“I’m worried you’re putting too much pressure on her.”
“Pressure is part of racing. She can take it.”
“It’s not all about the winning, Tyler! If you make her think that then she’s going to be crushed when she doesn’t win.”
“What sort of crazy liberal shit is that? It’s a competition. Of course it’s about the winning. What’s the point, otherwise?” He dragged his eyes from Jess long enough to give Brenna an incredulous look. “You want her to slow down and be polite so that the girl behind her can win?”
She wanted to laugh because in that moment, he reminded her of the boy he’d once been, tearing down the slopes as if he’d had rocket boosters attached to his skis. “All I’m saying is that she wants to please you so badly, she might put herself at risk.”
“Skiing downhill is always a risk.”
“But there is a fine line between breaking speed records and breaking your neck!”
“She’s good.”
“But she was brought up in Chicago by a mother who hated skiing!”
“All the more reason to catch up now. She’s an O’Neil. Not just her hair and her blue eyes, but the way she feels the snow. Or haven’t you noticed?”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Brenna gave up. Instead she focused on Jess, willing her to do well and not fall.
“She wants to ski. I don’t push her to do anything she isn’t already desperate to do. I tried holding her back last winter, and look where that got us.”
Brenna thought back to the night when Jess had disappeared, determined to impress her father by skiing the most difficult run in the resort. “That was a horrible night.”
“She’s next.” Tyler watched as Jess pushed through the start wand, gaining speed immediately.
“Her style is good.”
“Her hand is going back. She’s rotating her body and losing seconds at every gate.”
“She’s doing well.” Brenna winced as one of the gates, the poles that marked the course, swung back and hit Jess in the face. “It’s her first real winter season here, Tyler, and the season only started a few weeks ago.”
“Which means we have a lot of time to make up. She’s concentrating on the gates and not her turns.”
“Tyler.” A woman stepped up to him, her glossy red mouth curving into a smile. “I’m Anna. Patty Clarke’s mother.”
She couldn’t have picked a worse time to try and catch his attention.
Tyler didn’t spare her a glance. His eyes were on Jess. “She’s sliding into her turns. She’s putting too much weight on the inside ski early in the turn, and she needs a tighter line as she approaches the gate.”
“We can work on that. She’s a junior, Tyler, she doesn’t have the physical strength of a World Cup skier!”
“She’s losing time.”
Seeing that he wasn’t going to respond to Anna Clarke, Brenna intervened. “Patty is showing real promise, Anna.”
Patty’s mother ignored her and moved closer to Tyler.
Brenna’s face burned and for a moment she was fifteen again, on her own in school corridors that echoed with the laughter of other kids. Whenever she thought of school, the dominant memory was of being alone while all the other kids traveled in packs. Some days she’d been invisible, others she’d felt like a lone gazelle surrounded by a pack of hyenas. She’d preferred the invisible days, days when her tormentors left her alone, even though that loneliness had been a miserable state. Skipping school to meet Tyler had been the only bright spot in an otherwise gray period of her life.
She glanced briefly at Anna, wondering what it must be like to be that socially confident. To be so sure of a positive response to your overtures. Brenna had been knocked back so many times it had left her wary of putting herself out there.
She’d left school with her self-esteem shredded and even though she’d gradually woven it back together, she was aware of its intrinsic fragility. On the ski slope she was confident. With the people she knew and loved, she was confident. But when it came to people like Patty’s mother, she reverted to being an awkward teenager.
Anna showed no signs of awkwardness. If she’d experienced rejection in her life then it had left no scars. “I wondered if you’d be prepared to give her private lessons. I’d be there, too.”
Tyler watched as Jess finished the course and then turned his head, his handsome face blank of expression. If he noticed the smile Anna Clarke gave him, he didn’t respond. “If she’s on the school team, she’ll be at training sessions on Fridays. I’ll be coaching some of those.”