“He doesn’t know how rare he is,” I agree.
Kennedy drops her arm from my shoulder and holds it out wide to encompass the entire arena. “Yeah. He’s a star. This fanbase is completely in love with him.”
“I’m not talking about that.”
She nods slowly. “I know, Finley.” Kennedy does a three-sixty spin before coming in closer than before. “Have you told himeverythingabout yourself?”
My eyes snap to hers, hackles rising at the knowledge that she knows something I never told her. One of her hands nervously runs through her hair. I hate that Gemma revealed my bipolar disorder, but I have to believe she did it because she needed support. And I can tell Kennedy doesn’t want to bring this up. She’s doing it because she loves Zach. How can I possibly blame her for that?
I tamp down my instinct to flee.
“I don’t know if I could stand him looking at me differently,” I whisper, voicing the fear I keep stuffing down. It roars louder the more time I spend with Zach. I’m too invested to play off a negative reaction as anything other than heartbreaking.
Kennedy’s brow wrinkles. “You think he would?”
“Not on purpose. Not consciously.”
It would be difficult to accept. I couldn’t be around him, watching him school his features into acceptance. Because he might want me, but he can’t possibly want someone whose mental state could disrupt his entire life in unpredictable ways without much warning.
“It’s been a month. Would you have told Alexei?”
She bursts into unexpected laughter. “Not unless my life depended on it. But our story is different from yours, trust me. He wasn’t looking at me likethatquite yet.”
Kennedy tips her head toward the other side of the rink, where Alexei and Zach stand against the boards. My stomach hits the floor when Zach’s stare collides with mine. He doesn’t look away, continuing to hold eye contact, communicating silently how much he cares for me.
“What did you think when Gem told you about my condition?”
She replies without a moment’s hesitation. “I thought if there’s anyone who could manage a difficult hand, it’s the girl who made a four-inch beam her bitch with a Worlds silver medal on the line.”
A breathy laugh gushes out of me. “I didn’t know I'm in the company of afan.”
She holds up her thumb and finger close together, a little space between them. “After my mom died, I spent a lot of time at home. I went through a period watching gymnastics.”
I don’t know what to say. It’s no secret Kennedy’s mom passed away tragically, but I have no magic words other than the inadequateI’m sorry.
Thankfully, she doesn't expect a response. “Consider this payback for how you helped me. I don’t think Zach could learn anything about you that would change his mind. It’s not only because he’s loyal and unwavering, though he truly is both. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you, and I’ve spent a lot of time with him these past couple of years. It’sprobably why Alexei is over there talking his ear off when he’d rather do anything other than talk aboutfeelings.”
An anvil drops on my chest. “He’s warning him off?”
“Oh, no! Alexei would never do that. We’re both team Zinley.” I ignore the couple name she gives us when we are not, in fact, a couple. At least, I don’t think we are. “Zach’s like the annoying little brother he never had, and he’s worried. We both are. The concussion had Alexei in astate,even though”—Kennedy drops her voice low, saying the remaining words with a Russian accent—“it’s hockey and people get hurt.”
A familiar refrain in the Harris household.
I grin. “I bet he hates when you talk in that voice.”
She beams back. “Oh yeah… so naturally, I make sure to do it at least once a day. I think my fake accent is getting pretty good. He disagrees, but it doesn’t stop me.”
I can’t remember the last time I confided in a girlfriend, not since my gymnastics days. Even then, I was always on guard because my friends were also my competition, and some of them made that abundantly clear. It made for a lonely existence.
“I really like him,” I say, the words barely audible over the noise surrounding us. “It’s scary how much I like him.”
“Aw, Fi.” Kennedy wraps her arms around me, and I give into the hug. Mark this off the bingo card of events I never imagined. She’s not what I consider the warmest of people, especially compared to the sunbeam that is Gemma Harris. I also don’t project the kind of openness that invites friendship. “It scared the shit out of me too. It works out when it should—not because of any stupid thing like fate, but because people step up when it’s right.”
Her words sooth an ache in my chest I didn’t realize was there. An ache from wanting the deep, lasting love story I thought bipolar disorder made impossible. Kennedy’s words whisper hope that once would’ve been reckless to hold onto. Now itdoesn’t seem far-fetched therightsomeone could care for me despite the challenges I bring.
“I’m here if you ever need to talk, Finley,” Kennedy says, placing her hand on my shoulder as we pull out of the hug.
My heart soars at the offer. “Thank you, Kennedy. Seriously.”
