Shit, there was going to be a lot of footage to delete. I released a long breath and met his gaze. ‘Yeah. You?’
‘O’ course. We all done, or do you wanna know about the dragon? He’s called Valerio, by the way.’
‘Ha! You named him after yourself?’
He sucked on his bottom lip and I saw sparks behind my eyes. ‘I told you, you’re a liar, Kubicka.’
There was that praise again.
‘I didn’t laugh,’ I insisted.
‘I don’t know whether to believe you.’
I held up my phone – a cowardly excuse to cut short the flirting. ‘Tell me about the dragon, Colin.’
He considered his words for a moment and I held my breath, hoping for a hint of insight, an indication that my sympathy wasn’t irrational.
‘I was at the tattoo place,’ he eventually said with a shrug and a wry smile. ‘I didn’t know what to get. My mate said girls love dragons and… you can see the result.’
Chapter 9
Colin
Leesa had her work cut out for her, presenting me as a champion. Between Dad’s backfiring pep talks over breakfast and the way my brain seemed to fix on capturing the exact blue of her eyes so I’d never forget it, I had restless energy to burn. I never knew if I was going to get away with just teasing her or whether that would be the time I’d crumble and kiss her. It was a knife’s edge, but kind of a fun one.
My act of desperation in September, in a panic that she’d leave without…perceivingme or some shit had backfired spectacularly and she’d told me clearly enough she wasn’t interested. But suddenly, she waslookingat me and I didn’t know what she saw.
If Dad knew how much energy I was expending thinking about her, he’d probably hit me over the head – although he wasn’t actually violent. He was just a hardarse who knew more about my lactate threshold than my personality.
I was surprised it had taken Mum this long to leave him. She’d sent me photos of her new apartment in Docklands and I was happy for her. Dad had mentioned so little it was conceivable she hadn’t told him, although I doubted it. He probably just didn’t care, when the Tour was so close, and he’d hate thatIdid.
The Tour was everything for Dad. Maybe if I hadn’t followed in his footsteps and taken up road cycling pro, I might never have seen him. Sometimes it didn’t feel fair that both Lori and I ended up chasinghisdream, especially when Mum understood there was more to life than the yearly jaunt around France – and more to me than a set of hamstrings and quadriceps.
Resting, calm and chill, all that Zen shit wasn’t going to work for me when the Tour was a little over three weeks away. I knew the pressure was bad because I was thinking of heading into Brixen to the tattoo place – and wondering if Leesa would come with me. Matching ink. A little ‘mine and yours’ to commemorate the last time she screwed with my head.
Maybe I could get a skull and crossbones to remember her by. I’d been such an idiot in September – and in every conversation with her since. A skull and crossbones would probably be a good symbol for her to remembermeby as well.
It was Tuesday of the second week of camp and we were out on the road in the valley. I came alive on the twists and turns, the asphalt opening out under me and the gradients no match for my current fitness. I could look off into the distance and imagine never stopping.
Sometimes that thought started to consume me.
‘You ever going to take a turn at the front, Derro? Scared your moustache will blow off?’ Thank fuck for the guys on the team.
‘If you need a break, old man, just say so,’ Derek called back and I was almost proud of him for the shit-talking.
Leesa was in the team car today, pointing that phone at me whenever they drew alongside. The phone was starting to annoy me, but not in the way I’d thought it would. It was more intrusive than usual, this sponsor arrangement, but I’d been somewhat prepared for my life to be splashed all over the internet. No, I was miffed that I couldn’t tell what she was thinking as she recorded me.
Sometimes I imagined she was enjoying herself after all, which puffed up my chest so much it probably affected respiration. But I was haunted by memories of her face as she explained how the assignment had triggered all of her complex feelings about the sport –Itriggered her. I hated it.
I had to get her back on the bike. No matter what shit went down in the pro peloton, cycling was a grassroots sport and without that, everything was pointless. Even though she’d retired from the elite, she could ride.
It upset me that she’d sold her bikes. I would have bought one, if I’d known.
We pulled off the road for a drinks break in a high meadow, beneath a row of jagged mountain teeth. Leesa climbed out of the car and stretched and my mind was full of her again in a second – wants and needs. She popped my cork just by…being. All the weird shit deep inside me bubbled to the surface and I couldn’t keep anything in.
I collapsed against the car next to her, peering at her phone as I guzzled my water. The high-altitude sunshine was skinning me alive today and my body was slippery with sweat.
‘You know a way to get even better footage?’ I asked.
