“I yelled at him that he couldn’t boss me around,” I say, now feeling a little embarrassed by that. It probably wasn’t the most mature outburst. In fact, I probably sounded like a grumpy little kid having a tantrum. But I didn’t feel that way at the time. Phoebe’s calm attitude now, though, makes me feel more than a little silly about the whole thing.
“But that wasn’t really what bugged you, right?” she asks, sipping her coffee, looking out at the woods. I’m glad she isn’t looking right at me, because I can feel my eyes welling up with tears that I absolutely don’t want her to notice.
“I guess I was more upset that he was mean about it, not that he wanted me to check my stuff,” I admit, thinking back.
“Maybe if you’d told him that instead, it would have gone differently?”
“You think I should talk to him,” I sigh, catching on to what she’s saying. I mean, she’s right, but that’s still annoying. And so is Leo, whether he means to be or not.
“I really do,” she says sympathetically. “And I know that especially with brothers, they can seem like huge pains in the butt, but with Leo, I think he’s honestly trying to help you, not hurt your feelings. And, for what it’s worth, he’s really proud of you. You should hear him when you’re not around.”
“What does he say?” I ask, desperate to know.
“He thinks you’re going to be better than him by the time you’re his age,” she says. “I know he’s a little hard on you in practice, but he’s still figuring out his coaching style, and he wants you to reach your full potential.”
“So why can’t he talk to me and tell me he’s proud instead of just listing problems?” I say, exasperated.
“Boys,” she says, shaking her head like that one word pretty much sums it up.
“Boys,” I echo, shaking mine, because when she’s right, she’s right. Then we share a look, and laugh.
After that we sit in silence for a while, both simply enjoying the birds and the rabbits that are parading around the backyard. But we get only a couple of minutes like that before the clomping of heavy feet on the stairs up from the basement and the giggles drifting down from up in the loft start to sound off around us.
Dad sticks his head out the door. “I made chocolate chip cookies!” he says cheerily. “You girls doing okay?”
“Absolutely,” I respond, smiling at him. The annoyance I felt when I came outside has evaporated.
“Good girl,” he says as he closes the door.
“Feeling better?” Phoebe asks.
I nod. “Can I go eat cookies now?”
“That’s the best way to end a training session,” she says as she walks into the house.
CHAPTER 14
The next day, as we’re digging into burgers for lunch at the mountain, Lindsay mentions that her parents will be coming in tomorrow to spend some time exploring the area and to watch the competition. I haven’t met them yet, but Lindsay has told us a bunch about them. They are all really close. The way she talks about her mom and dad like they’re a singular unit makes me feel a little jealous, especially when she tells me about places that they’ve taken her. As anthropologists who work together a lot, they end up on really cool digs, so Lindsay has a ton of pictures of her as a little kid running around sites where only days before, old civilizations were being excavated. They even spent one summer together at the town where her grandparents lived in Mexico, while her parents worked on a dig. Lindsay has some amazing pictures on her phone from there, of her helping her mom clean up some old pottery.
It made me think that our family should be going on more adventures together. So at breakfast, I mention this to Steven and suggest that we plan a family biking trip and go somewhere to race in the fall. Not exactly a traditional family vacation, but we have a different kind of family! He was typing away on his phone, angled away from me so I couldn’t see the screen. He was smiling slightly, so I know nothing was wrong, but he seemed distracted and only semi-agreed that a bike vacation could be fun. I left him to his phone, but there’s definitely something going on with him. I may have to get Lindsay back on the case.
But for now it’s practice time. “One more run?” I ask Jen and Lindsay, and they nod. “Phoebe, can we do the green run on the far right of the hill by ourselves?” I ask. I think we deserve a chance to try it on our own, even if the thought makes me a little nervous. This is a trail we’ve never done before, but I know it can’t be that hard since it’s marked for beginners.
She gives me a thumbs-up, and Jen and Lindsay cheer as we head over to the lift line again. This time, I feel a lot more in charge, and confidently wheel my bike up, set it in its rack, and sit down. I notice that the other girls are doing the same. Maybe we needed to be on our own to feel like we were more capable of doing this, because even as the chair whisks us up into the air, I’m feeling supremely calm.
Jen has even taken out her phone and is snapping selfies, and okay, that does make me a little nervous because I’m imagining how angry she’ll be if she fumbles the phone and it ends up falling into the woods…and how long she’ll make us search for it afterward. But I still smile for the group photo, and before I know it, we’re at the top again, hopping off and grabbing our bikes.
“Ali, why don’t you lead?” Lindsay says quickly, and I catch her glancing nervously at Jen to see how she responds. But Jen doesn’t seem unhappy about that.
“Go for it!” Jen says encouragingly. I wonder if she’s just scared about going first and crashing. It’s a lot easier to follow someone down than to set the pace yourself, that’s for sure. But it was my idea to do this run, so I nod and push off toward the start of the descent.
The trail is nothing too hard. It’s mainly smooth corners. We stay so close that we speed to the base of the mountain almost touching wheels.
As I pull my helmet off to get some air on my face, I hear someone calling my name and turn around. Scott is waving at us happily, with a few friends standing with him wearing similar chest plates and body armor. Must be his teammates, I think. He breaks free from them and pedals over to us.
We talk for only a minute, since we’re leaving and they’re just getting started, but Jen elbows me when I tell him we have to get going. “You two should ride sometime,” she says, gesturing to Scott and me.
I glare at her. Not this again. I realize that even though Jen and I have mostly made up, I never had that talk with her about how I feel about the whole dating and boys thing. I was so happy we were getting along that it totally slipped my mind.
“That would be great!” he says.
Now I’m stuck. “Maybe,” I say weakly, and fake a look down at my wrist, where I’d have a watch. “Would you look at the time? Phoebe is going to kill us. Let’s go!” I say, and pedal away. Inside, I’m seething with rage and ready to smack Jen.
I know I haven’t had that discussion with her, but still, she shouldn’t be trying to mess with my life like this. It’s bad enough to joke about me calling Scott or telling me I should like him, but to try to push us together?
So as soon as we’re out of earshot, I forget all about that calm discussion tactic and start yelling. “Jen, you can’t control my life like that!”
“Like what?” she says innocently.
“Jen, I think Ali means you can’t make her and Scott get together,” Lindsay says. “And I don’t get why you’re pushing it so hard.”
“Because!” Jen says, looking a little angry and hurt herself now. “I only want Ali to feel normal.”
That does it. “I AM normal!” I yell. “Just because I don’t want to dress like you or date random boys I meet in a bike park doesn’t make me a freak!” I’m about to burst into tears, so I stop talking and pedal away.
The rest of the day, Lindsay gives me space, and the couple of times Jen tries to talk to me, I ignore her. My dad picks up on our weirdness a
t dinner, but when he tries to say something, I think Phoebe actually kicks him under the table. Later, I hear her telling him to let us work out our own problems and that we’re going to be fine, but I don’t know about that. Maybe Jen and I are too different to be friends, after all.
Every time we take one step forward, we take another two back. It’s like we’re from different planets. Lindsay would love that, since it fits perfectly into her we’re-secretly-superheroes theory. But right this second, I would prefer that Jen take the next rocket ship back to wherever her home planet is and leave planet Earth and me in peace.
TRAINING LOG
TODAY’S WORKOUT: Easy rest day! You’ve done really great work on the trails and working on your skills these last couple of days, but it’s time to take a break. You can play on the pump track if you want, but really focus on getting a ton of rest and taking today easy, because we only have one week left before the competition, and being completely recovered and ready to crush it is key! XO, Phoebe
YOUR NOTES: When we got sent upstairs to go to bed early last night, I tried to sleep. Really. But I couldn’t shut my brain off. Lindsay was still up reading with her book light, but Jen was already snoring softly. A few days ago, the noise would have annoyed me, but now it relaxes me because it means we can’t fight. We keep going through this cycle: we talk, we get along great, I start to think I really understand her, and then she goes and does something like telling Scott we should hang out, as though we’re going to magically fall in love, or telling me I should try her glitter eyeliner to make my eyes look wider. I don’t understand why she doesn’t get it. I know this isn’t about training, but it’s hard to even think about today’s downhilling session without wondering if our whole Shred Girls team is a good idea or not. Times like this, I really wonder. But then I look at my wall—pictures of me and my brothers, pictures of me with Jen and Lindsay. I don’t want to give up the only other girls I’ve ever gotten to ride with. There has to be a way to make Jen understand that I can’t be who she wants me to be, but I still want to be her friend.
CHAPTER 15
When we get up and head downstairs in the morning, it’s an uneasy truce in the house—today is the day that Lindsay’s parents are coming, and I think we all want to make a good impression. We want them to love the idea of the Shred Girls team and keep letting us go on adventures, and if they walk in to a screaming mess, well, they might turn around and leave, dragging Lindsay with them. After a quiet breakfast, Jen takes her bike into the backyard to work on the pump track with Leo while Steven and I spend some time working on the bikes in the garage. Dad handles a lot of our bike repairs, but once a week, it’s our job to make sure all of the bikes are clean, the chains aren’t squeaky, and the tires aren’t flat. And today I don’t mind, because at least we’re all in our separate corners, spending some time apart.
“Ali, I think you’re overinflating that tire,” Steven says as I angrily pump one of them well past the pressure it should be at. I guess I’m still a little frustrated.
I hiss some air out of it but don’t say anything. I’m not feeling very chatty this morning, and luckily, neither is Steven. We’re both pretty lost in thought as we wash and polish the rest of the bikes. I still wonder what he’s thinking about. He hasn’t been riding as much lately and spends more and more time on his computer. I don’t know if he has a girlfriend who doesn’t approve of racing or what’s going on, but I’m starting to feel a little worried. He’s not his bouncy, almost-fun self.
Outside the garage, I can see Lindsay pacing up and down the driveway anxiously waiting for her parents to get here. Finally, around lunchtime, a red car turns down our road and pauses at our driveway, checks the house number, and pulls in.
“Mom! Dad!” Lindsay shrieks, sprinting toward her parents, who are already running just as fast toward her. They meet her in one giant group hug, and I’m a little bit jealous. Steven must sense that too, because he slings an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.
Even from a few feet away, I can hear Lindsay’s mom telling her how grown-up Lindsay looks and how proud she is. I know they haven’t spent a lot of time together since they got back from their dig—seriously, anthropologists? Who knew people actually did those jobs outside of the movies?
The smell of barbecue drifts from the backyard, and Dad peers around the house in his “Best Chef Ever” apron. (That’s an overstatement.)
“Everyone ready for lunch?” he asks.
“Starving,” Lindsay’s mom says. “It was a long flight out here.”
“It’s nothing like when we came home from Greece last month! Three flights and two buses, and not a single decent meal,” her dad adds, sniffing the air. “But it smells amazing! Can we help with anything?”
Dad shakes his head. “Just head into the kitchen and grab drinks. Lindsay will show you where everything is,” he says, and the three of them head inside, Penguin stalking them like he expects treats.
When everything is on the table, we all cram into our seats and dig in fast. Dad might not be the fanciest chef, but I do have to admit—as I chomp into my third piece of grilled corn on the cob—he is pretty great. Looking around the now-overflowing table (in terms of food and people!), it does make for a perfect scene.
Lindsay’s parents are both talking to my dad, who’s trying to reassure them that Lindsay will be okay on the big hills, while also explaining how cool the downhill events over the weekend are going to be.
“Downhill racing is basically timing who can get from the top to the bottom on a certain trail the fastest,” he says. “It’s not about jumping or showing off any tricks, but you do have to have a lot of skills to get through the corners and technical features smoothly without losing time.”
“Is it dangerous?” Lindsay’s dad asks.
“It can be, but you’re wearing a lot of protective gear, and the girls are competing on the beginner track, so there aren’t any major drops or big rocks,” Dad explains.
“How big is the hill?” her mom asks.
“Oh, it’s not a hill. It’s a mountain!” Dad says with a big grin. “That’s the beauty of living out here: water to one side, mountains to the other.”
He’s making wide gestures with his arms to describe the mountains, and I think it’s probably freaking Lindsay’s mom out more than it’s helping.
“The girls are doing really great so far,” Phoebe says reassuringly, and we all struggle to look as mature and competent as possible.
The guys seem to be having a hot-dog-eating contest with each other, but no one appears to be offended by the quantity of hot dogs the two of them are consuming. Thank goodness Dad made extra. But as Phoebe starts talking, Leo’s head pops up from where his nose was nearly touching his plate, and he gulps down the second half of his hot dog, barely chewing.
“They really are—Lindsay’s absolutely fearless,” he says, and while she blushes, her parents both look unsurprised.
“She used to try to fly by jumping off the swing set, so that’s not entirely shocking,” her dad explains to us.
“Jen is all about precision in corners, and she perfectly carves into them—supersmooth,” Leo adds.
Her face lights up. “Corners on those bikes aren’t too different from hitting corners on the road bikes I’m used to,” she says modestly.
I hold my breath, terrified that he’s going to tell everyone how bad I am or how little I’m improving or, worse, not mention me at all.
“And Ali’s speed has really picked up. She handles a bike like I wish I had at her age,” Leo says instead, and my jaw drops. “She’s way better at navigating technical terrain than I was then, and out of all the young riders I’ve seen at the mountain, she has the best body awareness on the bike.”
I can’t stop smiling.
“What does that mean?” Lindsay’s mom asks.
“Some r
iders just sit on the bike and don’t ever really move from one position,” Phoebe explains. “Body awareness on the bike means moving your body from side to side or shifting forward or backward to make the bike move smoother. It’s a hard skill to teach!”
“And you should have seen Ali doing wheelies!” Jen adds. “She taught me so many great tips.”
“It’s been fun to see all of you improving so much,” my dad says.
I’m not sure how to deal with this love-fest, so I spoon more coleslaw onto my plate and look down, feeling happier than I have in a long time.
Long after we’re out of food, Phoebe is arguing with Lindsay about the ending of a comic they’ve both been reading (the word “anti-feminist” is getting thrown around a lot), while Jen is nodding like she knows what they’re talking about, and sneaking scraps of burger to Penguin under the table.
And me? I’m taking it all in. This is what a family meal should look like, I think. A little too loud, not overly polite and formal.
After lunch, Lindsay helps her mom and dad clear the table, and we all hang out on the back porch, enjoying the rest of the afternoon in the cool, crisp air that means fall is getting closer and closer. Phoebe snuggles with Penguin on the porch swing, Lindsay sits between her parents, and my dad has his designated chair, while Jen and I—having come to another uneasy truce, still not speaking much—sit on opposite sides of the outdoor couch.
It’s been a quiet day since Steven and Leo both left after lunch to hang out with friends. It’s nice to start feeling relaxed with everyone for the first time in a few days.
TRAINING LOG
TODAY’S WORKOUT: We’re tackling a downhill run that’s much harder than anything you’ll have in the competition. Why are we doing this? Because you’re going to have a ton of fun riding down it, but also because if you can handle this (and you can), you can handle anything that the competition has in store for you. It’s a great way to build up your confidence in yourself and in your bike….Just remember to bring an extra jacket because it gets cold at the “top of the world”! XO, Phoebe
Ali's Rocky Ride Page 9
