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“This is the newest jump simulator,” Nick says, pointing to a machine in the corner of the room. “They hook us up to it and it lets us see the jumps in real time. It helps with your form and making sure you’re getting the most aerodynamic position.”
“Nick, this is so cool,” I say, but when I look at him, his face is sullen, his eyes turned down. “What’s wrong?”
“Lis, this is all really fucking cool and it’s an experience of a lifetime, but I still don’t want to be here. I have a ton of guilt about that. People would kill to be in my position and here I am bitching about it and trying to figure out how to get the hell out of here.”
“I know, but it’s okay to enjoy it while you’re here. It’s an experience that you can say you had. Think about it that way, rather than something negative,” I say, smiling at him. I get how he feels. I think I would feel the same way too. It’s a weird situation.
“Yeah, you’re right, Lis. I’ll try to enjoy it while I’m here, and I’m going to fully enjoy having you here with me too.”
“Perfect. Now what’s next?”
“Do you want to see the jumping area?” he asks, and my eyes widen, and I swat him on the arm. “Okay, okay, I should have known the answer would be yes.”
“Yes, the answer is yes. I want to see anything that involves the mountains and the training here.”
“But how about I take you to the secret area?” Nick whispers, leaning down to kiss me. “It’s the area where the coaches sometimes sit to take it all in from above. They film us from it so we can review things later.”
Nick leads me down a hallway and to a staircase. Heading up the stairs, we’re met with a wall of windows overlooking the mountain. Sitting below us is the ramp and there are a few jumpers lined up waiting for their turn on the run.
I see Nick’s coach, he’s standing on the platform, his arms crossed over his chest. The man seems to have a permanent scowl on his face. You’d think being the US coach who is also in line to become the Olympic coach, wouldn’t perpetually be in a bad mood.
“So this is Lucas on the platform right now. He’s one of the best jumpers. He’s totally going to make the Olympic team,” Nick says, his voice low, something we’ve both learned to do when someone is jumping. The quiet is to help concentration and even though we aren’t outside, he still does it.
“What’s he working on?” I ask, wondering if that’s something secret. Jumpers can be quite secretive regarding their jumps, wanting to make sure they’re at the top of their game.
“A quadruple flip,” Nick says just as Lucas begins to sail down the run.
We both watch as he goes off the end, completing all four rotations, but he over rotates, and the gasp that falls from my mouth is entirely on instinct.
Skiers rarely gasp or comment on a fall. They happen so often, and part of our training is to learn how to land correctly. And while it’s been a while since I’ve watched any competitive skiing in person, even I know what is unfolding in front of us is a nightmare.
It feels like Lucas is moving in slow motion through the air, his body a wild mess of arms and legs, flailing around, seeking something to land on, to stop the out-of-control spinning. He’s lost the ground and Nick mutters this exact comment as we watch Lucas.
His body crashes to the ground, and the thud can be heard in the booth we’re watching from. My hand covers my mouth, trying to control the shocked sound from spilling from my lips.
Lucas tumbles down the mountain, his body cartwheeling in a way that says he has to have broken some bones. It’s an awful sight to witness, and Nick immediately grabs my hand, tugging me toward the door to the platform outside.
As soon as the door opens, I can hear Nick’s coach bark out, “Get up, Lucas. Shake it off. You’re fine.”
But Lucas is anything but fine.
21
NICK
This is bad. This is really fucking bad. At a guess, I’d say Lucas has multiple broken bones from that landing and the shit storm that came after it. Yet somehow the coach is standing here on the platform, arms crossed over his chest and a look of what can only be described as annoyed disappointment on his face.
“You need to get the doctor,” I say without thinking.
The coach turns, sees me and Lis now standing on the platform, the glare he gives us hot enough to melt the fucking snow. “I thought you were off this weekend, O’Connor?” he says, his words like steel. “One minute you don’t want to jump and the next you’re here on your day off. You want to get out there? Work on that triple kicker you seem reluctant to try?”
I blink, unable to believe he’s saying this to me right now. “Lucas is hurt, Coach. He needs?—”
“No,youneed to leave,” he shouts, cutting me off.
I feel Lis’ grip on my hand tighten and I instinctively move so she’s standing behind me, wanting to protect her from whatever’s going to happen next.
“He needs a doctor!” I shout.
