Chapter 3 #2
“That’s funny because I distinctly remember you quitting right here, sitting beside me on this fucking chairlift like you are right now.”
Adrien shifts again. “Sergio, I didn’t quit … not yet, at least.”
Sergio whips his head around and looks directly at his brother beside him. “You’re still quitting?”
Adrien holds his hands up in defense in front of his shoulders. “Still? Sergio, I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about that yet and given your”—he gestures his hands in opposite circles at Sergio— “state right now, this isn’t the time to have this conversation.”
“So, you are quitting?” Sergio asks again as the chairlift drops them off at the top of the slope.
“Look, Sergio,” Adrien says, skiing to a stop and taking a deep breath. “I don’t want anything to ever come between us. Which is why I have to quit working for you.”
“Fine. Whatever, asshole,” Sergio says and propels himself forward to ski down the mountain and away from Adrien. Shouting over his shoulder as he goes, “But just so you know, you quitting is something that will come between us.”
“Did you guys have fun?” Holden asks once they find each other on the bunny hills.
Sergio, the same as from his yesterday, doesn’t get a chance to answer as Henry is already calling his name. “Uncle Sergio! Look!” he shouts, then zooms down the hill past him, flipping forward to a stop like he’d done the previous day before to land on his rump. “Did you see?”
“Yeah, I saw,” Sergio says, planting a fake and rigid smile on his face in an attempt to remain positive in Henry’s presence.
Whatever is going on is not Henry’s fault, which gives him an idea.
Elaborate joke or not that might be being played at his expense, it is unlikely that Henry is in on it.
There’s no way he could ever remember to keep the terms of some complicated prank clear in his head for longer than five minutes.
Sergio skis over to the fallen and giggling child and lifts him back onto his feet, then crouches down and helps him out of his skis. “Henry, what day is it?”
“Thursday?”
“No.” Sergio laughs, the first genuine one of his day. “Well, actually yes, it is Thursday. But what’s the date? It’s a holiday, right?”
“It’s New Year’s Eve!” Henry answers excitedly. “I’m going to the Weirs’ for a party. Do you want to come?”
Sergio twists up his lips and considers. Given how he remembers the events of New Year’s Eve going yesterday, a child’s celebration is likely to be far more fun, though not necessarily plausible. Frowning, he says, “I think I have my own party I have to go to.”
Henry nods in understanding. “The one my mom and dad and Jeremy are going to.”
“That’s the one.”
“You should tell Jeremy you’re sorry there.”
Sergio’s frown deepens, his lips pulling down farther, and he wonders how his faux pas is still so fresh on Henry’s mind.
After all, to Sergio, it was two days ago.
But, he supposes, if nobody seems to remember yesterday, his incident with Jeremy only happened last night.
And if apologizing to Jeremy is all it will take for everyone to be on the same page, or God help him, the same day, he can suck up his pride—what’s left of it at this point—and utter the magic words before the clock strikes twelve.
At the party—filled with the same revelers as before, the same who’s who of winter sports mingling with the who’s who of hangers-on and sponsorships, all glad-handing each other like this is the first time they’ve ever met—Sergio watches from where he’s perched once again at the bar.
He’d be bored if he weren’t so frustrated.
The rest of his day carried on the same as the morning, with everyone acting like Sergio was losing his shit.
The effect of which has Sergio really wanting to lose his shit.
Instead, he’s opted for drowning himself in whiskey, hoping that at some point he’ll get the chance to do what Henry suggested earlier and apologize to Jeremy for his insensitivity.
But what insensitivity is he meant to apologize for?
His blunder in assuming Jeremy had too much to drink instead of a neurological disorder, or his punch to Chadwick Levinson’s nose in Jeremy’s honor, that nobody seems to remember.
Reasonably, he figures it’s the former as he watches Jeremy work the room with Rose while Chadwick, completely lacking any evidence of having been punched, works Allison into his good graces in a nearby corner.
“What’s wrong?” Adrien asks him. “You’re not still upset about earlier, are you?”
“No,” Sergio says, and this time he means it. It seems his brother's quitting is an inevitable fact he’s going to have to accept. He finishes what’s left of his drink in one large gulp.
“Then what are you moping about?” Adrien asks and orders another whiskey from the bartender for Sergio, as well as a gin and tonic for himself.
“I’m not moping,” Sergio grumbles.
“You kind of are,” Adrien says, and pauses. He looks at Sergio with his head tilted slightly to the side in thought. “I get it, though. It’s been a rough twenty-four hours.”
With his gaze back on Jeremy, Sergio blindly grabs his drink from the bartender and takes a sip. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
“This isn’t easy for me either, you know?” Adrien says, sipping his drink as well. Sergio can feel his brother’s eyes boring a hole into his temple. “It’s not a decision I came to lightly.”
“I’m sure it’s not.” Sergio brushes him off. He may have accepted Adrien’s resignation, but that doesn’t mean he’s in the mood to hear his reasoning. Especially when that reasoning is likely Daphne.
“Daphne and I—”
“Adrien, please. Not tonight.”
“Alright,” Adrien says with a light pat on Sergio’s shoulder. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”
“If there even is a tomorrow.” Sergio goes back to his grumbling.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Adrien. Go have fun.” He grabs his drink and walks away from his brother.
He pauses his steps once he reaches the center of the room and debates which way to go.
Allison is trying to catch his eye with a slight lift of her hand and a pleading raise of her right eyebrow, as if to say, ‘Please get me away from this blowhard.’ He could go that route and help her, but he’d wind up ending tonight in much the same manner as he did the night before.
His other option is to cut straight to Jeremy, who’s being slowly pushed out of the conversation going on with Rose and the gathered sports reporters.
The reporters have all but muscled him out of their circle.
Looking to heed Henry’s advice, Sergio begins to make a beeline, albeit a slightly stumbling one reminiscent of a bumblebee and less a productive and determined worker bee gathering pollen, to where Jeremy is standing with his feet shuffling awkwardly as he tries to re-ingratiate himself into the conversation.
A pang of something that resembles pity hits Sergio in the chest, stiffening the area around his heart.
It’s uncomfortable to watch Jeremy get shunned by the same people who followed him around like he was a god four years ago.
“Listen, Jeremy,” he says as he approaches him. “Can I talk to you?”
“This isn’t really a great time,” Jeremy says, gesturing at the nearby reporters.
“It’s alright, Jeremy,” one reporter says. “We’re done with you.”
“Oh, alright then,” Jeremy says and turns to Sergio, looking dejected. “I guess now is a fine time.”
Sergio winces internally, feeling that after that, this is absolutely not the right time to bring up his own callous misstep regarding Jeremy.
But forge on, he will in his desperation to lighten this awful feeling of sinking he has in his chest. “Look,” he starts with as they begin to walk away from the reporters and Rose. “About the other night.”
“You mean last night?” Jeremy’s lips press together. He eyes Sergio up and down, and Sergio can’t help but notice how tired Jeremy looks. There’s something in his eyes, a harshness that says he wishes he were anywhere but here right now. Not only talking to Sergio, but at this party.
“Yeah, last night.” Sergio agrees. He offers him a soft smile, hoping to warm Jeremy in his favor before he continues. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” Jeremy sighs. “I’m pretty used to it by now.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to offend.”
“You didn’t.”
“I kind of think I did,” Sergio presses on. “And I didn’t mean to.”
“Nobody ever means to,” Jeremy says, carefully making his way through the crowd with Sergio keeping step beside him.
Each of his steps is deliberate, and Sergio suppresses the urge to grab onto Jeremy’s elbow to keep him steady and lead him somewhere quieter and less crowded.
But Jeremy seems to have his own determined destination in mind.
It’s not until he hears Chadwick Levinson’s voice that Sergio realizes where Jeremy has led them.
“Nobody thought Jeremy Owens could be beat,” Chadwick blusters to an annoyed-looking Allison. Sergio groans at his words. Apparently, he’s doomed to hear this conversion between the two rivals no matter how it’s provoked.
“I couldn’t,” Jeremy says, stepping in beside Allison.
Chadwick stands up a little straighter and looks Jeremy up and down. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he says with a haughty lilt to his voice. Sergio immediately remembers why it felt so good to punch this asshole the night before.
“I should really thank you,” Chadwick says. “Nike was so focused on making you the future face of figure skating that they completely overlooked me for ages. Once you walked away from that endorsement, I took off. Now, look where I am!”
“I didn’t walk away,” Jeremy says.
Sergio can taste the bitterness radiating off of Jeremy. Despite how thick it is, he keeps his cool. Sergio’s punch did not go over well last night. If he wants to make any inroads with Jeremy, he needs to keep his fists to himself.
Chadwick lifts his hand as if lazily swatting a fly on a hot summer day. “It’s fine. You can admit you couldn’t handle the pressure.”
“I handled the pressure just fine,” Jeremy says. “And you damn well know it.”
Sergio looks at Allison standing on the other side of Chadwick. She seems to be having the same reaction that he is: careful silence and a clenched fist at her side. He’s half tempted to wait this out and see if Allison throws the punch this time.
“Maybe,” Chadwick says, his tone bored. He shifts his attention back to Allison. “Remember what I offered. My coaching staff would love to take you on.”
Allison positions herself beside Jeremy. “I’m fine where I am.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you know how to reach me,” Chadwick says and turns to walk away from them. When he does, he finally notices Sergio. “Sergio? Sergio Durand!”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s me,” Sergio says in defeat right as Holden hops on stage to announce the beginning of the countdown.
“Ten!”
“It’s good to see you,” Chadwick says.
“Nine!”
“Don’t tell me you know Allison, too?” Chadwick asks.
“Eight!”
“Yeah, I know her …”
“Seven!”
“… well, I know Rose and Jeremy.”
“Six!”
Chadwick leans in a little closer. “It’s a shame she’s training with them …”
“Five!”
“… I mean, Rose is great and all …”
“Four!”
“… but Jeremy.” Chadwick winces.
“Three!”
“He’s lost whatever magic people thought he had.”
“Two!”
Sergio can’t help himself. It feels even better to hit him this time.
“One! Happy …”