CHAPTER FOUR
“Oh my God, I’m so full I don’t think I can move.” Reagan stops outside the hotel restaurant and pats her stomach lovingly. “I think I have a food baby.”
She juts out her stomach and takes in her view against a long mirror hung on the wall. “Do you think if I do this and tell Knox I’m pregnant he’ll believe me?”
Her comment stops me in my tracks. How did we go from stuffingour faces with lunch to Reagan having a food baby and then a real baby? These damn ladies move fast.
“Are you pregnant?” I ask.
She laughs. “Hell no. I just want to scare the shit out of him.”
And they say snowboarders are weird. “Well, I suppose he’s already finished his competitions, so if you give him a heart attack it won’t be the end of the world.”
I turn to continue down the hall notwaiting for her to follow. While Reagan and her brother’s girlfriend, Marley, are absolutely crazy I also love them. I’ve seen them before while watching Cyrus compete, but since this is my first time in the big leagues I haven’t had the chance to hang out with them until now.
And they’re absolutely brilliant. Reagan was right. I’ve finished my race. Now it’s time for me to chow down. And thatI did. I started lunch with a side salad and then moved on to a BLT on white bread. My mother would be horrified. I even ate dessert — chocolate cake with chocolate ice cream and chocolate syrup drizzled over the top. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a piece of chocolate cake?
Me either.
No one should go so long they can’t remember the last time they had cake. Someone should makethat a law. I’m young, and single, and free. This is the time of my life. And I plan to live it up... at least until I see my mother again. Or the next competition. The fact my body feels like I’ve gained an extra hundred pounds is probably why I don’t eat cake.
“Miss Wilson.” A person sitting on one of the short little benches provided every few feet down the hallway stands when I get closer.She looks friendly enough, a long sleeved team USA shirt and a pair of jeans with her brown hair thrown back in a messy ponytail. One that looks quick and easy, but you know she fussed in the mirror for at least ten minutes to get the messy look perfected.
At first I think she’s a fan. Someone waiting for an autograph. The sports industry sucks. Women aren’t asked for autographs as much as men.I try not to let it make me stabby… most of the time. But it does make me ultra-thankful when I have a fan who sits outside and waits for an autograph. A little hope this may be worth it. It’s not until I’ve already stopped with a big smile on my face when I notice the microphone attached to a small recording device she holds in one hand.
A reporter.
But hey, this is a two-week circus afterall. Smile and look pretty for the cameras, they say. There is no “off time” at the Winter Games.
“Miss Wilson, is it true you plan to attend the X Games in two years?” She shoves the microphone closer to my face to make sure and get the audio bite she needs.
I smile. “Yes, the X Games is one of the very first competitive events I competed in on a professional level and it’s one of my favorites.I will definitely be back in two years.” I nod.
“Will you be staying for the rest of the Winter Games or do you plan to get home now that you’ve finish competing?”
I nod. “Of course I plan to stay and support my American teammates.” I smile.
What a stupid question. We’re required to stay the entire two weeks and support the rest of our teammates. Although, that’s not why I do it. I would behere even if it wasn’t part of my contract.
“There’s been talk between the athletes that the women have not been allowed enough time in the team workout room before competitions. Is this something you’ve experienced trouble with?”
My eyes narrow, completely taken aback by the question. I haven’t heard anyone complain about not having enough gym time. The women’s team has their own locker rooma full two floors down from the men’s team. We can go in whenever we want. In fact, I should probably be there now rather than eating chocolate cake.
“No, I have not experienced any problems with using the women’s workout rooms.”
“Is it true women in the field of professional sports have started forgoing workouts for fear their bodies will become too muscular?”
What. The. Fuck?
“While I cannotspeak for all women who compete in pro athletic sports, I can say that is not a concern I deal with.”
I mean, yes, I have muscles. I work out…a lot. Daily. Sometimes mornings and evenings. You use your entire body when snowboarding. I couldn’t not work out if I wanted to be good at this sport. The notion is crazy.
“I see.” The female reporter, who should feel extra bad about the fact she’s askingthese types of questions, repositions her microphone. It’s so ridiculously close to my face she’s probably picking up my breathing at this point. What happened to women solidarity? “Is it true the hills and jumps during the snowboarding cross event were packed at a better angle for the female snowboarders, making it easier to finish the course?”
Now I’m really mad. Is she implying the women hadan easier run than the men?
She is.
