There was no love lost between her and Kirby. They did not mesh as people. Oil and water.
And now that the Olympics had come back around, that tension was a spectacle.
But a spectacle did not help Mara. It did nothing but hurt her. She refused to fall into Kirby’s trap again. That had worked four years ago. It wouldn’t happen this time.
Kirby sighed, and for the first time Mara could remember, she sounded tired. “I thought it would be easier to work as teammates on these interviews.For real. No surprises. What doyouwant the narrative to be? Until just now, no one had said a word to me about media strategy, so I’m not exactly compelled to follow their lead.”
Had US Ski and Snowboard not discussedanythingwith Kirby? Mara and her agent had had meetings on meetings for months. They’d been pushing media training at her too.
“I’m going to tell the truth,” Mara said.
“And what’s the truth to you, Mara May? Because I doubt your truth is mine. What will you say when Janette Collins asks about what happened in Beijing?”
“You won. What else is there to say?”
“Don’t bullshit me. You gotta give me something. If you want the story to be about your triumphant final Olympics, that’s fine.”
“I’ve never said it will be my last Olympics.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Okay, Mara. I won’t mention dreadedretirementif it’s toospoooookyfor you.”
That almost made Mara laugh. Damn Kirby’s charisma.
“How about we do a little sprinkle of the narrative you want—redemption or legacy or whatever—and a teaspoon of what I want?” Kirby said. “Voilà. Magic.”
Mara could not even imagine what story Kirby wanted to push. She was sure she would hate it.
They passed through a cluster of trees and hit a clearing. The rest of the team had come into sight, which meant Mara and Kirby were skiing faster than they should have been for low-intensity training. It was impressive considering they’d been talking the whole time.
There was nothing low intensity about how Mara was feeling right then.
“I don’t like being told what to do. What to say,” Kirby said, filling Mara’s deliberate silence. “I don’t play nice just because someone told me to.”
That was all well and good, except Mara would be on the receiving end.
“What a shock,” Mara said under her breath. She tried to focus on her pole placement, weight transfer, and glide. She treated every training session, every run, every workout as a building block meant to better her technique and conditioning. That was hard to do with Kirby’s annoying voice in her ear. She wanted this conversation to be over. “As far as I’m concerned, neutrality is key. I’ll say we’re friends because that’s the path of least resistance, and that’s easier than saying you—and everyone else—are nothing but a bib number to me when thinking about the calculus of a race. You barely ping my radar.”
They spent so much of their lives together, in competition and on a team, and Mara always acted as if Kirby barely existed. Because it was an easy, underhanded way to hurt her.
And it did seem to hurt her. Kirby looked ready to scream.
“You are so sweet and agreeable around everyone else,” Kirby said, her voice slippery and scary soft. “It’s so interesting to seewhat comes up now that we’re alone and no one is around to see what’s really inside you.”
A weird shimmer of awareness flickered at the base of Mara’s spine, andlower. She pushed the sensation to the back of her mind and locked it away.
“You are so frustrating,” she said, panting from the effort of staying slightly in front of Kirby.
Nine days to the Opening Ceremony. Ten to skiathlon. Fifteen to the freestyle ten kilometer. Twenty-five to the fifty kilometer. And after that, all eyes would be off her. She could finish out the World Cup season on a high. And never have to think about Kirby again.Heaven.
“So no compromise, then?” Kirby continued in that poisonous voice. “Do you want me to tell Janette Collins that you overestimated yourself. Underestimated everyone else. You were too good to be on the relay, but we won silver without you. You had some of your worst showings ever on your other races. You?—”
“None of that matters anymore.” God, how false that was. It consumed Mara. It was all she could think about when she laid in bed at night. Every terrible millisecond of the Beijing Olympics. All her regrets. “I spent the past four years proving I am more than a few bad races. You spent the past four years proving you know how to make good TV.”
Kirby laughed.
Mara had heard Kirby laugh a million times. She laughed so easily, like it was such a simple thing. She had one of those laughs that was contagious and effortless and quick.
But Mara had never heard Kirby laugh likethis. Dark and sharp.
