Chapter 69 Sonya
SONYA
(Five months later)
After the night of my audition, the celebration at Quinn’s place lasted until the early hours of the morning. So much has changed since then, but tonight everyone is back at his house, and Quinn Connor is in his element, brandishing a notebook and a pencil.
It’s game night.
He’s smiling all over the place.
Kavi is beside me, and we’re both enjoying him announcing the next round of charades.
“This is what we’ve all been waiting for! That’s right, it’s our annoying but lovable captain, Adrian Hughes, versus our grumpy but lovable defenseman, Dmitri Lokhov!”
Beside me, a giggle escapes Kavi’s mouth.
“Why did that sound so evil?” I ask.
“Because I chose the word Dmitri has to act out for Adrian.”
“And?”
“It’s soulmate.”
I cackle because my hockey captain boyfriend has rubbed off on me, and I find myself doing that a lot more. Smiling and laughing around people I trust and am comfortable around.
Today, I’m showcasing my half-tilted lip curve openly in a room full of the Vancouver Wings.
Most people are gathered in the middle of the room, sitting on sectional couches. There are Jai, Raghr, Macklin, Waris, O’Brian, and Jung.
Emmad and Matt are also here. Because once you’re a member of the Vancouver Wings family, you’re always invited. No matter what.
“You’re diabolical,” I tell my best friend, more than a little proudly.
She grins. “I know.”
We watch as Quinn passes Dmitri Lokhov the folded-up piece of paper, telling him not to look at it yet. Lokhov’s scowl is deadly, clearly letting everyone know he’s being forced to participate.
Kavi pulls her camera out, ready to capture this moment. I’m going to ask for three copies of every photograph she takes.
I take my phone out because I can’t wait and need to record this immediately, too. My camera is pointed at the man coming to stand beside Lokhov, in front of those couches, surrounded by his team.
He’s in a light gray sweater, the kind that makes his eyes seem bluer than usual, even from this distance. Wearing nicely fitted jeans and in this outfit, no one could mistake the musculature of his body as anything other than beautiful.
I can’t help it.
A tornado of butterflies dances around inside me.
Adrian Hughes. The love of my life.
“Ready, set, go!” yells Quinn.
Lokhov opens the piece of paper. Then crumples it and tosses it on the ground. “I want another word.”
“No changes, no take backs,” Quinn reminds him.
The team agrees.
“If anyone can do this, it’s you!”
“Come on bro, I’m betting on you!”
“Just try, man! For yourself, and not at all for our entertainment because we love forcing you out of your comfort zone because it’s hilarious!”
“I believe in you,” adds Kavi, who’s taking photos from the side, but also smiling fondly at her husband and all the team bonding going on.
Dmitri looks at his wife and sighs. Then he looks at the Wings players. “I swear I’m only playing this one round. That’s it.”
“And that’s all we ask of you, Great Wall of Secretly Suppressed Emotions,” says Adrian, grinning as he riffs on Lokhov’s Great Wall of Ice nickname, the one fans love using for him. “I’m ready. Please start acting for me in three…two…one….go!”
Lokhov groans.
Then jabs a finger toward his chest. Slowly that finger moves and he points it….
At Kavi.
Because his word is soulmate.
I watch my best friend’s eyes soften and go round. Her hand, the one holding her camera, sags to her side.
Adrian looks at her, then back at Lokhov. “Hmm…I’m not understanding. Do it again.”
Dmitri growls, then repeats the gesture. Pointing to himself, then more intensely at Kavi.
Adrian gasps. “Wait, are you having a baby?!”
“No, no,” exclaims Kavi. “I’m not pregnant!”
Adrian sniffs, wiping invisible tears away. “Okay, phew. I don’t think Sonya and I are ready to be godparents yet—”
“Sonya is welcome, but who said you’d also be a godparent?” scoffs Lokhov.
“Actually, if you needed me to be ready,” Adrian declares, putting a hand firmly on his chest and tilting his chin up, “I’d read all the books out there to be the best godparent in this world to your baby.”
“Still not pregnant!” Kavi reminds the group.
“This is also not how we play charades.” Quinn scribbles in his notebook. “Try again, Lokhov. No more talking, just act it out.”
I watch as Dmitri gestures at Kavi, repeatedly trying to “act” out the word soulmate.
Adrian’ guesses get more unhinged and hilarious, according to the Wings players, at least, who are basically clutching their stomachs and almost crying with laughter.
I puncture the crowd and come by the sofa across from Adrian. “Come on, you can get this.”
He’s mid-guess but trails off when our eyes meet. Even if we’ve officially been together for a while, the impact still hits me. Him, too, I can tell.
Our eyes haven’t unlocked. His are darkening with swirls of vivid blue. It’s as if seeing me always knocks all the air out of his lungs.
Someone nudges him. His teammates wonder why he’s not playing anymore. Lokhov tells him he’s got one more chance, that’s it. At that, Adrian briefly glances at Lokhov and Kavi.
Lokhov tells him that it’s one word, eight letters.
That’s a big hint, but there’s no way he’s going to know the word.
“Come on,” urges Quinn. “Give it your best shot, Cap.”
Blue eyes return to stay on mine. The expression on his face? It softens completely. He guesses.
“Soulmate.”
My breath hitches and my heart utterly melts.
“That can’t be it, can it?” someone says.
“No, he got it,” answers Kavi. “That was my word.”
Quinn whistles. “In a shocking turn of events, our captain got it right!” He goes and congratulates both Adrian and Dmitri by clapping them on the shoulder, and then strides up to me.
“Sonya, I’m pulling the sibling card! You’re playing next.”
I groan and make a stabbing motion with my hand, teasing my brother because he knows I hate playing charades. Adrian rushes over and swings me into his arms. “You’re on my team, baby!”
“I’d never separate you two,” says Quinn. “Remember what happened last time?
“You mean when Hughes mimed that he was in jail and kept reaching out to Sonya the whole night?” says Lokhov. He scowls. “I don’t want to witness that again.”
Kavi’s head rests on Lokhov’s shoulder. “Hey, how long has it been, Sonya?”
“How long has what been?” I ask.
She makes a circle with her hands, a faux megaphone and shouts, “Since we celebrated that Sonya is the first South Asian ballerina to be a principal dancer in her lead role in the famous Bob Pepita ballet!”
Not missing a beat, Adrian hoists me onto his shoulders. I’m covering my face with my hands and laughing, not even embarrassed anymore.
They’ve been doing this at all our parties since then!
The whole room explodes with cheers. Everyone’s holding up their glass. Adrian is taking me around, so I can receive a personal congratulations from every player.
I let it go on for about five minutes before scrambling off his shoulders.
Then I look around the room.
For the longest time, I thought I walked around with this underlying sense of not belonging. I thought the only way to fix that was ballet. To “make it” and prove to the world who I was.
But what I’ve learned is that belonging somewhere a lot of times has to start with you. You have to practice feeling and expressing authentically, even when you’re not okay.
It might start off terribly, and it could very well be uncomfortable and suck, but practice helps a lot. And by being genuine about your struggles, you’re also never alone when you overcome them. A squadron of people shows up to root for you.
And when they do, it makes you also want to turn around and root for them. You feel happy when they overcome their struggles, too. Happiness feeds into more happiness, between people who aren’t strangers because you’ve been showing them your true self.
I get on a table. “How long has it been?” I ask.
“How long has what been?” everyone shouts back at me.
“Since we celebrated the Vancouver Wings made the playoffs!”
I don’t know how it’s possible but the volume in the room doubles. Hockey players are losing it. I’m taking it all in but also searching for my refuge from the noise.
I find him standing there, his hand in his pocket, watching me.
Everything fades into the background.
Before he can do it, because he’s always so quick, I shape my fingers into a heart. The corniest of gestures perfect for my corny hockey captain. Something I’d never do for anyone else.
He pretends to be overcome and faint, but just as quickly is there in front of me. Holding his arms open.
I leap into them because I’m his ballerina.
“We can go home whenever you want,” he whispers into my ear.
“Soon,” I whisper back, internally doing some swoon-like fainting of my own. Because he knows me, knows that while I enjoy being here, I’m more introverted than extroverted. I’m only a temporary people person, in doses.
Plus, we’re both looking forward to some alone time. Between my ballet and his hockey, it’s precious to us. There have also been promises over text about how we’re getting extra creative tonight.
There are more memories to make, ones that we’re going to talk about when we’re old and lying awake at night, together in bed.
I can’t wait.
“I love you so much, Sonya darling,” Adrian says, hugging me as if he never wants to let go.
My favorite time to say those words back to him is when he’s inside me, because it always makes him go feral and lose it. That’s going to happen later, but right now, I can’t resist words pulled straight from my not-as-guarded-heart. “I love you more than I can properly talk about, Adrian.”
He grins, looking so happy and like he has everything he’s ever wanted.
Not caring if we have an audience or not, I kiss him, communicating with my mouth how I feel exactly the same way.
I have everything I didn’t know I wanted, and I’m happier than I ever thought possible.