Mara brushed that off with a small smile. She’d taken pains throughout her career to protect her peace, to isolate, to avoid every hard thought and feeling that didn’t apply to racing better, to being better. Nothing mattered but being the best cross-country skier. But maybe being the best racer was about more than optimizing her body, her intervals, and her nutrition.
She needed to listen to her own advice and take care of her heart.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Kirby feltlike she was moving through thick fog. Her legs were heavy, her head full of cotton.
Coach Wu was talking to her, and she was nodding along, but nothing was clicking. Other coaches moved around her relay partners, who were all pulling on their lucky relay socks, getting geared up. A wax tech was speaking to Jordan.
The mood in the changing room was electric. Relay days usually were, but she didn’t feel anything but sad. Which was ridiculous. Being sad about Mara May was ridiculous.
Kirby had slept in Apollo’s room, his roommate conveniently absent all night, but Apollo snored. And when he wasn’t snoring, he’d been texting Lindsey with the click-clack sound of his phone’s keyboard turned on. Kirby had wanted to wring his neck, but she also couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
“You’ve never acted like this about a relationship before,” he’d said once she’d come clean. She’d denied that.
She’d pulled up examples from her dating shows. The breakup with her most recent ex had been full of drama—rumors, paparazzi photos, shade online, an explosive reunion episode, which would air the week after the Olympics—but Apollo knew her. He hadn’t bought it.
Kirby’s emotions were already jumbled and outsized from the excitement and pressure surrounding the Olympics, from the panic attacks that seemed to jump her at random moments, from the whiplash of going between filming and racing. Adding in the messiness of falling for Mara May had been like taking a match to gasoline. And her brain had decided it was too much. She was shutting down.
She couldn’t snap out of it.
Coach Wu gripped her knee, and she jumped. “What?”
“What’s up with you today?” Coach asked.
“Nothing.”
Coach Wu shook her head. “You need to look alive, KB. Your teammates are depending on you.”
“Okay. I know.” Kirby slid her headband into place. Coach Wu left without another word. She’d seemed disappointed.
Kirby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to focus. She needed to lock in. She couldn’t be a disappointment.
Someone squatted down in front of her, and Kirby expected it to be a coach. She opened her eyes, ready to fake it. To fake being pumped up. To fake being fine.
It was Mara May.
Mara rarely assisted on her teammates’ race days. She rarely showed up. But there she was, lugging a carrier of water bottles. She handed Kirby’s to her.
“You race better mad,” Mara said, her voice soft but full of steel. “You race better with a chip on your shoulder.”
“I swear to God if that’s why you?—”
“Of course it’s not. But you need to go out there and show me exactly how fucking mad you are. Make me regret not racing in this relay with you, Bonham.”
Fire zipped through Kirby because it did make her mad. She was furious at Mara—and kind of heartbroken—but mostly just outrageously livid.
“There you are,” Mara whispered. She picked up the sunglasses that were beside Kirby on the bench. They were the black ones Mara had gotten her. She’d worn them for every race, every run, every practice since Mara had left them in her room.
Mara gingerly put the sunglasses on the top of Kirby’s head like she was scared to touch her.
Then Mara left without another word, moving on to give Brandilyn, who was rubbing balm onto her knee, a water bottle and a mini peptalk.
Kirby tracked Mara around the room as she spoke with everyone. She was unsmiling, cold, and businesslike. She didn’t linger with anyone but chatted with all four relay skiers.
“Let’s fucking go,” Kirby said to no one in particular. But everyone shouted like she’d given a speech. Jordan banged her hands on the bench in a drumroll. Coach Wu nodded to Kirby from across the room. And Mara walked to the doorway, turned, met Kirby’s eyes for a brief second, and left.
