Maybe I could use McKenna’s PR experience in this after all because without my mother here, I have a strong urge to hit this reporter. Too bad she said she was too busy to come. She looked so pained by her answer it must have been a good reason for her to run out.
“What kind of question is that?” Reagan askes the exact thing I’ve been thinking when she stepsup to stand beside me, her belly no longer sticking out.
“The women cross snowboarders competed on the exact same slope as the men. There were no differences in the course.” It was the same damn course. My hands tighten into fists and fall to the side of my body. I’m too angry to think of a shakier answer.
“The women in snowboarding compete and train as hard as the male competitors. And to insinuateanything else is disrespectful to the pioneers of this industry. Snowboarding has only been an acceptable event at the golds for the last four competitive terms. There is nothing to indicate women are treated any differently on the field by the players or event officials.” Cyrus steps beside me answering the question so wonderfully it’s annoying. He said everything I wanted to say, but Iwas too stifled to do so.
He turns, giving me his trademark smile. Which I immediately scowl at.
Who does he think he is? Sure, okay, maybe I was a little frazzled. But I would have pulled it together. All the things he said were on the tip of my tongue. I was getting ready to say them…eventually.
And while I’m discussing annoying Cyrus things, where did he come from in the first damn place?What’s he doing sneaking up on me? How long has he been standing there? Does he know I ate cake without him?
The reporter takes a step back, lowering her microphone. “Mr. Hanson, do you have a moment for a question or two?”
I’ll give her credit. This woman is ballsy.
Cyrus narrows his eyes and leans forward. “Not from you. Learn how to treat people with respect and I’ll see what I can do.”
Her head drops and she takes another step back. “Of course, thank you. Have a good day.”
She scurries on down the hallway not looking back. Cyrus steps around in front giving me his best “I did good” look.
But he is so very wrong.
“What the hell was that?” I ask, popping out ahead.
“Um, guys. I’m going back to the practice spot. I’ll see you later.” Reagan waves three of her fingers and makesa quick exit down the stairwell.
Normally I’d be concerned we offended her. My mother’s voice would be chatting in my head about how rude I have been to have a fight with Cyrus in the middle the hallway. But she’s not here and he is. He is going down.
“What you mean?” he asks like a moron.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Apparently not. Maybe you can spell it out for me.” His voice risesin irritation.
Fine. He wants me to spell it out for him. I will. “I had it under control with the reporter. Where do you get off walking up and acting like you have to defend the entire female species?” I don’t need him to take care of me.
“You’re a sex, Charlie. Not a species.”
This man is testing my patience. “No, when it comes to men and women, we are definitely different species.”
Cyrusthrows his arms up in the air with a disgruntled sound. “I don’t get you women. What are we supposed to do? You get upset if we don’t stick up for you, and you get pissy if we do stick up for you.”
“It’s simple. You should stick up for me when I want you to stick up for me.”
His eyes widen. “And how would I know when that is?”
“Because…” I cross my arms. “I’ll tell you.”
He grunts. “No youwon’t. You’re too stubborn and prideful.”
I gasp. “Did you call me stubborn and prideful?”
“Has your hearing gone bad now, too?”
This time my eyes widen in disbelief. I slip a few steps closer to the wallpapered hallway, leaning one hip against the chair rail to balance myself lest I fall over from anger. “Would you have done that for one your male counterparts?”
