“What a bitch!”
A man who’d clearly had too much to drink lurched to his feet and pointed unsteadily at the TV. “Come say that to my face, bitch, and I’ll show you—”
“Sit down, Hank!” Bob Jewell shouted.
But Sasha’s gaze was fixed on the screen, hurt and surprise on her face. “He shouldn’t have asked her a question like that. She’s under a lot of pressure. I’m sure she didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
But Darius wasn’t so sure.
“I wishthe commentators would quit talking about me.” Sasha didn’t want her fellow climbers to think she was stealing their limelight.
“You are a five-time world champion.” Darius put his arm around her shoulder. “If not for the attack, you’d be at the competition. How can they not mention you?”
“I suppose you’re right.” Sasha still felt the sting of Maritza’s comment, her hurt deepened by the fact that Maritza hadn’t responded to any of her text messages.
Megs must have overheard the two of them because she traded places with Creed and sat beside Sasha. “If Maritza and the other climbers get their feelings hurt because a reporter mentions you, that istheirproblem. Don’t let Maritza’s temper tantrum get under your skin. You’re the most celebrated women’s sports climber in history. You’re not at the competition only because some asshats tried to kill you. How can the reporters do their job without mentioning you?”
An image of Sasha from last year’s world championships filled the screen, as the two commentators discussed her career and her accident.
“You’re right.”
Megs patted her arm. “Of course, I’m right.”
Darius stood. “I need to make a pit stop. Can I get you anything?”
“More water?”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve got it.”
Sasha watched him walk away.
Megs leaned closer. “He’s a good man. I hope it works out for you two.”
“So do I.”
Rain brought a pitcher of ice water. “Darius said you needed more water, so I brought some for the whole table. We’ll get your lunch dishes cleared away. Is there anything else I can bring you—dessert, coffee, beer, nachos?”
By the time the table had been cleared and glasses refilled, Darius returned, a frown on his face, phone in hand.
“Is everything okay?”
He nodded, but the frown didn’t leave his face. He glanced up at the screen. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing. They’re about to start the bouldering portion of the competition.” Sasha explained how each climber had four minutes to top out. “The goal is to finish with both hands on the top hold in a controlled manner. You can’t just throw yourself at it, tap it, and call it a win. You have to hold it.”
The women’s competition came first, and though Sasha still rooted for Maritza, her heart was no longer in it.
Sasha is the past.
Even as Sasha rejected that idea, some part of her wondered whether Maritza was right. Was her career over? Was this attack the end of her life as a serious competitor?
Stop it!
The only person who could decide what kind of future Sasha had in competitive climbing was Sasha herself.
In the end, Maritza came in first, managing to stick an awkwardly placed sloper that caused most of the women to fall.
Sasha tried to explain to Darius what had happened. “They had too much momentum going for that sloper. Their feet swung out, and that threw them off the route. It’s hard to keep the motion of your body in check when you make big moves like that. I try to make sure one of my legs is providing counter-balance.”
