Unfortunately I did.
Dean pointed at me. “See? That face, right there.”
“What face?”
“The one you get whenever somebody suggests life might occasionally involve things other than training schedules.”
I stared at him.
Dean grinned. “And there it is again.”
“Sometimes you are impossible to talk to.”
“Maybe.” He stretched his arms over his head. “But at least I know what normal people do.”
I blinked. “Normal people?”
“Yeah.” His grin widened. “And that’s the real problem.”
I groaned.
Dean ignored me. “You’ve never had a terrible summer job.”
For a moment I genuinely wasn’t sure how we had arrived there.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it again.
“I worked at an ice rink,” I protested.
“That doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“Because skating doesn’t count.”
I gaped at him. “Oh, I think it does.”
“No. Skating is the reason you’ve missed half the ordinary experiences everybody else takes for granted.”
I folded my arms. “I attended school.”
“You trained before school, after school, and during vacations.”
I speared him with an intense look. “That is how athletes train.”
“Exactly.”
I was beginning to dislike that word.
“You’ve never worked in a restaurant.”
