Or maybe it is. I’ve never really understood how maleswork that way.
“Stop looking at me weird. Come sit on the bed.”
“Yes, sir.” I fake salute and sit beside him in the little space he’s carved out by moving his equipment to the side.
The room is quiet for five minutes as Cyrus sits peacefully with his eyes closed. To help, I close my eyes too and visualize him crossing the finish line a full two minutes before everybody else. More positive auracan’t hurt.
He sighs, not opening his eyes. “Maybe we should have sex?”
Told you.
Men.
“No,” I push him on the shoulder. “Visualize your win. You have four minutes left.”
“Did you get my energy drink? You know I can’t race without an energy drink.”
“Yes, Cyrus, it’s in the team fridge chilling.” Cyrus won’t take to the hill unless he has an energy drink twenty minutes before he has to race.This is a ritual that totally makes sense. It’s one I follow as well. I’m pretty sure there’s scientific proof to back it up. If not there should be because I won silver thanks to of my perfectly timed energy drink timeline.
The four minutes pass in silence, nad I hope Cyrus is visualizing his win on the hill and not thinking of me naked. Nobody wants to be the thing to distract her boyfriend.At least not from something this important.
“Okay, champ. Let’s go. Pack up your stuff.”
Cyrus carefully loads his equipment into an oversized bag, taking time with every item and stopping to make sure each works one last time before stowing them away. He’ll have a whole day of races today. The bracket knock-out system used in his event is more detailed and extensive than what I’m required todo. Suffice it to say it’ll be one of the most nerve-racking days of his life. For him and me.
The small team kitchen is two floors down. We hold hands while in the elevator, but I let go as soon as the door opens. He needs to focus on his race, not answer a bunch of questions from the media should they get a picture of us closer together than normal.
The little room doesn’t have a door, onlyan open arch. I’m not sure if that was part of the design or one of those things the contractors forgot to do when they ran out of time building the dorms. You can never really know for sure. A small crowd, mostly of skiers from the American team, gather around the refrigerator. In between the snowboarding events today, the skiers will have their own competitions.
“Cyrus.” Isaac, a real douchebag on the skiing team points at Cyrus and me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing messing with our stuff?” Isaac gets up in Cyrus’ face and pushes on his chest.
Cyrus doesn’t back down, even when I try to push them off to the side to stop Isaac from hitting him. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Yeah right,” he snorts out the words. “One of you asshole snowboarders damagedthe ski team’s equipment.”
“Someone broke into the ski team’s locker room?” I ask.
A guy standing right beside Isaac, I think his name is John, speaks up, “As if you didn’t know.”
“It’s pretty shady to accuse a fellow team member of sabotage, Isaac.” I do my best to step in between him and Cyrus and this time succeed.
“We’re not on the same team,” Isaac spits the words at me.
“So you joinedanother country then?” The US wouldn’t be at any kind of loss if he did.
Being stuck between two men with heightened testosterone is not a good place. My muscles flex waiting to duck or try to push them farther apart. Neither of these guys have raced yet, so this is the worst possible situation for them to put themselves in.
There’s a steady clack of high heels on the tile floor. “What’s goingon here?” McKenna pushes her way right into the fray of athletes, her small frame not hindering her at all. She’s kind of ballsy. “Are you threatening someone, Isaac?” she asks.
“It’s not a threat if it’s the truth.”
“If you have a problem with Cyrus or Charlie, feel free to lodge a formal complaint. Otherwise this is unacceptable.”
“You can’t protect them forever. You walk around here andthink you’re as good as the snowboarders. The skiers made these games. We’ve been here longer and will always be here. We’re not some fad sport.”
“Think whatever you want, Isaac, but these are my snowboarders and you will not intimidate anyone.” She steps up right next to him, her nose barely coming to his collarbone. “This is a matter for a committee. Not something to be hashed out in the kitchenhours before a competition.”
“No, this is a matter for the police.” Isaac pushes his way past McKenna with a hard hand to her shoulder as she tips to the side. Cyrus catches her, keeping her steady.
