JANUARY 2
There are two full days left until I leave for the preseason Ice Cross training camp in Japan. It sounds like enough time, but it’s not. Not when I’m trying to pack, finalize my personal training and nutrition plans, and ensure my gear is up to the challenge. All while bracing myself for being on the other side of the world from the one person who makes everything in my life feel better.
One day I’m tangled up with him in his bed. Next I’m sorting through protein snacks and compression sleeves as if I haven’t left part of myself in that hospital room. I’ll see Teddy a few more times before I go, so it’s not a goodbye. But the countdown has begun. Every conversation feels heavier, every touch lingers a little longer. Like watching a snow globe settle, knowing someone is about to shake it again. I wish we had more days to see where things might lead, but the timeline isn’t mine to change.
Our conversation yesterday keeps looping in my mind. The way he said,“I don’t fully understand what this is, only that I don’t want it to end.”The way his hand closed around mine, knowinghow easily he could let go, but deciding not to. He’s not the type to say or do something he doesn’t mean, and that’s one of the things I love about him.
But believing him doesn’t stop the fear of something happening to our bubble while I’m away. This awful feeling is slowly rooting itself in me, sinking deeper to my cells every day. I’m staring down weeks of brutal timezone math, jet lag, and a schedule packed tighter than my checked baggage will be. There won’t be time for much besides racing, training, traveling and sleeping. All that leaves little room for us.
The rational part of me—the one who loves color-coded lists—keeps repeating the separation is temporary and we’ll pick up where we left off. If it’s real, it’ll survive the distance. But the irrational part,that bitch, keeps whispering,but what if it doesn’t?
I’ve done the long-distance relationship once and it failed within the first week. The guy I was seeing in nursing school went away on a backpacking trip in southeast Asia. We decided to keep in touch and talk daily while he was away. Everything was going well until one night I checked his social media and saw him tagged in a photo kissing a random woman. I can’t imagine Teddy doing the same, but fears don’t exactly listen to logic.
Shaking the thought off, I refocus on my long to-do list. I have plenty to do before I leave for Japan. I don’t have time to indulge in worst-case scenarios, even if I did just that a moment ago.
My gear is laid out across my living room floor in neat, organized rows. Blades are sharpened to perfection, pads cleaned and aired while spare parts are packed in labeled pouches. My lucky pink mouthguard is tucked into its glittery case. Everything has a place.
This should be the satisfying part. A ritual I know well. Instead of feeling calm, my nerves are buzzing with unease.
“Is this what your brain looks like all the time?” Kayla, Max’s girlfriend, asks from the doorway to the kitchen, sipping spiked hot chocolate. I have mine next to me on the coffee table. “Because it’s terrifyingly efficient.”
She’s been in New York for twenty-four hours and made herself at home after Max had to duck out for a last-minute project yesterday. Which I don’t mind, because I needed this; time with a friend to help distract me while I pretend my heart isn’t pulling me in two directions: half already in Japan, half in Teddy’s bed.
She’s in my old college hoodie and a pair of biker shorts. Her wild blonde curls are pulled back with a scrunchie, her fuzzy socks mismatched, and her laugh makes my small apartment feel more alive than it has in weeks.
I’m thrilled Max finally pulled his head out of his ass and asked Kayla out. We saw the chemistry between them last season, but my brother can be a bit slow in the romance department. Still, better late than never. I adore her, too, even if she’s one of my main competitors in the Circuit.
“You’reactuallythat girl,” she states, flipping through my handwritten checklist with a dramatic gasp. “Lists with bullet points and subheadings? Ivy, sweetie. Are you kidding me?”
“Organization is sexy. You’ll thank me when your charger isn’t tangled with dirty socks.”
She lifts the mug in toast. “To sexy spreadsheets.”
“To not forgetting my knee brace in Switzerland this season.”
We clink our hot chocolates with a splash of Bailey’s—my official “I’m packing for the Circuit” drink. Kayla sets the list aside and collapses onto my couch as I rotate through my gear: pads, gloves, extra visor, resistance bands, backup laces, the works.
“You’ve been weirdly quiet all evening. Are you freaking out about the upcoming season or is it something else?”
Of course she noticed. Kayla might be chaos wrapped in a racer’s body, but she reads people better than anyone I know.
Sitting back on my heels, I let out a long breath. “It’s not the racing.”
She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow.Damn, I need to get mine done before leaving. “Boy trouble?”
“Not exactly.”
“Trouble-adjacent, then?”
“Maybe.” She waits, not pressing the matter. Just sips her drink and studies me in silence, making me groan. “It’s someone I met at work,” I admit nervously. “Someone I wasn’t supposed to fall for. But it happened, and now it feels more real than anything else ever has. Leaving him behind feels wrong, but unless I invent a way to cross the ocean in seconds, I can’t change it.”
Kayla whistles under her breath. “Wow. Should I grab the emergency marshmallows?”
“I’m being dramatic, aren’t I?”
“Only a little. However, if it feels real, then it most likelyisvalid. I would ask what his name is, but your brother told me about Teddy.”
Heat creeps up my neck. Of course Max couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I chew on my lip ring, torn between mortification and relief that I don’t have to say his name out loud. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
