Curtis must be wondering why I’m not ordering anything for Brent. Or maybe Brent told him what happened. Do they talk about stuff like that? I glance at Brent, who stands among a bunch of guys I don’t know, and a stab of loss hits me. The loss of a friend.

“Actually, get me two,” I say.

Curtis pushes ten euros across the bar.

“No . . .” I hate guys buying drinks for me. I pull out my wallet, but it’s too late; Heather has taken the note and I don’t have the energy to fight. “Thanks.”

Curtis picks up his Orangina.

“Wait,” I say. “I need your advice about tomorrow. Should I play it safe or go for it?”

He hesitates. Have I overstepped by asking for his help this close to the big comp?

“Brent said you’ve been trying Cripplers,” he says finally. “Did you land any?”

I double-check that Saskia and Odette aren’t within hearing distance. “No. But I came close a couple of times.”

Curtis presses his lips together. “What time’s your heat tomorrow?”

“Ten a.m.”

“The pipe’s going to be hard as nails.”

My shoulders slump. He’s right. The snow won’t have had time to soften up.

He searches my face. “Why do you want this so much, Milla?”

“I told you before. I like to win. You of all people should understand that.”

“I think you want it more than I do.”

“My brother’s a rugby star.” My voice catches in my throat. “I want to show people I have talent, too.”

His tone softens. “You do have talent. You don’t need a competition to prove that.”

I bite my lip so I don’t cry.

“When I compete, you know who I’m really competing against?” he says.

“Brent?”

“No. Myself.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to ride the best I possibly can. Screw everyone else. Yeah, I’m trying to beat them, but I can’t control what they do. I can only control what I do. Forget my sister. Forget your brother. Just compete for you.”

I can see the logic in his words, and his method obviously works for him, but he hasn’t spent his whole life playing catch-up. He was born in the lead. I don’t have that luxury. I swallow hard. “You wouldn’t get it. You’re the older one.”

Something hits me then. Curtis found fame as a snowboarder right about when my brother found it at rugby. Is he the reason Saskia’s the way she is? I feel a wave of sympathy for her. Much as it terrifies me to admit it, she and I are so alike.

Curtis tenses again. Across the room, Julien’s face is all red. “I’m going over,” Curtis says, and hurries off.

I pick up my Orangina.

“That’s bullshit, you know,” says a voice in my ear.