by A. G. Henley
“Working on the double V again today?”
“Nate wants me to focus on it. I have the rest of my tricks down, but the landing for the double V’s still kicking my butt.”
“Okay, let’s get to it. Tramp first.”
“Hi, I’m Nic.” I shook Sarah’s hand. “I’m new at the school.”
“Welcome.” The coach smiled before flagging Ali down to critique her last trick.
Towel in hand, Darya sauntered past me and out without making eye contact. Seeing her in workout gear confirmed she was fit. But so was Veena. I eyed my own biceps. I needed to get back to working out soon. The schedule so far hadn’t left me much extra time.
Veena padded onto the tramp and bounced. Low at first, getting into a rhythm, and then jumping higher. On the last bounce, as her body compacted to spring up and over the pit, the side of the tramp tore with a loud riiiiip. She exploded into the air, but her body was way off balance. With a shriek, her arms flailing, she plummeted facedown onto the pool deck.
Everyone froze, including me. When someone screamed, I shook off the shock and raced to her side.
“Veena! Are you hurt?” I didn’t move her; she could have a spinal cord injury. “Veena?”
She didn’t speak. Was she knocked out? I pushed the red panic button icon on my watch, alerting Cooley and the rest of the team.
Sarah was beside me now, her expression horrified. “Veena?”
The other athletes surrounded us, silent.
“VV?” I whispered.
Sarah turned to Ali, who stood beside us with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth. “Call 911. Now!” Ali ran to a phone mounted on the wall.
Veena groaned. “Nic?”
I leaned closer. “I’m here. What hurts?”
“My face. I hit my face.”
“Don’t move if it’s painful,” Sarah said. “Is your neck okay? Your back?”
“I think so.” Slowly, stiffly, she rolled over.
We all said ohh at the same time. Her nose bled, the whites of her eyes were pink, and her upper lip puffed out.
She closed her eyes. “It’s bad, huh?”
“It’s not good,” a guy said from the back without much sympathy. Jake. That jerk.
Cooley stuck his head in the door of the gym, his eyes on me. I shook my head as inconspicuously as I could. If Veena hadn’t been breathing or something, I’d call him in. But it would blow our cover if a maintenance worker ran in to perform first aid on Veena. Better to wait for the paramedics.
About four minutes later, a man and woman hustled in with jump bags on their backs. I moved aside so they could check Veena out. They examined her neck and back, and soon had her sitting up to apply cold packs to her face. Only then did I breathe normally again.
The other students started trickling out, talking quietly about what happened. The news would be all over the school in minutes. Sarah and Ali stayed by Veena as the paramedics treated her, so I went to examine the tramp. The rings and springs that attached the tramp to the pool wall were all intact.
But that’s when I saw it. The mesh of the tramp had separated right along the side where Veena fell. But the fibers didn’t look torn, like they’d gotten old and given way. The separation was smooth. Smooth, like they’d been slit.
Veena’s neck hurt, so the paramedics took her to the clinic—the same one I’d visited. To make things worse, Doctor Super-Fit was on again. Her expression was suspicious as she examined Veena’s busted up face.
While she examined Veena, I texted Brown, telling him to have someone take pictures of the tramp. That thing didn’t rip; someone cut it.
And Darya was the last person on it. She could have slit it as she exited the pit, while we were talking to Sarah. As I stepped out to check the hallway, I ran into Connor. He steadied me as I bounced off of his shoulder.
“Nic! Nate told me about Veena. He’s coaching right now, so he asked me to come check on her. How is she?” He wore ski pants, a coat, and snowboard boots like he just rode here off the mountain.
“She’s okay. Her neck hurts, but I don’t think anything’s broken. The doc’s in with her now.” I could see them from here, still talking, so I let myself pause for a second.
He leaned against the wall, relief on his face. “How did it happen?”
“The tramp ripped.”
“Ripped? They check the training equipment religiously.”
I shrugged. I wouldn’t spread my theories around to anyone outside my team. But as the adrenaline burned out, I sank into a chair. Connor sat next to me, looking concerned.
“It freaked me out,” I admitted. “She hit her face hard. She looked unconscious at first—or worse.”
“Veena’s one of the toughest riders I’ve ever seen,” he said. “Watch, she’ll be in the pipe as soon as the doctor clears her.”
That wasn’t exactly my biggest concern. If Darya tried this, what was next?
“Did anyone call Veena’s parents?” Connor asked.
Shit, the Venkatesans would want to know. “I don’t know.”
I rested my head in my hands. After this, I could be gone tonight with Veena whisked home to the family estate where she could be properly protected. And I wouldn’t blame her parents a bit.
Connor patted my shoulder. “She’s lucky to have such a good friend.”
The side of my mouth slid up with the irony. Friends was actually the last thing we were supposed to be.
The doctor emerged from Veena’s room and eyed me disapprovingly. “You can go in.”
Veena was propped on a couple pillows, bandages over her upper lip and the bridge of her nose. The skin under her bloodshot eyes was bruising. She looked awful, but she tried to smile. At least her teeth were intact.
“Hey, guys.” Her words were slurred thanks to puffy lips.
“Seriously, Veena. You didn’t have to go this far to throw that double V,” Connor said. “You have other tricks.”
She laughed and winced when her face moved. I must have grimaced, because she said, “I’m okay, Nic. Or I will be.”
Connor checked her out, his eyebrows pinched with sympathy. “When’s your next media event?”
Media event. I’d forgotten about those. Everyone from USA Today to foreign newspapers wanted to hear from VV and get her smiling picture. Please let her be a fast healer.
“I don’t know, at the Grand Prix in Copper, I think. Wait, what if the doctor says I can’t train? My run won’t be ready for the contest!”
He pulled a chair next to her. “Yes, it will. You have a couple weeks. From what I saw yesterday, most of your tricks are set. And if you want to save the double V for the Games, you can, right? You’ll still be top three at Copper without it, no problem. You worry about healing. Nate can worry about your run.”
She slumped back on the pillow. “How did the tramp go out like that?”
I didn’t say anything, but my lips were thin as knives. Her eyes widened.
“Darya,” she said.
Connor’s head swiveled between us. “What about her?”
Veena started to answer, but I cut her off.
“Nothing,” I said.
Nothing, except Darya was to blame. Forget going to Muth again. That girl was going to answer for this. And I’d be the one asking the questions.
Nine
That evening, with Veena safe in her room and Kovitch on point, I caught up with Darya in the game room. A few students played Ping-Pong. Others gamed on a PS-4. Darya was alone, as usual, watching TV. I stood beside the worn overstuffed chair where she lounged.
“I want to talk to you,” I said.
A boy getting popcorn from one of those freestanding machines with the red and white stripes glanced over at me.
“No.” She kept staring at the screen on the wall; the colors flickered over her face.
I squatted next to her sporting my most menacing stare. It wasn’t hard to pull off. I lowered my voice. “I know what you did to Veena today.”
<
br /> Her face was all innocence. “Did to Veena? She did that to herself.”
“You slit the tramp so she’d fall.”
Amusement crossed her face. “Is that what you think?”
“Yeah, I do. And I’m telling you now to stay away from her.”
She faced me, pulling a knee up to her chest. A flicker of curiosity lit her expression. “Who are you? Why are you here? You can’t ski or ride. What are you doing here?”
“I’m Veena’s friend. That’s all you need to know.” In that moment, it felt uncomfortably true.
When Darya leaned toward me, still smiling that dead smile, my fingers found the special cat-shaped keychain in my hoodie pocket. I’d love to show her how this cat scratched.
“Listen up, Veena’s friend. I. Didn’t. Do. Anything.” She turned back to the TV.
After a few seconds I stood. This wasn’t going anywhere, but at least she got the message. Before I walked away, her lips curved into a nasty smile.
Slowly, I climbed the stairs to our room. I had a ton of homework, but I needed to calm down. Clearly Darya wasn’t easily intimidated. Or she was innocent. I’d have to watch her, figure out which.
As I opened the door to our room, music and some kind of tinkling sound tumbled into the hall. The room had a strong woodsy smell. I glanced around. No one was here. Legs firing with adrenaline, I checked the bathroom. Nothing.
I ran toward the balcony—and almost tripped over Veena.
She sat barefoot and cross-legged on the floor between our beds, eyes closed. She rocked a little, and her lips moved. Although I’d practically kicked her in my hurry, she didn’t open her eyes, so I tiptoed to my bed.
The forest smell came from the sticks of incense burning in the holder on the shelf. On the laptop, a woman with a high voice sang in another language—maybe Hindi? Every so often, Veena rang a small silver bell or touched the figurine of the woman, now on the floor in front of her.
The woman was brightly painted, and she had four arms. Two ceramic hands held red flowers, and a flowered necklace hung around her. She smiled secretively. The dishes of water and rice lay next to her on the floor.
Pulling out my books to study felt wrong, like yelling in Mass. Gram made me go once or twice a year before she died. She said it would comfort me if I let it. I guess I didn’t.
My chest squeezed in the familiar way when I thought of those last few months of Gram’s treatment, then hospice. Mom was a wreck; I could barely get to school. I just didn’t see how going to Mass would help. But this, this seemed soothing somehow.
After a few minutes, Veena opened her eyes, blew out the incense, and stretched, arms above her head. She turned to me with a relaxed smile. I tried not to flinch as I got a good look at her face. Dark blooms flowered around her eyes, and her lips swelled grotesquely.
“Veena, I’m sorry.” I felt responsible, but what could I have done to prevent it?
She turned the music off and sat on the edge of her bed. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Brown will talk to Muth about Darya,” I said, “but we aren’t sure she did anything.”
She nodded. “I just wish I could train tomorrow.”
I thought she was lucky the doctor said she could train as early as Friday and only because she somehow hadn’t been concussed. “Take a rest. Heal. You’ll be back on the slopes in a few days, and maybe we’ll have a suspect by then.”
She looked at the figurine again. “Would Darya do something like that? I could’ve . . . I mean, I might have…”
I knew what she was saying, and she was right. Had she flown a few feet farther to the side, she would have hit bare concrete instead of the mat.
“Some people will do anything to win,” I said. “Did you hear about that Olympic ice skater whose ex-husband hired someone to attack her competition right before the Olympics?”
“But those were ice skaters. They’re total drama.”
I snorted, then loosened my tight braid, gathering my thoughts. “Veena—are you sure this is worth it?”
“What?”
“Staying here. Putting yourself at risk.” In more ways than one. Every time she trained, her life was on the line. But that wasn’t what I meant.
Moving onto her bed, she lay back against the pillows and crossed her arms. “It is to me.”
“I guess I’m trying to understand why.”
“Riding is what I love to do. I thought you’d understand that.” She flung a hand at me. “I mean, why are you a bodyguard? It’s not exactly a normal job.” When I don’t answer, she goes on. “When I’m snowboarding . . . I feel like . . . an artist. The pipe is my canvas. I can paint it any way I want. When I’m out there, I take any risk I can handle, conquer my fears. If I give up now, it would be like an artist giving up their art. Letting fear win.” She picked a feather from the seam of her comforter. “That must sound stupid to you. You’re so, I don’t know, practical.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I didn’t completely understand her obsession with snowboarding, but I could hear the passion in her voice. That, I got. “I just want to be sure you’ve thought this through. You could go home any time and be a lot safer than you are out here.” As much as it grated on me to say it.
Her jaw set. When she answered, her voice was quiet but determined. “I’m not going home.”
We were quiet for a few minutes. She pulled a textbook into her lap but only messed with the pages.
I gestured to the things on the shelf. “You were praying?”
“Sort of praying, sort of meditating. It’s called puja.”
I went over to take a closer look, and she followed.
She ran a soft finger over the figure, which she’d put back on the shelf. “This is Lakshmi. She’s a devi, a Hindu goddess. She represents good fortune.”
“Why does she have four arms?”
“To represent the four main goals of human life: dharma, kama, artha, and moksha. Virtue, passion, prosperity, and self-actualization. The rice is an offering, and the water is to bathe her with. I don’t do everything exactly the way you’re supposed to, but I try.” She glanced at me, her expression shy. “No one’s ever watched me perform puja before.”
“I can leave next time.”
“No, it’s kind of personal, but I don’t mind. My mom prays to Lakshmi, too. I have lots of memories of her with her shrine at home. She also has one to Ganesh.” She looked at me. “Have you heard of him?”
I shook my head.
“He’s a god who looks like an elephant. He helps take away obstacles from our paths. Anyway, I picked up the habit from her. Praying puja helps me feel closer to my family when I’m not at home.”
“I’ll do it with you next time,” I said.
Her brow wrinkled. “Why?”
“I need to pray not to murder Darya.”
She grinned and then grimaced, touching her face. “I just thought of something. Lakshmi is married to the god Vishnu. He’s also known as the preserver or the protector. Like you, if you were a guy. Isn’t that kind of weird?”
“Are you proposing?” I waggled my eyebrows at her.
She lay back on her bed and pulled a pillow over her stomach. “Sorry, my heart is set on Anders. Ugh, I hope he won’t see me like this.” She pointed at her face, yawned, and closed her eyes. “At least the accident didn’t happen at a contest. The media would have loved to publish tons of close ups of the damage.”
I was glad, too. At a contest, we wouldn’t have any hope of keeping this quiet so we could investigate.
“I’m glad you’re here, Nic.” Veena’s voice was quiet again. “I wouldn’t be able to stay and train without you.”
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t done a single thing to help her yet. Probably the opposite. But the tramp-slitting indicated that whoever was behind this was growing desperate. Maybe they’d screw up, we’d catch them, and Veena would be safe.
I prayed I was right.
Everyone crowded around Veena the ne
xt morning to ask about the accident. If anything, her face looked worse than the day before.
I hung back. Most of her classmates seemed genuinely sad, but a few didn’t look too distressed that the Olympic halfpipe leader had to take a few days off from training at this critical time. I added more students to my watch list.
Mid-morning, Newman stuck his head into the chemistry room, interrupting class. “Dr. Muth would like to see you, Ms. Rossi.”
Our teacher, a young balding guy named Mr. Sheffield, barely stopped lecturing to wave me out. Veena shot me a look, and I shrugged and texted Cooley to take over.
“Terrible, what happened to Veena,” Newman said as we strolled the quiet hallway.
I didn’t answer.
“Sarah said the trampoline ripped.” He glanced at me.
I wasn’t about to trade theories with Newman. Not until I was sure who was responsible.
“I like your scarf,” I said instead. This one was tan with a prominent black, red, and white plaid pattern. The man must have a different scarf for every day of the month.
“Thanks.” He petted it. “It’s a Burberry.” He held the outer office door for me and motioned to Muth’s office. “Dr. Muth and Mr. Brown are inside.”
I frowned. Brown hadn’t told me he was coming over. I opened the door. Muth was on his usual couch and my chief was on the other. They looked in opposite directions, not speaking. A plain wooden chair sat at the end of the coffee table for me. It looked a lot like an interrogation.
“Miss Rossi, please take a seat.” Muth took his time setting his cup of milky tea down. Newman didn’t offer me anything to drink this time.
Brown’s face was neutral, giving me no clues, but thankfully he cut to the chase. “Nicole, what exactly occurred between you and Miss Yakavenka last evening?”
I tried to look confident, but I had to lick my dry lips to speak, while my fingers tightened together. “I found her in the game room and asked her about the tramp. What might have happened to cause it to rip like that.”