I’d grown up hearing the mantra “be strong and light,” when it seemed like only the second half truly mattered. Now I was leaning into the strong part, which was why I felt like the triple A was possible. I might not be as tiny as I once was, but I was stronger than ever, in so many ways.
At least that’s what I told myself when the impostor syndrome took the wheel.
I got off my bike, sprayed it down, and mopped up the sweat. I was lucky to have the mini gym waiting for me whenever I needed to push myself a little harder. As dicey as my relationship was with my parents, I had them to thank for helping with my room and board. Without them, living on my own wouldn’t be possible, since my chosen career didn’t exactly pay well at this stage, if ever. My apartment wasn’t huge, but they’d made sure it was in a new building, and I had a decent-size bathroom along with a balcony facing the mountains in the distance.
I think I’d sat on that balcony once since I’d moved in a few years prior.
After a shower and quick dinner of salmon, wild rice, and way too much broccoli, I strapped on my trusty plug-in air-compression massage pants and settled on the couch to scrutinize today’s practice videos. Mel called just as I pushed play, like she could feel me about to tear myself to bits.
“I haven’t even started watching yet,” I answered.
“I can’t believe you changed your mind,” she replied. “Proud of you.”
I warmed a little at the p-word. It didn’t matter how far I went in my skating career, deep down I was still a puppy yearning to hear someone tell me “Good girl.”
“Huh? About what?”
“Kim Overton fromThe Scorejust emailed and said you green-lighted it. I wasn’t expecting such a fast change of heart. What happened?”
Fury sparked in my chest at my mom’s latest overreach.
“Damnit,” I fumed. “She literally just emailed them like three hours ago. And it’s late, why are they still working at nine o’clock at night?”
“Who emailed who? I’m confused,” Melanie said.
“Hurricane Tricia. Someone from the production staff accidentally senthera message about me being on the show, and she mentioned it when she called me today. I lied and said I was going to do it, and she immediately took it upon herself to email them back to confirm it. Anything to keep her hooks in me.”
“Huh. Well, here’s to happy accidents. Thanks, Tricia.”
A beat, as I prepared to deliver the punchline.
“Mel, but I’mnotdoing it.”
“Excuse me?”
It was impossible to put my thoughts in order, so I just opened my mouth and let the gibberish flow. “I’m just not comfortable with any of it. It’s too much, and the timing is terrible. I hate all of it. Interviewing my parents, being observed, dealing withBen.”
I said his name like it tasted bad.
“What’s wrong with Ben?”
“Long story.”
I heard a sigh. “Your flip-flopping has me really confused, but I’m going to take this little slipup as a sign from the cosmos that it’s happening.”
“Uh,no, I’ve been pretty consistent that I wasn’t agreeing to it,” I replied.
A silent stalemate stretched on.
“Well, we’re painted in a corner now,” Mel finally admitted. “I’m sorry, Quinn, but we can’t pull out. When it comes to TV it’s either at a snail’s pace or a sprint, and these guys are already working on scheduling their crew. It would lookincrediblyunprofessional to confirm and then immediately cancel. We need to keep your run-up to the Games squeaky clean. If you come across as flighty, or incapable of making up your mind, people are going to uh... draw conclusions.”
She didn’t have to spell it out for me. My mental health was up for public consumption as well.
“No one would find out that I canceled it,” I protested.
“Quinn, there’s no such thing as privacy these days and you know it. If they sense a story in all this back-and-forth they’ll find a way to leak it. Especially with your mom in the mix. I’m sorry, but you have to walk the line for the next few weeks.”
The implication was loud and clear. There was no need for her to come out and say that the media would be watching me for any hints of faltering. My flameout last time was dramatic, and there was plenty of debate about my mental health after the frantic tears in the kiss and cry in Switzerland.
