Ethan snorted. “Situationship.”
“Brother,” Nathan said to me, ignoring him completely, “the group chat has been through hell because of you two.”
“Nathan nearly stopped breathing during the kiss,” Brooke added with a grin.
“Who wouldn’t?” Nathan said defensively. “That was fuckingcinematic.”
Luka blinked. “There is a group chat?”
Everybody went silent.
Ethan bit his lip. “Oops. That part was classified.”
“Oh my God,” Brooke managed to get out between laughs. “Nobody told him?”
“No one wassupposedto tell him,” Nathan shot back.
Luka narrowed his gaze. “Why do I suddenly feel afraid?”
I was already afraid. “You named a group chat after us?”
Noah appeared delighted. “You wanna know the worst part?”
“There’s a worse part?”
“It started as a joke,” Ethan admitted. “Well, maybe it was just ironic.”
Luka’s gaze grew suspicious. “What is the name of this group chat?”
Nobody answered right away, and that silence alone shaved ten years off my lifespan.
Brooke cracked first. “‘Skate Meat.’ And that’s M-E-A-T.”
Luka stared at her. Nathan folded in half laughing.
I tried not to choke.
“You people are deeply unwell.” Luka shook his head. “That was the chosen title?” He covered his face with one hand while everybody dissolved again.
“It tested well with audiences,” Noah remarked.
“The audience was Ethan and a bottle of Powerade,” Sasha added.
Athletes kept drifting over once they realized who was standing there, and congratulations started overlapping into one giant blur, some directed toward Nathan and Brooke finally getting their Olympic podium after years of heartbreak, some toward Luka and Mila for silver, and increasingly toward me for apparently choosing the most televised possible method of coming out as bisexual.
A Finnish skater walked past, gave us a thumbs up, and said, “About time.”
“About time?” Luka repeated after him once he was gone. “What does that mean?”
Ethan seemed deeply offended. “Luka, you’ve spent most of the Olympics trying not to be obvious about staring at Dean—and failing miserably.”
He gaped. “I have not.”
Nathan cackled. “Oh, you absolutely have. We have evidence. It’s all over the Internet. But to be fair, Dean kept looking at you like God had made you just for him.”
“And don’t even think about denying it,” Brooke said with a gleam in her eye.
Luka’s face had gone red by then, though either embarrassment or happiness. Then again, maybe both.
