Chapter 42 Sonya
SONYA
The guys go to the party early to look for Jung while Kavi kidnaps me and drags me to my hotel room, so I can grab my luggage, and then to her hotel room so we can get ready together.
“We’re going to look hot,” she declares, dumping a whole bunch of outfit options on the bed and then helping me do the same.
Before getting started, we sit down and devour some nachos. Then we wrap ourselves in blankets and talk as much as we can for the next hour.
Kavi shows me pictures from the tropical vacation that she and Lokhov snuck in before this tournament started. My shoulders are shaking, and I’m covering my face and stifling snickers. “How did you convince him to wear those clothes?”
Her husband, Dmitri, is a very serious and intense man. Kavi is showing me pictures of him in floral shorts and a floral bucket hat, holding a drink with an umbrella in it. His mouth is half-curved up, which is tantamount to him uproariously laughing.
Kavi tilts her head, a sly smile creeping across her face. “I have my ways.”
“You both look so good in the photos. Healthy. Happy.”
My best friend scoots over, so we can clink our drink glasses together. “I’m happier now that you’re here.”
Joy shoots in all directions inside me. For some reason, when she tells me that she wants me around, I believe her. Kavi’s sincerity is so clear and powerful that it sneaks under my normal defenses. Our friendship is different from any other relationship I have in my life.
“I can’t believe it’s only been a few weeks since we last saw each other.” I curl my fingers around my gin and tonic. “Feels longer.”
“I’ve missed you.”
Warmth moves up my throat. Reaching out, I squeeze her hand. “Same.”
She leans forward. “Now, tell me everything going on with you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re skimping out on the details,” she says with a raised eyebrow.
My heart rate jumps.
Even if my life’s been strictly routine for the last few years, Kavi has always wanted to hear about it.
She listens so intently when I’m talking about ballet, about what I’m performing, how I’m training for it, things like how I’m doing yoga to stay flexible, and that I hate dunking my feet in ice water, so I can be ready for…
you guessed it, ballet the next day. Kavi knows my dating life has been a barren wasteland for a while.
And that the only time I take off is when we hang out or when I see Quinn.
Times when they cajole me to watch movies, go out for dinner, and sometimes play card games.
All of those things are what I’m used to talking about.
I nibble on a leftover tortilla chip, and then rub my palms on my knees.
It strikes me that this is the first time I have something to discuss with her that’s knocked me over and tied me into knots of stress that I’m struggling to detangle.
My palms go damp.
Kavi scans me up and down, then gets off the couch and walks around it. Her hands form into circles and press against her eyes.
“What are you doing?” I ask. The tone of my voice is pitchy.
“It’s best friend x-ray vision.”
“And?”
“Something’s wrong.”
I down half of my gin and tonic in one gulp.
Kavi grimaces on my behalf, then sits again.
I point to her phone and clear my throat. “I want to hear more about your trip. Show me more pictures.”
“Hm. Okay.” She taps her lip with her finger, watching me closely. “I do have something to tell you.”
My back slumps against the couch. I’m relieved, glad the focus is off me. “What is it?”
“I have a problem.”
Never mind. This pit in my stomach grows. “What problem?”
“I haven’t told you about it.”
I reach over and grip her hand. “What’s going on?”
“I’m scared and it’s very stressful.”
“Tell me everything,” I demand.
“Will you help?”
“Of course,” I promise, shaking her hand. “You know that. What is it? We’ll figure it out. You don’t have to—”
“Do it alone?” Kavi brings our joined hands closer to her. “Exactly, Sonya! I lied. I don’t have a problem. I said that to prove a point.” Brown eyes nervously find mine. “And you jumped at wanting to help and got so worried—”
“Because we’re best friends—”
“Exactly! So why don’t you trust me with your troubles? Because I can sense you’re not okay. Am I wrong? Look into my eyes and tell me my best friend instincts aren’t as good as I think they are, that I don’t know you as well as I do, that I’m making things up in my head—“
I flinch backward. “I could never insult you like that.”
“Then?”
“You’re my person. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend—”
“I’m so lucky to have you, but why does that mean we’re not telling each other things?” she asks.
I see hurt in her expression, and it makes my stomach feel inside-out. The thought of losing Kavi suddenly flashes in my mind, and it scares me. Not that I haven’t lost people in my life before—I have. Obviously.
But for reasons I can’t explain, losing Kavi would be painful in a very specific and devastating way.
She’s the only person I text almost every day.
The one I make consistent plans with and who doesn’t get mad at me when I get busy, because when we get together again, it’s like nothing has changed.
I haven’t had her in my life for very long, but from the moment she entered it, it’s felt like she’s always been there.
She’s my best friend.
I’m shaking my head fiercely, almost scared. “No, that’s not it. Me not telling you about what I’m going through isn’t about our friendship.”
“Then why?”
I swallow, because how do I explain this? “It’s…that as soon as I tell you…” My eyes close. “Once you…my best friend…knows…it’ll become real. And I don’t want this thing…to be real.”
The truth of what I’ve said tugs at me.
My eyes open and I gulp. “I’ve been trying really hard to convince myself that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and be fine. I know that sounds dumb.”
I wait for her judgment, wrapping my arms around myself.
“It doesn’t.” Kavi rests her head on the pillow next to mine. Her expression is so open and caring that it makes my throat ache. “Remember I was in denial for so long back when I was still with my ex—”
The douchebag, Tyler.
“—I didn’t want to admit to myself how crappy that relationship made me feel.
Part of that was me not having enough confidence in myself back then, but you?
” Kavi smiles at me. “You’ve always been so sure of yourself, like the most stubbornly sure.
And that’s helped you accomplish a lot, but I also think it makes it worse if you’re struggling.
Because you think you just need to be more sure and more stubborn and everything will get better, but that isn’t necessarily the solution, Sonya.
Sometimes you can’t figure it out on your own.
Sometimes you should ask for help. And guess what?
” Her smile’s brighter than before, impossibly brighter.
“People who love you like to be bothered. Bother them with your stuff, because here’s a secret… .They’re not actually bothered.”
My fingers splay out on the blanket. It’s as if she’s snuck inside me and knows how I think.
“Can you tell me?” she pleads. “What’s been going on?”
“Okay.”
We wrap ourselves up more cosily in blankets as I explain. Because it’s me, I’m not dwelling on feelings. More so summarizing the events as succinctly as I can.
When I’m done, Kavi looks me in the eye.
“Fair warning, I’m going to hug you. It’s going to be a long one.
I might blubber a little.” She carries out her threat and promises, “I’m going to be there at your audition.
Don’t argue, you just have to accept it.
Also, screw Madame Kozlova! What a snake!
I hate her. She doesn’t know what she’s done, letting you go.
” She takes a deep breath before continuing.
“You’re incredible and resilient and a fantastic dancer no matter what.
These yips are only a temporary setback.
She should’ve believed in you and stood by you.
Doesn’t she know you’re an unstoppable force? Because you are.”
My face sinks into her sweater. I’m hiding my eyes. They’ve gone misty.
Why does it keep surprising and moving me that there’s this person, this best friend who aggressively believes in me, defends me, and thinks I can conquer the world?
What have I done to earn this? I know Kavi would tell me I don’t need to earn it at all, but there’s so much gratitude expanding inside me right now, I don’t know where to put it.
This friendship doesn’t feel like a friendship, but a lifeline; one I’ve always poured myself into but was afraid to rely on, rather wanting Kavi to have me as a source of her strength instead.
“What do you need today?” Kavi asks, releasing me from the hug.
I rub my nose with the back of my hand. “Honestly, maybe a distraction. I don’t want to think about any of it for once.”
We look at each other.
Kavi exclaims, “More drinks!”
My mouth curves. I’m nodding and lifting my glass. Another round is poured, music is turned up, and now we’re pulling possible outfits and tossing them aside.
Kavi holds up a sparkly minidress. “So, about Adrian. He’s…”
“…as annoying as ever.”
“When are you going to have sex?”
“Kavi!”
She giggles. “What! You’ve explained all very properly about the scales balancing thing, but c’mon. Tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“I haven’t.”
(I have.)
“Oh yeah?” Kavi raises her eyebrows.
I throw a leather skirt in her direction.
She’s saying this and she doesn’t even know all the details yet.
I didn’t exactly mention the robe incident.
That I felt firsthand evidence of a curve.
How Hughes gave me a semi-strip show. And, perhaps, the most scandalous and shocking offense of all.
We held hands at the game earlier today.
Not that I could talk about the last one.
It would reveal what Adrian felt and his past would come up.
Jesse. I’d never betray his confidence like that.
“Look—” I lower my voice and glance around, as if afraid the hockey captain might pop out from behind a mini-fridge somehow. “He’s not terrible. Without his help, Team Nutcracker—”
“Hilarious name, by the way. Adorable that you go with it—”
“There were shirts made! I can’t complain now—”
“That’s usually not enough to stop you, but back to the point.” Kavi pinches herself. “Am I dreaming, or was that the first compliment I’ve heard you give him?”
“Don’t get used to it,” I grumble, my cheeks heating up.
“Why not?” Kavi asks, her face sobering all of a sudden. “I think he likes you, Sonya.”
“No.” The rest of my body heats up as I wave her off. “Remember I’m the one woman who’s ever turned him down. He’s probably chasing after what he can’t have.”
Kavi pulls out a tank top and sniffs it, seeing if it can handle another wear. “So he’s helping you to get into your pants? Is that what you think?”
“No,” I mumble reluctantly. “It doesn’t feel calculated like that…”
“Okay. Explain to me again how he’s acting around you.”
He only holds me when I have my first panic attack, whisks me away to an activity tailored to my personality, offers me a team of experts for diagnosing yips…to start naming a few things.
I wrinkle my nose and roll my eyes. “He gets under my skin. Pretends to be my husband, calling me Mrs. Hughes even though I hate it. And baby sometimes. If not that, always, Sonya darling.”
I can tell Kavi has loads to say about that. Her eyes are practically sparkling.
Before she can open her mouth, I argue, “But who cares about him! I’m not interested. I can’t—I don’t have time for that.”
Kavi grins at me. “For what? Sex or a relationship?”
My head spins, remembering Hughes saying, “You’re such a good girl staying in my lap, baby.”
I can barely utter my denial to Kavi properly. “Neither.”
She points down to where I’m strangling the waistband of some jeans.
I drop them.
She smiles to herself as she digs through my pile of clothes and pulls out a dress. “Okay, if you don’t want sex or a relationship, why did you pack a dress like this one?”
It’s busty, low-cut, and made of both latex and leather.
So violently black, luxe, and shiny—three things that typically don’t go together, but do in this dress.
When I wear it, I become a sexy creature of the night.
Approach me and you’ll either get the best night of your life with me or unknowingly have the life force sucked out of you.
It’s the kind of dress that makes jaws drop.
I stumble back a step, flushing. “It’s—because—no reason!”
Kavi tosses me the dress. “Wear it tonight. It will literally kill him.”
I scowl. “W-What? I don’t care what kills Adr—Hughes.”
“Who said I was talking about Adrian? Remember your doppelg?nger is going to be there. The sexy Finnish player, Mikael Saros.”
“Yeah, he’s more my type,” I blurt out, pretending like I’ve given Saros a passing moment of time in my brain.
Kavi laughs, a twinkling glint in her eyes. “Okay, prove it. Dance with him tonight.”