“There won’t be any drama.”
Olivia moves on to the next topic, something about hair and makeup, and I zone out again, let her voice fade into background noise.
Ancient history. Mature about the whole thing. No drama.
I wonder if Olivia knows Garrett cheated. If Garrett told Owen the real reason we broke up. If they all know and just decided not to mention it because it’s easier to pretend that everything is fine.
The call lasts another thirty minutes but it feels like hours. By the time we hang up, my ankle is numb from the ice and my head is throbbing.
I have five weeks until the wedding. Five weeks to figure out how to stand next to my sister and smile while Garrett is ten feet away, probably with his new girlfriend, celebrating his best friend’s happiness while mine is still bleeding out.
Five weeks to become the kind of person who can handle that without falling apart.
I can do this. I can handle one weekend. It’s a wedding. A performance, just like any skating program.
I only have to be perfect. My ankle throbs in agreement, reminding me I already know how to smile through pain.
4
RODRIGUEZ
The facility gymis usually empty at 6 AM, which is exactly why I’m here.
Almardon is the only person here, already on the rowing machine doing whatever masochistic workout routine he’s obsessing over this month. The slide and click of the machine echoes in the space. He treats training like it’s a religion.
“You’re here early,” he calls over the rhythmic sound of the rower, not even breathing hard. “What’d you do?”
“Why do you think I did something?”
“Because you’re here at 6 and practice doesn’t start until 9. You never show up early, voluntarily anyway.”
I ignore him and head to the weight rack, loading up the bar. The plates clang against each other as I slide them on. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Uh huh.” Almardon doesn’t sound convinced. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain figure skater, would it? How’d the whole vulnerable honesty thing work out?”
I’ve been thinking about that bench. The coffee sitting between us. The way she didn’t say anythingwhen I walked away.
I drop the weight. It clangs way louder than I meant it to. “I don’t know yet.”
“You don’t know?”
“I left before she decided.”
“Maybe it’s not you at all. Like, maybe it’s something that has nothing to do with you.” Almardon’s voice is reasonable, which somehow makes it worse. “People don’t usually go Ice Queen mode for no reason.”
He’s probably right. I’ve been so focused on my knee, on getting back to practice, that I haven’t stopped to think about it. But yesterday was different. That wasn’t just “not interested.” She was hostile. Like I’d personally offended her just by existing.
“Whatever. When are you going to stop focusing about my Ice Queen and tell me about the mystery girl you’re dating.”
“When the time is right. Which you wouldn’t know anything about since Juliette won’t give you the time of day.”
I ignore him and focus on my setup, lying back on the bench. The padding is cool against my shoulders through my shirt.
“You need to let it go,” Almardon continues, and he doesn’t sound mean about it. Just honest. “She’s not interested.”
The problem is I can’t let it go. I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried. When I saw her that one time in September at the rink that was it. I was done. Just completely gone.
“I’m just being friendly,” I tell Almardon, starting my reps. The weight moves up and down in a steady rhythm, my muscles burning with the movement.
