Once the celebration settled, Lindsey gave Kirby a side hug.
“No Mara?” Kirby asked, even though she knew she shouldn’t. Mara didn’t do the team shit and celebrations.
“She bailed in the middle of the semifinals.”
“Bummer.” Kirby put a fake smile on. Mara had a regimented schedule. Watching your secret booty call win a bronze medal clearly did not fit in between light cardio, lunch, weight training, and yoga.
“She just doesn’t like sharing the podium attention.”
“Oh, I don’t think…” Kirby genuinely hoped Mara would be happy for her, but she knew she shouldn’t come to Mara’s aid. It would be too revealing. Too strange. “She was happy for you to win your silver. Disappointed about falling, but happy for you.”
Lindsey shrugged. “Mara’s a mystery. It’s almost time for the medal ceremony. You need to get in your podium outfit.”
It was the third time Kirby had made an Olympic podium. If someone had asked seventeen-year-old Kirby what her life would look like as an adult, she would have said she would be working somewhere in her hometown. The tag agency or the diner or maybe, if she was lucky, the school. She would still be stuck in her dysfunctional and bigoted family’s orbit.
She would never have imagined she would be stepping up onto the Olympic podium with a bronze around her neck, waving a bouquet of flowers, and trying not to cry.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Mara was hiding.
From her dad, who had started messaging the night before the ten-kilometer freestyle. He had a new job opportunity and wanted it to look as if he had her stamp of approval.
From her mom, who just wanted to make sure she was eating and getting enough sleep.
She was hiding from Lindsey, who had apologized for being snippy. The Olympics were stressful and didn’t bring out people’s best. According to Lindsey.
Mara certainly hadn’t been bringing out her best. She felt out of sorts. Trash talking and fucking up interviews. Sleeping with Kirby. Freaking out over every simple thought in her head that almost, maybe, barely winked at being afeeling.
She was even hiding from Coach Karlsson, shutting down in the practice run for the freestyle ten-k when it didn’t go particularly well. Coach Karlsson kept trying to go over the turns and course breakdown, but Mara had been a brick wall.
And she was hiding from Kirby. From thoughts of Kirby. Hiding from the press clips going around where Kirby said things like, “it’s a lot sweeter defeating the best,” and“I would know,” and “Mara doesn’t matter.”
Mara locked everything away. The good stuff, like the defiant interviews and kisses and the tenderness that had bloomed between them. The stuff that had made her feel free for the first time in ages. She locked away the closeness and friendship she’d been developing with Jordan, and Brandilyn, and Lindsey. It was too scary.
And she hid from the bad too.
She hid from her performance in the ten-k interval start. She’d been in a weird headspace, and everything had suffered. It had felt messy and imprecise. She’d tried new sunglasses. A green pair. But they’d felt loose as she’d skied, and she knew she wouldn’t wear them again.
She’d won a bronze. Another bronze.
She had enough to decorate a Christmas tree with them.
Mara should have been happy with a bronze. And, outwardly, she was. It wasn’t an unexpected result. Most betting pools would have forecast her to place fourth or fifth, so some would say she’d outperformed expectations.
But Mara wanted a gold. She wanted to win every race she started.
As she stepped up on the podium, the lowest platform, and listened to the Swedish national anthem play for the gold medalist, Mara’s mind strayed to Kirby’s medal ceremony two days before.
Mara had watched it on silent on her phone, with the covers pulled over her head, so Lindsey wouldn’t see or hear.
Kirby had cried happy tears during her medal ceremony. And Mara had wished she’d seen her race the finals. Mara would never get that back, would never be able to change the fact she’d left.
She’d never get the two days between back, where she’d isolated herself.
Queen of compartmentalization. Of hiding. Of being alone.
