And of course, Mara got that question. Not Kirby. Because Kirby wasn’t expected to the be the first ever.
Upset of the century, every sports page had said four years ago. No one anticipated a repeat.
“Umm.” Mara scanned the back of the room like she was trying to find an answer. But all that was back there were faces they couldn’t see because the lights were shining so brightly. Her gaze wandered until it landed on Kirby. “It would be great, but I haven’t really thought about it. Winning the race is important to me but not because I’d be the first to ever do it.”
“Oh, I call bullsh—bull on that,” Kirby said before she could stop herself. “Mara, think of the Wikipedia entries!”
Mara shot daggers at her with her eyes. Kirby loved it.
“There’s a gravity around the race,” Mara conceded. “It feels big and important, but my goal is to do my best. It’s all I can control. Do you care about it, Bonham? Being the first to win gold in the fifty?”
“Aww, thank you for asking,” Kirby said sweetly, since she wasn’t getting the question from Janette Collins. “First times can be so special, can’t they? But ultimately, they’re rarely the most important. It would be cool to win it but not because I’d be the first women’s fifty-kilometer gold medalist.”
“Why then?” Janette asked.
“Because it would prove everyone wrong about me.” Kirby met Mara’s eyes. “And nothing gets me going more than that.”
Mara twitched like she’d been zapped. Like therealMara, the one she occasionally showed Kirby, was trying to escape.
“Have you always felt like you have something to prove?” Janette asked.
“I didn’t come up in this sport the way other athletes do. I’ve had to fight to belong, to have support, to continue to afford to ski.”
“I’ve heard you talk about your history with skiing and how you started. It’s a bit uncommon, correct?” Janette said.
“I was plucked out of a recreational, after-school skiing club when Coach Wu saw me at an event and thought I had potential. She took me under her wing and helped develop me as an athlete. I didn’t even own my own skis or boots.”
“And this unconventional start made you feel like you didn’t belong?”
“I’m queer, so there’s been a fight in my own life, in my own family, outside of skiing, to belong. I deserve to take up space. In life and in our sport. But cross-country skiing can be cliquey. It’s insular.”
“Do you feel accepted now? You’re an Olympic gold medalist.”
“It depends.” Kirby tried to borrow some of Mara’s steel spine. “I love my teammates. I’m close to most of them. Apollo James’s family has practically adopted me since I started training in Vermont. I spend holidays with them. It’s not usually athletes or coaches who make me feelless than. Sometimes it is but not usually.”
“Well, on that note, I’ve heard rumors you two are close despite your past issues,” Janette said. “You’ve taken potshots at each other through the years, most notably right before the Beijing Olympics, but pictures of you training together came out just yesterday. So how is your relationship now?”
“We’re teammates,” Kirby said.
“Are you friends?” Janette asked. She’d so clearly been fed this line of questioning. It felt incredibly contrived.
“Yes,” Mara said at the same time Kirby said, “No.”
A long silence followed their answers.
Mara looked green, her eyes wide.
“Would either of you like to expand on that?” Janette asked.
“No,” Mara said quickly.
Kirby took a deep breath. She could tell the truth, or she could fake it.
She could burn it down.
Or she could play nice like she’d been asked.
She’d built her life brick by brick. She’d had helpers along the way, but she was the main architect. And she was going to be the only one to burn it down too.
