Edge of Glory Page 11

  “We?”

  “Yeah, you forget I’m old apparently. I was there at the beginning when this unholy alliance was formed. A bunch of snowboarders talked about boycotting the Olympics all together because we don’t like being bossed around by people who’ve never been on a snowboard in their life. That’s why they call Boardercross ‘Snowboard X’ in the Olympics. We wouldn’t let them have the trademark. They don’t know us or what we care about. They’re a bunch of dudes in suits making us go to meetings and putting a bunch of rules on us that don’t even make sense,” Corey explained. “Also, we worried they might try to make us wear some tight little spandex body suits.”

  “What? You mean like the ones I wear?”

  “Exactly those,” Corey said, then grinned as she thought of Elise’s long, athletic body in such an outfit.

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine why world-class racers would want to wear something aerodynamic.”

  “Aside from style and self-respect, no reason. But this right here, what we’re doing now, showcases the differences perfectly, right?”

  “Style over substance?” Elise got her dig in. “Probably sums it up pretty well.”

  “And don’t forget elitism,” Corey said.

  Elise rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

  “Still, we both strap boards to our feet and fly down mountains at breakneck paces. We have some common ground.”

  “Yes, if you mean literal physical terrain. They’re both covered in snow and angle downhill.”

  “And speed,” Corey added. “We’re all trying get across the finish line faster than everyone else in the field.”

  Elise nodded. “Similar objectives. Are you working around to a point of some sort?”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. Why had she followed this tangent down the rabbit hole? It didn’t take a brain surgeon to point out commonalities between ski and snowboard racers, but to what end? Their worlds didn’t generally intersect. She and Elise had never crossed paths before, and once Elise got back on track, they wouldn’t likely do so again with any regularity. Maybe that felt odd given how they’d only recently made peace with each other. So much buildup, only to fizzle out as they transitioned back into their separate disciplines. Perhaps she only felt pensive about the transition ahead.

  It always seemed odd to start packing snow pants and boots during the hottest month of the year, but the time had come for everyone to turn toward the southern hemisphere. She never thought very far ahead, but the pull of the next race always drew her forward. Usually she relished any chance to get back on snow, as well as the opportunity to hit the slopes months before anyone in the US could. Laid-back attitude or not, she lived to compete. She’d worked hard to get ready. Hell, between chasing Elise and getting pushed by Tigger, she’d trained harder than ever. By every measure she should be chomping at the bit to board her flight to New Zealand and leave all the emotional baggage filling the Olympic training center behind. Why was she spending her bike time trying to force connections that didn’t exist?

  “Hey guys,” a chipper voice called from across the room.

  All three of them turned to see Nikki jogging toward them. “You’re such good role models. I slept in this morning ’cause my coaching team had a USSA meeting. I heard some of the Olympic Committee people are there, too. Won’t it be cool if we’re all together again like this at the Olympics? Elise, I googled you and I know you’re a long shot for making the team this year, but you can do it. You’re working hard every day, and you’re super fierce. I bet you make it for sure, and maybe we can all walk in together at the opening ceremonies.”

  “Whoa, easy there, Bounce-A-Roo.” Corey hopped off the bike as Elise’s face turned beet red. “Slow your roll.”

  “Oh no!” The kid’s eyes went wide. “Did I say something wrong? Are we not supposed to talk about the Olympics? Is that a jinx?”

  “No, no.” Corey threw an arm around her shoulder and angled her away from Elise. “We have a ton of work to do before then.”

  “Work?” Nikki nodded with as much seriousness as her exuberant face could convey. “Right. It’s a job. I didn’t mean to imply we could just go the Olympics. We might not make the team. You’ll make the team, of course, but I never have before, and—”

  “Don’t stress out about the teams yet,” Corey said, more for Elise’s benefit than the kid’s. Nikki would make the team, and while she suspected Elise would, too, one of them faced a steeper climb. She didn’t want to draw any attention to the contrast. “Where’re you heading to train?”

  “Patagonia, with the development team. Isn’t that awesome? Patagonia, like the coats.”

  Corey chuckled. She was kind of amusing, or at least she would be if she wasn’t a threat to kick her ass this season.

  “My mom is coming, too,” Nikki continued. “We’re going to travel together this year because I’m still underage, and she worries about boys even though I’m way too busy for a boyfriend, but I told her you travel with your sister and always have, and she thought that was a great idea to help you stay out of trouble.”

  Holly almost choked on the water she’d just swigged. Coughing loudly, she wheezed a few times before saying, “Sorry, sorry, something went down the wrong pipe.”

  Corey shook her head. Wrong pipe, her ass. Holly had likely suffered from a flash of memories of all the trouble they’d gotten into when they’d started touring together. Traveling with a sister wasn’t anything like traveling with a mom, unless of course Nikki’s mom had a thing for older men and tequila, but she didn’t say so. “Sounds boss.”

  “Have you been there?” Nikki asked.

  “Argentina? Yeah. Awhile ago. I did some team training camps there between Vancouver and Sochi, but the last few years we’ve done our own thing in New Zealand. Patagonia’s nice though.”

  “Nice?” Paolo bellowed from the doorway to the cardio room. “Patagonia? It’s heaven on earth.”

  “Nikki,” Elise said. “You remember Paolo from Friday night? He happens to be from Bariloche, Argentina. If you’re training at Cerro Catedral, you’ll be on his home mountain.”

  “If you’re a friend of Corey’s, you’re welcome on more than the mountain,” Paolo said in grand fashion. “My family has a wine bar near the base of the mountain. They serve the finest cheese imported from Spain, and my mother makes bread daily. My father prefers fútbol to snowboarding, but I will make introductions, and you will dine there any time.”

  “Wait. You guys will be there, too?”

  “Eventually,” Elise sighed. “We’ve got to go back to Park City first.”

  Corey’s chest tightened. There wasn’t any snow in Utah this time of year, which meant Elise likely had more medical appointments before she could resume skiing.

  Nikki clearly missed the allusion though. Her eyes sparkled. “I’m excited we’re going to have friends there.” She threw her arms around Paolo’s neck. “Thank you.”

  “Friends,” Holly repeated. “Friends with Paolo, and wine, and Patagonia. Peachy.”

  Corey edged closer to her as Nikki continued to hug Paolo. How many women could Nikki manage to torque off in a few minutes? Corey simply didn’t have enough body mass to get between them all.

  “Anywho,” she tried to redirect in a loud, singsong voice. “How about those Red Sox? I’m ninety percent certain it’s still baseball season.”

  Holly and Elise stared at her like she’d shoved her whole foot in her mouth.

  “Not helpful, Core,” Holly said, under her breath.

  Elise nodded to Nikki, who continued to hug Paolo.

  Corey opened her mouth as if she intended to say something, then closed it into a tight line and shook her head slowly. When had she become Tigger’s handler? And when did it become her job to babysit Paolo, too? She couldn’t help that they’d all be training in the same location. Okay, maybe she’d introduced them, but it’s not like she knew where Paolo lived or where the kid would start her snow workouts. If anything, they sh
ould thank her. They could all work out together off slope or share notes. Elise would still have a snowboarding connection to steal exercises from or relax with when she got too high strung. Maybe they could trade barbs or hang out in a cold pool together.

  Her stomach felt like it’d dropped over the edge of the biggest hill on a roller coaster. Was that the emotion causing the schmoopy expression on Holly’s face? The frowny one with the furrowed brow? Oh God, did she feel the way for Elise that Holly felt for Paolo? Is that why she’d been digging for a stupid snowboard and skier kumbaya moment earlier? Now she’d found one, only it didn’t include her. And while it did include Elise, she didn’t seem thrilled by the prospect. In fact, her clenched jaw and the sheen of ice in her eyes made her seem more tense than Corey had seen her in weeks. But what could she do?

  She couldn’t travel back in time and uninvite Nikki to the cheat day party. Hell, if she could’ve done so, she would have, right after her seven-year-old-poster comments, but none of them could have a do-over. The only option on the table was moving forward. Unfortunately, Elise and Nikki would progress to the same spot from here, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  Nikki finally unwrapped herself from Paolo, who appeared a little shell-shocked as he rubbed the stubble on his chin and glanced sheepishly at everyone but Holly. Still, he didn’t seem any worse for the experience. The same might not hold true after Holly got ahold of him.

  “And Elise,” Nikki bubbled, stepping up as if she intended to hug her, too.

  Elise braced herself for the impact, arms pinned against her side, but as visions of the embrace flickered through Corey’s mind, she blurted out, “Wait.”

  Everyone turned to stare at her.

  “Wait, what?” Nate said, coming into the room. “What did I miss?”

  “Um.” Corey rocked from one side to the other, shifting her weight as if trying to find her balance on her board. “I was thinking about things.”

  “Things?” Nate asked. “Did you give yourself a headache?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m about to give Holly a headache, but I mean . . . oh fuck, let’s go to Argentina.”

  “What?” everyone asked at varying decibel levels.

  “I’ve been there before,” Corey said with a shrug. “They have mountains and snow. Works for me.”

  Everyone stared at her like she’d sprouted a second head, but only Tigger had the wherewithal, or lack of social understanding, to ask the obvious question: “Didn’t you already make reservations and tell the USSA and everybody you were going to New Zealand?”

  “Yeah, but plans change.”

  “Can you do that so close to departure?”

  “Uh, yeah. I mean, sure.” She turned to Holly and Nate. “Right?”

  Nate ran his hand through his hair and sighed heavily. Holly simply shook her head.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Corey said, her confidence wavering. “Other Americans will be training there. We’re not going to have to build our own course. And it’s not a big switch or anything training-wise.”

  “It’s kind of a big switch,” Paolo said.

  “New Zealand and Argentina aren’t far apart.”

  Holly slapped her palm to her forehead. “Core, come on.”

  “What?” she asked. “They’re both south.”

  “They’re two different continents,” Elise said hesitantly, as if she still wasn’t sure the entire conversation wasn’t an elaborate joke.

  “Right, but in the southern hemisphere, where it’s snowy this time of year. Same concept.”

  “They’re literally on opposite sides of the globe, dude,” Nate said. “Even I know that.”

  “Okay, well, Argentina’s closer, right?”

  “Relatively speaking,” Holly said as if choosing her words carefully. “But you chose New Zealand six months ago. I made all the reservations. We have a cabin rented. We’ve scheduled training sessions and slope time. We’ve got a team of techs lined up. You’ve told other boarders to expect you.”

  “There’ll be trainers and techs in Argentina, too,” she reasoned even as the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach multiplied. She hadn’t thought this through. She shouldn’t have shot off her mouth. Why dig herself in deeper? Still, the more she talked, the more she convinced herself. “And the youth development program will be there. You know, go team USA.”

  “Okay,” Holly said. “I’ll make it happen. It won’t be easy, but Nate and I will make this happen if it’s important to you, but we deserve to know why.”

  She shrugged. “Like I said, Argentina has everything we need, and it’s closer, and we’ll know people there.”

  “Yeah, and all of those things were also true six months ago, and a year ago, and two years ago, but you’ve trained in New Zealand for the past three seasons. Why in all the fucks do you need a change right now.”

  “The last few seasons sucked, okay?” Corey blurted out.

  Holly blinked, “What?”

  She couldn’t believe what she was saying, but everything poured out anyway. “My ranking dropped every year for three years. I know we like to pretend we don’t notice or act like we don’t care about rankings. They’re totally tools of the establishment, but you can’t call it a coincidence when I fall three years in a row.”

  “Hey,” Nate clasped his hand on the back of her shoulder. “How about we go somewhere else?”

  “Why?” Corey asked, then laughed. “You don’t want to argue in front of the kid? Or you want to ask me if this is about hanging out with Elise?”

  “Is it?” Elise asked.

  “Yeah,” Corey said, then amended her knee-jerk reaction. “Maybe. But not in the way he thinks.”

  She then turned to Nikki. “And don’t you get any ideas about my career being over.”

  She shook her head frantically. “I wouldn’t.”

  “Good. Because it’s not. I’m not phoning in this season. I’m not trying to chase tail halfway across the globe, either, and I’m not pinning my problems on our training habits, but what I’ve always done isn’t working anymore. Maybe we should shake things up.”

  “And you can’t shake things up in New Zealand?”

  “I’m sure I could, but we’d have to start from scratch, on our own, and why? The two people pushing me the hardest right now are headed to Argentina. There’s an inherent challenge there. Why not accept?”

  Nate and Holly exchanged a look of concern, while Paolo, Elise, and Nikki all awkwardly refused to make eye contact. It reminded her of those times in middle school when one kid did something to accidently embarrass themselves and everyone else tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal but were totally going to talk about nothing else for the rest of the week. Middle school sucked. She shouldn’t have to relive those moments at thirty years old with two Olympic medals and a handful of world championships in her pocket.

  “I’ve never pulled rank before, but at the end of the day I’m the one on the board, and I think Argentina offers the best chance for me to get better right now.”

  “You’re right,” Nate said quickly and patted her on the back. “You gotta do you, Core. Let’s wreck some shit.”

  Holly laughed. “You’re going to owe me many massages and margaritas for the work I’ll have to do to make this happen, but okay. I’ll make it work.”

  Corey blew out a heavy breath as the tension fell from her shoulders and excitement rushed in to fill the void. “All right, Argentina it is.”

  • • •

  “Well, Ms. Brandeis. I won’t say I’m not surprised with your progress. A year ago, the idea of clearing you to ski competitively before at the start of summer snow season seemed laughable.”

  “Thanks for your vote of confidence,” Elise said drolly, garnering a warning glance from Paolo.

  “My prognosis had nothing to do with my opinion of you as a competitor. Obviously you’re in top shape, with an admirable drive . . . ” The doctor went on, and Elise tuned out the pla
titudes, instead focusing on the way his wiry, gray eyebrows danced up and down as his facial expression fluctuated. She’d heard this speech before. Pretty much every milestone she achieved got met with surprise, admiration, and the inevitable warnings that all her progress could still get blown to bits with one wrong move.

  “As you can see on the latest X-Ray. . .” He flipped off the overhead light and indicated the illuminated projection on his wall. “The break has healed nicely. You can barely see a seam there where the fracture molded back together. However, there will always be some weakness associated with the bond.”

  She did her best not to appear outwardly bored. She didn’t tap her toe impatiently or drum her fingers on the faux mahogany finish of his office chair. She had to play nice with the man who would ultimately report to the USSA coaching team, but she refused to dwell on the possibility, or even probability, of reinjury.

  She wasn’t reckless. She hadn’t overextended herself. She followed the training plan even when it hurt, even when it drove her crazy, even when she wanted to do much more. She didn’t intend to abandon course this far in.

  “But you have to concern yourself with more than the bone. You’ve been off your skis for a long time. During recovery, your muscles atrophied significantly. Tendons tightened, and in some cases actually shortened.”

  “I haven’t been inactive,” she defended. “I’ve run a near full overland training course. I’m not frail or flabby.”

  “Of course you’re not,” he said, in the patronizing tone one uses to affirm a potty training toddler that she is indeed quite grown up. “You’ve done an admirable job of simulating the conditions your muscles and joints will be subjected to on the slopes. And we’ve come a long way in athletic rehabilitation procedures over the last decade. You’re living proof of the possibilities open to us now. However, no matter how many simulations we run, there’s no way to adequately predict every variable a real mountain will pose.”

  She nodded placidly. Did Mr. White Lab Coat and Loafers honestly think he had something new to tell her about what she’d face when she got back on a steep sheet of ice? She didn’t need a psychologist, a pep talk, or a safety lecture. She needed medical clearance to resume training on snow, and it irked her to no end that she had to sit through condescending small talk in order to get the green light.