I nodded, hoping he was right.
“Don’t forget,” Jesse continued. “They get three runs. The top two scores are added to get their totals.”
Three runs. He had this.
The first four snowboarders completed their first runs, the highest earning an eighty. I knew my brother had more than an eighty in his wheelhouse. And he didn’t disappoint, flipping and giving the fans a move that had won him gold in Aspen. If he pulled that off in run one, I wondered what he was holding back for runs two and three. When he finished in front of us, he winked at Shay before turning to the leaderboard, awaiting his score. Jesse patted him on the back and said something into his ear as he waited. Soon, an 88 appeared on the leaderboard. I wondered if Thayer would have a hard time beating that or if he had his own tricks planned. He had earned an 89.5 in qualifiers. The four snowboarders after Kason didn’t even come close to touching his score.
“Thayer Caruthers dropping in next for the US,” the announcer’s voice echoed across the mountain.
I closed my eyes, praying for a good first run. When I opened them, Thayer was on his way down, catching the corner of the ramp and flipping once, twice, three times, four times before landing hard.
I released my breath and smiled as he skidded to a stop in front of us, his eyes locked on mine. I hadn’t realized how terrified I’d been watching him flip so high and with added twists. In qualifiers, he only did enough to get him to the finals. This was him going all out, and it suddenly scared the hell out of me. He turned to the leaderboard, and Jesse patted him on the back, saying something into his ear like he had for Kason.
An 86 appeared on the leaderboard, and the crowd erupted.
Tears pricked my eyes as Thayer looked at me with that smirk that I loved so much. If only his mother could be there to see him. I gave him the best reassuring smile I could muster before he took off for the snowmobile that would take him back up the mountain.
“They’re first and third,” Jesse said.
“Yeah, I can see that,” I said as Thayer’s name appeared in the third-place spot on the board.
“This is so exciting,” Shay said.
“You call it exciting. I call it terrifying.”
She laughed.
“It’s not funny. I never get this nervous when Kason’s competing. Why am I a nervous wreck over Thayer?”
“Because you love him,” she said matter-of-factly.
I exhaled. “Yeah.”
She smiled, likely because it was the first time I’d confessed the full extent of my feelings for him to Shay. “Any idea of how things turned out this morning? I didn’t see Kason after?”
“What things?” I asked.
“Thayer stopped by to see Kason.”
“When?”
“On his way here, I think.”
My mouth hung slightly open. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah, I thought it was a ballsy move, given they were on their way to compete against each other.”
“I didn’t notice any black eyes,” I said.
“Me neither. Maybe it means?—”
“Let’s hope,” I said.
32
THAYER
I stood off to the side as the first snowboarder dropped in for his final run. Thanks to my strong second run, I’d switched places with Ousterman, who’d been in second place. Now it was Kason in the number one spot with his 88 and 86.50 totaling 174.50. And me in second place with my two 87s totaling 174.