“Wait,” Kirby interrupted. Entersome people. Kirby had been stepping all over her answers from the beginning of the interview, and Mara was tired of it. “Am I the bride to Mara’s bridesmaid in this scenario? I like that,” Kirby continued. “A bride. Better than what I’m usually called.”
“And what’s that?” Janette said.
“A thief. I robbed the sport’s precious star ofhergold medal in her best event. Snatched it right out of her hands at the finish line.”
Mara sent Kirby anotherwhat-the-fucklook. “You didn’t steal anything. I lost gas at the end. You made the right move at the right time to beat me. That’s part of competing.”
That was what Mara was supposed to say. And on the surface, it was the truth.
Almost the truth.
Mara had thought she’d had the gold in the bag until the very end. She’d slowed down because she’d been gassed, yes, but also because she never expected Kirby to be able to challenge her on the final climb and straightaway. When she’d realized it was Kirby who she was drafting with, she’d immediately thought,If it’s just us at the end, I’m a gold medalist.They’d come into the stadium together, and Mara had already been celebrating in her head. She’d expected Kirby to drop off. Anticipated it. She’d been unable to readjust when it didn’t happen. It had been a photo finish. She’d gotten silver. And it had absolutely been her fault.
Thathadbeen Mara’s medal to win. Olympic gold was all she was missing.
And if she didn’t get gold this time… Mara didn’t want to let her mind go there.
“Mara’s too nice. I wouldn’t be that nice if I were in her place.”
“What would you say in her place?” asked Janette.
“‘The twenty-fifth best skier won that day.’ I hadn’t even qualified for that event until I earned the discretionary spot during training the week before. I wasn’t expected to hit the top twenty, much less the podium. I knew I could, but no one else believed in me. She wasn’t worried about me. She had to have been thinking about Svea Solberg?—”
“From Sweden,” Janette clarified. Someone had done their homework.
Kirby nodded. “Who is one of the strongest finishers our sport has ever seen, or Lakyn Lopez from Canada who had won the World Cup Crystal Globe for distance races the year before.”
Never mind that Mara had won every distance Crystal Globe since. Mara had also hit the podium for every fifty-k she’d raced since the new distance had been implemented. But she couldn’t unclench her teeth fast enough to get the words out.
She started going through her checklist to calm down.
Seven days to the Opening Ceremony.
Eight until her first event, the skiathlon, where she would race twenty kilometers, ten in classic style and ten in freestyle. Twenty-three days until the fifty kilometer and the end of her Olympic career.
“She wasn’t worried about little Kirby Bonham from Bumfu—Bumfiddle, Minnesota,” Kirby said.
Mara’s brain felt fuzzy. “That’s not true.”
It wassotrue. Mara hadn’t given Kirby a second thought before that race. She’d literally said so during the press conference. She’d said she didn’tseeKirby Bonham. Kirby didn’tmatter to her in the least. She hadn’t paid attention to her teammates’ successes or failures as long as they didn’t affect her.
Well, Kirby’s success had certainly affected Mara.
“Mara knows to watch for me now. I’ve beaten her more than once since then.”
Mara’s face distorted into something ugly against her will. The interview had gone so off the rails. She struggled with interviews under peak conditions. How the hell was she supposed to make it through an interview unscathed when she was getting pressed by Janette Collins and provoked by Kirby Bonham.
She wasn’t supposed to make it through this. That was Kirby’s goal.
“Three times. You’ve beaten me three times. And you haven’t won a race,any race, against me in two years.”
Not the best comeback, but it felt so satisfying to say exactly what she was thinking. A wild whip of adrenaline shot through her.
Mara wasn’t looking at the camera or Janette. And neither was Kirby. They were staring at each other instead. Kirby was flushed and her eyes were a striking, bright blue.
“Underestimate me again, Mara,” Kirby said, her voice dangerously soft.
Mara had had it. She’d spent four years trying to be polite and bland and boring. But she was also competitive. And everything in her rebelled at losing to Kirby, even if the only thing she was losing was a verbal sparring match.
