“This is a good point, yet…” I rise up on my tippy toes to look around, but there are so many people it’s hard to see—and most of them seem to be taller than me.
“Who are you looking for?” a girl with a matching Canadian jacket asks. I think she’s on the ski team.
“USA hockey,” Étienne says.
“Oh, I think I saw some hockey players that way.” She points behind us. “May have been Slovakia though. The colors are similar.”
“Thank you,” Étienne says, then turns to me. “Worth a shot.”
We head in the general direction of where we were told to go, and sure enough… there’s a whole group of hockey players, including—
“There’s your man.”
I shove Étienne. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s okay if you like him more than just a fling.”
“It’s not,” I say. “Because this is ending.”
Étienne sighs. “Yeah, tell me about it…”
I narrow my eyes at him. “In the same boat?”
“Meh.” He waves me off.
But I know what that means.
Yes. He’s in the same boat, and there is someone he’s going to miss too.
Étienne and I make our way over to what looks like the entire USA hockey team. Roman’s friend Connor spots us first.
“Hey!” he shouts. “It’s gold medalist Nico Laurent!”
The guys turn and start to clap. I do a little bow, smiling at them all as they congratulate me.
“How does it feel?” Connor asks.
“Indescribable,” is what I go with.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll know the feeling one day,” he says, hanging his head.
“You guys played a great game,” Étienne adds. “Silver is nothing to sneeze at.”
“But it’s no gold,” another player adds.
“You made it here. That’s something,” I say.
“That’s what I’ve been telling them,” Roman says, giving me a soft smile.
There’s no way that the way I’m looking at him doesn’t give away my feelings, but I don’t care about that. And judging by the way he isn’t pulling his gaze from me, I don’t think he does either.
“Are you leaving tomorrow, Nico?” Connor asks.
“Yes, I am. You?”
“Yep, most of us leave in the morning. Sucks. Really fucking sucks.”
I nod. “I can agree with that.”
