Page 33 of Head Over Wheels

Seb

I had never been happier to see the finish line in my life – and there had been plenty of times when I’d limped to the end, a physical and emotional wreck after a gruelling race.As I threw my bike forward the last metre with a grunt that would shame a tennis player, I thought I might just have made it – and beaten that great fool.

Decelerating after the finish line, I steered wildly in the direction of the orange Harper-Stacked bus, stumbling short of the support team and teetering to the ground. My blood bubbled and my vision blurred as I stuck my head between my knees and just breathed. Disembodied hands clapped me on the back and I heard Colin’s voice as though through a tunnel.

Then I threw up right on the cobblestones of the beautiful Piazza in Siena, with cameras broadcasting my vomit to all corners of the internet. Somewhere inside I was deeply embarrassed, but I had more on my mind.

‘Did I…’ I couldn’t finish my question until I’d heaved in a few more breaths. There were tears on my face. Wow, I was real crash-hot that day. ‘Did I beat him?’

‘You did, son!’ There was no mistaking Tony Gallagher’s voice – or the violent clap on the back that brought another glob of vomit up my throat. With a whimper of relief that it hadn’t all been for nothing, I spat as discreetly as I could, hoping Lori was far, far away. ‘I don’t know where you got it from, but that was a real fight today! Where have you been hiding those legs?’ Tony asked while I prayed that he refrained from any more backslapping.

Despite the lapsed status of my religion, someone heard me and Tony left me to shudder and sway and grimace at the sour taste in my mouth all by myself.

I’d started out distracted, wishing I could ask over the team radio how the women’s race was progressing. I’d seen Lori make a good start, protected by her teammates and cruising comfortably to save energy for the end.

Then I’d recognised Gaetano Maggioli in the peloton and been even more distracted with thoughts of how he’d broken up with Lori inhospital, the heartless bastard.

It was silly – completely immature – but the race had become personal.

I’d launched Colin into an attack on the breakaway group 10 km from the end and then I’d fought Gaetano with everything I had left – which hadn’t been much – for the dubious honour of sixth place.

With that thought, another wash of nausea rose up and I retched again, bringing up nothing. Swiping a dribble of spit off my lower lip, I painstakingly lifted my heavy head – and found Lori standing by the bus, her gaze trained on me.

Ah,shit.

Looking away, I flagged down one of the swannies, waving my hand to make sure he didn’t wander away again after handing me a ketone drink.

‘The women,’ I began, guzzling half of the drink because fluids were life itself to me in that moment. ‘How did our women go?’

His frown made my chest heavy. ‘Lori was in the breakaway with 30 K to go, and you’ll never believe what happened.’

Another wave of nausea. ‘What happened?’

‘A horse ran onto the road! A fecking horse! She came offthe bike and when she got back on, the thing ran after her. I’ve never seen anything like it. Once they got the animal off the road, she only managed tenth.’

Tenth would still have been a dream result for me last year, but I understood that for Lori it was heart-breaking. She was talking to Colin, her expression twitchy, and I wished I could give her a hug – if I hadn’t stunk of sweat and sticky glucose gels and vomit and wasn’t expected in the drug testing tent to take my turn peeing in a cup.

I was a real catch. She must have been relieved we’d agreed sex would be a one-time thing.

Which was why I was so shocked back in my room a few hours later when I opened the door after my shower to find Lori there, chewing on her bottom lip. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her and said, ‘I hope you’ve recovered. You were right. I need my luck back, so drop the towel. We’re doing this again.’

The race wiped from my brain, I’d never got turned on so quickly in my life. But with those motives, I couldn’t go through with this – could I?

10 September 15:23

zpeed.com/voicechannels/@Folklore99/7493376900111

Folklore99: Are you trying to tell me she ends up falling in love with him? Urgh.

LoonieDunes: You can stop gagging now. It’s not that bad. She’s only five years older and he does grow up in the next film.

Folklore99: I bet you have an enormous crush on Natalie Portman.

LoonieDunes: Uh… Humm. Not— Maybe? Is this warm-down harder than usual? What did you set? Do you have the normal view of the ride up on screen? Did you see the guy at the front of the bunch in the pink jersey? Do you think he’s real or a bot?

Folklore99: … Did I say something wrong? Do you have a girlfriend or are you married or something? Does she… know about— Not that we do anything except talk andeven if we— I mean, I might as well be Natalie Portman, since we live across the world from each other and will never meet.

LoonieDunes: Urgh, please shut up. Now I have the mental image of you as Natalie Portman and it’s not helping. I don’t have a girlfriend so you don’t have to get worried. Would you want to imagine me as a Star Wars character?

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