. She seemed nervous. Sam had seen Harper’s latest Instagram posts. In every photo Harper had been decked head to toe in fresh Salvaro gear, the spoils of her latest sponsorship deal. Sam allowed the smile to surface. Harper had looked great, no, she’d looked amazing. The pressure was on, Sam realized. Salvaro had chosen Harper, and now she couldn’t fail. Harper was clearly on edge. Sam didn’t want to add to Harper’s discomfort, after all, there was no point in being bitter about it, not now when they’d bigger things to think about.
“I love your Instagram—I think you’re perfect forSalvaro,” Sam said, her voice as smooth as fresh powder as Harper chewed on a fingernail. “Best of luck. See ya later.” She shifted her board in her grasp and moved away from Harper, eager to get away from the nervous energy Harper was radiating. It was very off-putting, and she didn’t need to try competing against that as well as the course.
Lowering her head, Sam sniffed and took a half glance at the course again. She could easily do this—in her sleep. She knew it. But what was even easier was to guess what Harper … and Becky would do. They were predictable, and with the weather the way it was, she was sure she was right. All she had to do was relax, remember that she loved what she did, and have fun.
Marching toward the back wall as the area became more and more busy with athletes and their teams, Sam brushed shoulders with another competitor. Staggering slightly, she automatically called out, “Sorry!”
“No worries.” Becky’s warm voice made Sam look up. She adjusted her glove as Sam blinked.
“Oh, I didn’t mean that.”
