Nothing.
"Hey." My voice bounced off the tile. "Wake up."
The arm shifted. He groaned, and this time it sounded like he meant it. The arm came down. He squinted up at the lights, then at me. His eyes were bloodshot, the green of them clouded, andfor a second he just stared at me like I was a math problem he couldn't solve.
"Shit," he said. He sat up too fast and grabbed his head with both hands. "What time is it?"
"Six minutes to five." I sat down on the opposite bench and started unlacing my shoes. "You smell like a dive bar."
He laughed, rough and wet. "That's generous. Dive bar's probably an upgrade."
I kept my eyes on my laces.
"I'm Red, by the way." He cleared his throat. "Don't think I got a chance to introduce myself yesterday."
"You didn't. I cut you off."
He just stood there, and I realized he was waiting for me to tell him my name.
I considered not telling him, but that felt petty, even for me.
"Joel," I said. "Joel Coffey."
The hungover haze burned off, and he sat up straighter, staring at me like I'd just told him I was the president. "Joel Coffey," he repeated. "Holy shit. You're the quad guy."
I hated that. The quad guy. Like that was all I was.
"My sister-in-law is obsessed with figure skating," he said. "You're like... you're famous."
"I'm not really."
"Dude, you're on cereal boxes."
"One cereal box. Once. And it was granola."
He laughed, and it was warmer than before. "What the hell are you doing in New Mexico?"
"I live here."
"Yeah, but why?"
Because no one knows me here. Because I can skate at five in the morning without someone recognizing my face. Because I got tired of being the quad guy and the gay guy and my father's son.
"I like the weather," I said.
He snorted. "Okay, man. Keep your secrets." He stood up, swayed once, and caught himself on the locker behind him. "I'm gonna go shower before I make you puke. Give me five minutes." He grabbed his gear bag and headed for the showers.
"You can’t tell anyone," I blurted. "About me, I mean. I train here because no one knows who I am. I'd like to keep it that way."
He studied me. "Sure. Our secret."
Then he was gone, and I sat there staring at the empty doorway like an idiot.
Our secret. He'd just handed me his silence like it cost him nothing. Like privacy was something people just gave each other without expecting anything back.
The shower ran for exactly three minutes. He came out with wet hair and fresh clothes, still looking like death, but at least death that had been recently rinsed. The curls were darker when wet, dripping onto the collar of his clean t-shirt.
"Ready?" he asked, like we'd planned this.
