“Oh, we’re going all the way with it, huh?”
“All the way.”
The crowd parts as we walk up to the media tent. There’s one main interviewer, and all other media personnel are standing, cameras ready, to carry this interview back to their respective outlets.
“This was quite the unexpected surprise,” she says into the microphone.
I laugh. “For you and me both,” I reply.
“First of all, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” I say, squeezing Vox’s hand.
“How did this come about? You’ve been out of the snowboarding scene for quite a while,” the interviewer asks.
I stay silent for a beat, trying to decide where to start and how much to say. But then I remember the NDA I was forced to sign and how not talking about that event only added to my trauma. This story needs to be shared so athletes stop getting taken advantage of. Looking at Vox, he nods in encouragement.
“I was hired by Grey Patterson as the cross and slalom coach for the Patterson Performance team. Vox Montgomery was my primary athlete, and we connected in a way I wasn’t expecting. We tried to avoid it, but ultimately decided to pursue a relationship, and unfortunately, that went againstPatterson’s rules. As punishment, Vox was pulled from the competition. Without diving too deeply, I was given a chance to compete again by Vox’s father, Turner Montgomery. So, today, I’m riding for his company, Fall Line Boards, and am so excited to announce my partnership with them.”
“Does this mean you’re fully back to competing?” she asks, tipping the microphone back toward me when she’s done.
“I hope so, but we haven’t hammered out all the details quite yet.”
“How does it feel to take the win on your first event back?” she asks.
“I haven’t fully processed it, but it feels really fucking incredible. There’s a lot of talent out on that slope. I hope my win is a testament to experience and smart boarding.”
Turning her attention to Vox, she asks. “And what about you? What are your plans moving forward?”
“I have some details to work out, but I hope to be sponsored by Fall Line Boards as well.”
“Does this mean you and Patterson Performance, your lifelong sponsor, will be parting ways?”
“It does. I’m chasing more than medals these days, and Fall Line Boards aligns more with my values,” Vox answers smartly.
“Well, I wish you both the best. And congratulations again on your win, Connor. Welcome back.”
“Thank you.”
Vox and I exit the media tent only to find that Turner is no longer there. Sam points a finger toward a different tent. The one housing all the Winter Classic committee members and judges.
We inch closer to catch what’s being said.
“How could you pull him from the competition and expect us to hold up our end of the deal, Grey?” a brunette woman asks, fuming.
“I needed to teach him a lesson,Mandy, but the plan had already worked. The number of competitors and sponsors here istriplethat of any other event this season. Not to mention, the other athletes got to race against Connor Lang! It’s not like they were screwed because of my decision. Fucker at least did me a favor there.”
Vox and I share a look, sneaking ever closer, hoping to stay camouflaged by the throng of passersby who are oblivious to the argument of snowboarding politics happening behind them.
“We agreed to a thirty percent cut of the profits if you gave us exclusivity to Vox Montgomery.”
“And you got it!” Grey argues. “He didn’t compete anywhere else all season, and look at the turnout you’ve had!”
I turn to tell Vox we should go, that there’s nothing left for us here, but he’s no longer next to me. He’s striding through the crowd, heading straight for Grey Patterson.
Chapter 41
Vox
