Switching Gears

by Chantele Sedgwick

  I grin at Cole, and he smiles back. “May the best biker win.” He gestures to the trail.

  Mark yells, “Go!”

  I don’t hesitate at all, just push off and hang on as my bike flies down the mountain. My adrenaline kicks in, and I smile as I make every turn. It’s an amazing feeling. Like I’m really flying. Trees surround me, and it feels like I’m alone in a huge forest, feeling free and more alive than I’ve felt in weeks.

  My bike soars over a rock and lands on a thin board a few yards away. I ride over it like I’ve done it a million times. The truth is though, I’ve never ridden a trail this complicated, but I’m holding my own and it’s awesome.

  I wonder if Whitney’s right behind me, but don’t turn around. I don’t want to miss any part of this ride.

  After riding for a few quiet minutes, the distractions start rolling in. Thoughts of Mom pop into my head. How hurt she looked when I left her on the couch this morning. How Dad has been bugging me to talk to them. Why am I being so weird about it? Mom’s still here. She’s still very much herself. I should be happy about that, right?

  But then thoughts of what I read on the Internet hit me. Her not remembering my name someday hits me hard. I can’t handle that. I can’t see her struggling to put a name to her own daughter’s face. And when I have my own kids, she won’t even know who they are. I shake my head and get it out of my mind.

  Not today. Don’t think about it.

  Focus on the race and that’s it.

  My thoughts change directions, and I frown at where they lead. To Whitney. How much I want to beat her. I don’t know why I want it so bad. I just do. I want to be captain again. Crave it. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’d give anything to do this for a living and want to prove it by winning this. By winning the Back Country race in a few weeks. I have to prove I’m as good as her. As good as Cole even. Good enough to get a sponsor. Good enough for him to … I don’t know. Like me? Because honestly, I’m having a hard time talking myself out of liking him.

  I’m guessing I’m about halfway down the mountain now. It’s a little slick, but as long as I have control, I’ll be fine.

  Stay in control. You’ve got this. The words keep repeating through my head, and I use them to keep moving. Keep pedaling. Keep myself together. Victory is at my fingertips. I can almost taste it. The wind rushes by and my adrenaline pumps through my veins, making me push harder. I swear I’ve never gone so fast in my life.

  I wish Lucas were here to see me ride. He’d be cheering me on at the bottom. He loved coming to my races.

  A hill is ahead, and I shift gears right as I start the climb. As far as I know, I’m still alone. But as I start up the hill, sweating and panting, Whitney rides by me like it’s nothing. She doesn’t say anything, which makes me feel a little better. No cockiness or smart remarks. Just her and her game face. But seeing how easy she passed me makes me realize she’s going to beat me no matter how hard I ride.

  I keep pushing myself and reach the top, right after she does. I switch gears again and head down the rocky terrain, bumping up and down on my seat. My tires slide a little and as I careen out of control, I pull on both my brakes.

  Which is the stupidest thing I could do.

  Everything goes in slow motion as I flip over my handle bars. I land hard on my back, try to twist onto my side to catch myself, but start rolling down the mountain instead. Fire tears through my forehead and pain radiates through my body each time I hit a sharp rock.

  I’m well aware of the sound of my bike crashing down the mountain after me. When I finally roll to a stop, it flies over me, almost hitting me in the face. I hear it land in some bushes a few feet away.

  It takes me a minute to realize what happened as I try and catch my breath.

  Everything’s quiet. I’m floating. It feels like I’m not connected to my body anymore, but I know I am because I’m still awake and staring up into the trees above me.

  My head is swimming. I close my eyes and open them again. Trees. And black dots.

  Blink.

  More trees. More dots.

  Pain.

  The only thing I hear is my shallow, noisy breathing.

  I lay on the ground for a while, trying to make the dizziness go away.

  After letting the crash sink in, cursing a few times and trying not to cry, I force myself to sit up, my body protesting every movement. I’m pretty sure I’m okay, but I take things slow just in case. I flex my feet, move my legs, shake out the pain and stiffness in my arms and wrists.

  Sore, but all good. Nothing’s broken.

  Something warm drips down the side of my cheek and I reach up, my eyes widening as I see the blood on my fingers.

  Someone shouts my name. Unless I’m imagining things, which could be possible seeing how I just had the worst crash of my life.

  “Emmy?” The shout echoes through the trees and I flinch as my head pounds from the sound. Even though I had my helmet on, it still hurts when you knock it against a rock.

  I raise my hand and cringe at the pain that shoots through my arm, my shoulder, my neck. Not seriously hurt, but I think I might have whiplash.

  “Emmy!” Someone rushes down the trail toward me and I groan. It’s Cole. I don’t want him to see me like this. When he reaches me, he kneels down and touches my face. “Emmy. Talk to me.”

  I take a breath to steady my breathing and close my eyes. “Go away.”

  He lets out a breath. “Good. You’re talking, at least. Are you okay?”

  I nod. “Yes.” I flex my fingers again just to be sure. “I think anyway.”

  He stares at my forehead, his eyes wide. “You’re bleeding.” He unbuckles my helmet and takes it off my head, setting it down in the dirt next to him. I don’t even protest.

  “I know.” I blush at the tender way he looks at me as I feel blood trailing into my eyebrow. “Where’s my bike?”

  He glances behind him and his face is pained when he looks back at me. He hesitates and opens his mouth, but I stop him.

  “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Not yet anyway.” My baby is obviously broken. I spent so many hours building that bike. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s not fixable.

  “It’s not as bad as it could be. That’s all I’ll say right now.” Before I know what he’s doing, he’s taking off his shirt.

  “What …” I trail off. I’m perfectly aware I may have a concussion or something, but his chest is really nice to look at. Yep. I’m positive I have a concussion.

  “The cut on your forehead is deep.” He wads up the shirt and presses it to my forehead, making me flinch. “I’m pretty sure you need stitches.”

  “Great.” I hold the shirt in place, despite it being covered in Cole’s sweat. I don’t know whether to be grossed out or a little turned on.

  I take a breath, noting how it doesn’t smell like sweat, though. It smells like him. A woodsy kind of smell. Whatever cologne he wears. Why would he wear cologne to a bike race?

  I stare at him and curse myself. Why did I wear makeup?

  Duh.

  He gives me a strange look as he realizes I’m watching him. “You okay?”

  “Yes. Thank you. Uh … for the shirt.”

  He looks around and then back at me. “We need to get you to the hospital. Can you stand?”

  “I think.”

  He wraps his arm around my waist and lifts me to my feet. I wobble a little and cry out as I see my bike lying in the dirt a few feet away.

  “What? What happened?” His voice is panicked. “What did I do?”

  “Oh, no. No.” I walk over to my bike and bend down, examining it. “My front wheel’s bent.”

  He exhales a sigh of relief. “Don’t do that! I thought I hurt you.”

  “No, you didn’t hurt me. But look at this. Do you have any idea how long I saved up to get these?” I frown as I study my wheel. There’s no way I’ll be able to fix it.

  Cole bends down next to me. “I’m sorry. That su
cks.”

  “Yes. Yes it does. I bought these a few weeks ago.” I sigh. Where the heck am I going get money for new wheels? There’s no way Mom and Dad can lend me money, especially now that Mom …

  I stare at the ground. Mom. She’ll kill me when she finds out what happened. And worse, she’ll kill me again for lying about Park City.

  “Looks like your rear derailleur is messed up, too.”

  I glance at it. He’s right. “Perfect.” My day is officially ruined.

  He picks up my bike and helps me to my feet again. “Come on. Let’s head down the mountain. We need to get your head looked at.” He pulls his phone out. “I’m calling Kelsie and letting her know what happened.”

  “I can talk to her.” I can only imagine what she’s going to do when she finds out I’m hurt.

  “I’ve got it. Just try not to go into shock or something, okay?”

  “I’m not going to go into shock.”

  He shoots me a look and walks my bike back up the hill until we get to his, sitting a few yards down the trail. He leans my bike against a tree, gibing me a look not to touch it, but I grab it with my free hand anyway.

  “I can take it. I’m standing. I’m talking. I’m perfectly capable of walking my own bike down the hill.”

  He frowns as Kelsie answers her phone. “Kelsie? This is Cole. There’s been a … yes. No, she’s okay. Yes. No. She’s bleeding, but she’s … she’s okay. Yes …”

  I hear Kelsie’s panicked voice on the other end and hope she doesn’t do something stupid to try to get to me. I reach for the phone and Cole hands it over.

  “Kels?”

  “Emmy! What happened? Are you okay? Cole said you’re bleeding. Do we need to call an ambulance? I’m sitting on the stupid ski-lift right now and it’s taking forever to get me back down. Are you stuck up there? Can you get down yourself? What—”

  “Kelsie. I’m okay. Cole’s helping me down.”

  “I’ll meet you in a second. Don’t go into shock!”

  I hang up and roll my eyes. “Sorry. She likes to freak out …”

  He touches my shoulder to steady me as I trip over a rock. “Careful.”

  “Sorry.”

  He lets go of me, a deep crease in his forehead from frowning. “I’m not gonna lie—I sort of freaked out when I saw your bike without you on it. And when I saw you with the blood all over your face? Almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “I almost gave myself one.” I suck in a breath as pain shoots through my head. At first I didn’t feel it, but now … “I shouldn’t have pulled on my brakes. I’m so stupid. I’ve never crashed in the three years I’ve been biking.”

  “You’re not stupid.”

  “I am.”

  He’s silent for a moment. “I’m glad you’re not hurt worse. If something would have happened to you …” He trails off, and I let the emotion in his voice sink in.

  “I’m fine. My bike’s broken, but … I’m fine.” I frown. “And Whitney won again.”

  “Don’t worry about her right now.”

  “Okay. I promise I won’t mention her again. Until I see her at the bottom, shouting how awesome she is to anyone who can hear.”

  “Deal.” He nods and grabs the handlebars to my bike. “Why don’t I walk yours, since it’s injured.” He gives me a smile. “And you walk mine.”

  “Okay.” I take it and walk next to him, my frown deepening at the thought of the repairs I’m going to have to do because of one stupid mistake.

  “I’m sorry, Emmy,” he says.

  “Don’t be. This isn’t your fault.”

  “Still.”

  I shake my head and sigh. It was my fault. I guess I don’t know how to race.

  Neither one of us says anything else.

  CHAPTER 19

  I’ve never been so afraid of calling my parents in my life.

  “I’ll do it if you want,” Kelsie says. “They don’t scare me.” She stares out the window as I sit between her and Cole in his truck.

  After my sad attempt at racing Whitney, she went off to celebrate her victory at some salon. She didn’t even ask if I was okay. Not that I ever expected her to.

  “They don’t scare me either. I just … don’t want to freak them out. Especially my mom.” I don’t want her to worry at all. She’s got enough going on as it is. And secretly, I don’t want her to ground me for the rest of my life.

  “Why do you think they’ll freak out?” Cole asks.

  I give Kelsie a look and don’t miss the tiny head shake she gives Cole. She knows I lied to Mom.

  “They’ll be fine,” I mutter. Hopefully. I push the call button with one hand, while the other holds Cole’s shirt on my head in place.

  Dad answers. “Hey, Bug.”

  “Uh … hi.” I’m glad Dad picked up, but I’m positive he’s going to freak out as soon as I tell him what happened.

  When I don’t say anything, he asks, “Is everything okay?”

  I hesitate. “Um … yes and no.”

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” His voice is more panicked than before. I can just see him standing in the kitchen with his eyes wide.

  “I kind of crashed riding my bike. I’m fine, but I’m pretty sure I need to get stitches.”

  “What? Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

  “In Park City.”

  “What? Why are you in Park City?”

  “Uh … racing?”

  He’s silent and I squeeze my eyes shut. I hate disappointing Dad. “Did you tell Mom where you were going?”

  “No. I … uh … told her I was going to Ogden.”

  More silence.

  “I didn’t want her to tell me I couldn’t go. I’m sorry. Really.” He won’t say anything and now he’s making me panic. I avoid Cole and Kelsie’s concerned looks and focus on the dashboard in front of me. I try again. “Dad. I’m fine. It’s not that bad, I promise.”

  I know he’s standing with his fingers on the bridge of his nose, the way he looks when he’s trying to control his temper. “Is anyone with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “Kelsie and … Cole. I’m okay, Dad. It’s a cut on my forehead. Not a big deal. More like a scratch.” Ha. It’s stinging so bad I want to cry.

  Cole shoots me a look and shakes his head. It’s definitely not a scratch.

  “You’re going to need insurance information. Do you have your card in your purse?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. If the hospital needs anything else, call me back.”

  “I will.”

  “You come home right when you’re done.”

  “Dad, I’m fine. I swear.”

  “I mean it, Emmy. We’ll talk when you get home.”

  “Okay.”

  He hangs up.

  I stare at the phone in my hand. Dad’s never hung up on me before. He must be really mad. Which makes me feel even more awful.

  When we pull into the parking lot of the hospital and Cole puts his truck in park, I sit there, my heart racing as I stare at the white building in front of me.

  “You should probably put a shirt on, Cole,” Kelsie says.

  “Probably.” He fishes in his biking bag and grabs one, pulling it over his head. I glance at him a moment and turn my attention back to the building. I don’t want to go in there.

  “Emmy? You okay?” Kelsie asks.

  I don’t answer, but keep my eyes on the hospital, remembering the last time I saw Lucas alive.

  “Em.” She reaches out and puts a hand on mine. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

  I nod but don’t say anything. Memories of Lucas are rushing back in, hitting me full force right now, and if I talk, the floodgates will open. So I clench my jaw and take my time walking up to the doors.

  “You sure you’re okay, Emmy?” Cole asks, worry creasing his brow.

  “I’m fine.”

  They share a look, and I ignore them both.

  We’re in a tot
ally different hospital than Lucas was in, but still. Everything smells the same. And the walls. White and plain. The same.

  I bite my lip to keep myself under control.

  Once I get checked in and put into a room, I wait for the doctor to come in.

  “Have you ever gotten stitches before?” Cole asks.

  I shake my head. “No.” I stare at the floor.

  “It’s … not too bad.” I glance up and by the look on his face, I know he’s lying. “I got my first set of stitches when I was eleven. Slammed my finger in the door after I came home from school.”

  “Really?” Distraction from the pain. Keep talking, Cole.

  “Yep. I had to get half my fingertip sewed back on. Went to school with a bunch of gauze and tape that made my finger look freaking huge.”

  I glance over at him and grin. “That would have scarred me for life seeing that.”

  “You should have seen underneath the gauze.”

  I shiver. “No thanks.”

  Kelsie shoots him a glare. “Not helping the situation.”

  “No, he’s fine. I need him to keep talking. My head’s killing me.”

  He folds his arms and leans against the wall. “Let’s see. When was the last time you’ve been in the emergency room?”

  “This is a first.”

  “Really? You’ve never had a broken bone or anything like that?”

  “Nope.”

  He frowns. “First time for everything I guess.”

  He’s got that right.

  Eight stitches and a huge monster headache later, we’re on our way home. After we left the hospital, we picked up Kelsie’s car at the ski lodge.

  Cole drives in front of us, my broken bike in the back of his truck. I don’t want to think about my bike. If I would have been more careful, my wheels would be fine. But no. One rookie mistake.

  I think of all the hours I put into that bike and try not to cry.

  “You okay, Em? Need any more pain meds?”

  “No.” I’m tired. And I’m pretty sure I do need more pain meds. My head hurts and so does my pride, but I don’t tell her that. I’m trying to be tough.

  “I’m so sorry you crashed.”

  I sigh. “So am I.”

  Cole pulls into my driveway and takes my bike out of his truck. As he sets it on the ground in front of the garage, he looks at me. “If you need any help—”