Page 91 of Racing Hearts

“This really isn’t any of your business.”

Sofi’s eyes flash dangerously, and she holds my eye contact, idly picking at her calluses without looking down. We’ve rarely gotten into fights, but when we have, they’ve been epic. I’ll be the first to admit I’m a fairly stubborn person, but Sofi gives strong-willed a whole new meaning. She can hold a grudge for years. This, coupled with her often very strong opinions about right and wrong, could mean we’re on the precipice of a fight that’s so massive, it will last for months. I can’t lose her for months. Right now, I can’t lose her for minutes.

“Look,” I say, “I’m sorry that—”

“Here’s the deal,” Sofi interrupts. “I haven’t seen you in six weeks and I’m not going to again for another three. I’ve missed you so desperately that you could probably tell me you’ve committed murder and I still wouldn’t walk out that door without a hug and a tear and a slap on the ass for good measure. So, do I think this is super shitty and pretty unethical? Yeah. Do I love you anyway? Also, yes. But I trust you to do the right thing eventually. So, I’ll leave it at that and I’ll see you in Toronto, yeah?”

There’s pressure behind my eyeballs as I pull Sofi in for another crushing hug. This time, impossibly, she grips me even more tightly.

“You’re the best,” I say.

Her fingers cling to my shoulders like she’s a bird and I’m her branch. “I know.”

“And I love you so much,” I whisper.

“I love you, too.” She buries her nose into my shoulder. “Also, you forgot to put on deodorant.”

Twenty-Eight

7 Days Until Pan Ams

I decide to do one last erg test. As always, Rohan catches it all on video: The intensity and triumph on my face as my legs pump out the final meters. The display screen moving slowly into view. Kids cheering in the background. Adrian yanking me into a tight hug.

It’s a personal best. The first one I’ve gotten in nearly a year.

I’m still watching the video on repeat—I bet I’m personally responsible for a third of the twenty thousand views it’s gotten so far—when I click my bike lock closed outside my mom’s house. Usually on Mondays I go to the weight room right after practice, but today I’m going to do a long stretching routine first. It’s what my body needs.

As I reach the door, salsa music blasts so loudly that it’s competing with the kids screaming encouragement in my earbuds.

I’m still grinning when I pull open the door.

Then freeze.

Inside, Mom is sashaying back and forth, hips moving to the music. But she isn’t alone. There’s a man towering above her, and she has a palm pressed to his sternum. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize the video is still playing because I can hear myself let out a scream as I cross the finish.

The man twirls Mom in a cyclone of scarves. She’s so lost in the moment that she doesn’t even see me standing with the door half open, mouth gaping.

He whispers something into her ear. She laughs, then tips her chin toward him.

They kiss.

I lose my grip on the knob. The screen door slams shut.

Mom whips around. The man’s eyes snap to my face and I register the familiar salt-and-pepper hair.

This isn’t just any man. This is Rob. Her business partner.

Mom’s hand remains on Rob’s chest, but pink sweeps up her cheeks.

I remove my earbuds and swivel my shoulder bag so I can bury my phone inside it.

“Katherine, darling.” Mom is clearly trying to sound casual. “You remember Rob?”

I nod and try to muster a smile. “Yes, hi. How are you doing?”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Fine, yeah.” He glances at my mom. “Would you like me to get out of your hair?”

She squeezes his forearm. “I think that might be best.”