Chapter 19 #2
Charles nods and smiles. “Stalled a bit. Brayden and Adriana, could be a little bit more active on social media, that’ll help the cause for sure. They were impressed with your performance the other night, certainly, but they’ll want that gold medal to get things going again.”
It’s nothing we haven’t heard him say before, but suddenly the full implications of me not being able to get through a full hit routine with Brayden seems to mean a lot more. I need to talk to him. Tonight, after the pairs’ competition. We’ll talk and we’’ll figure this out and get back on track.
· · ·
“Médaillés de bronze, des états-Unis d’Amérique, Maria Russo et Charles Monroe!”
Our section erupts in excitement. I hadn’t given a ton of thought to my little sister and her partner’s chances at these Worlds, but they totally rocked their free skate and edged out a couple from Canada for the bronze medal.
And that’s a gold and a bronze for Team USA so far with me and Brayden left to compete tomorrow night.
My stomach twists at the medal missing from that haul. A silver.
Would a silver medal be that bad?
No. A silver isn’t bad, but when you step back and look at the whole picture, the lead we have on the field, the expectations from our coaches and from our potential sponsors and from ourselves, a silver wouldn’t be what we came here to do.
It would mean we didn’t hit our free dance the way we’re capable of, or at least the way we used to be capable of before everything went to shit.
It’s my fault. I’m the one up in my head. I really do need to talk to Brayden.
By the time we get back to the hotel, the café attached to the lobby has fully converted into a bar, and it seems the entire junior figure skating world has converged on that small space.
Our group has managed to carve out a corner of seats. Ben’s regaling them with what looks like a full reenactment of when he hurt his knee two years ago, a story we’ve all heard dozens of times, but it’s Ben, so it’s fine.
There’s someone missing, though, and my eyes dart around the room looking for him and finally I find him, across the room sitting with his sister and brother-in-law and chatting with someone I vaguely recognize as a Canadian coach.
He must feel my gaze, because it’s not long before he looks up and makes eye contact and my breath catches in my chest.
Why does he have to be Riley’s partner? And it’d be great if he could stop looking at me like that. Or, you know, look at me that way forever. Either is fine.
I manage to tear myself away and search for Brayden. He’s standing with Charles in the far corner, near where the lobby opens up into the café-turned-bar, and I head in that direction. I don’t even pretend to be subtle.
“Sorry to interrupt, guys, but Brayden, can I steal you for a few minutes?”
He raises his eyebrows and shrugs. “Sure,” he says.
Charles smirks a little bit at us, like I’m pulling him away for an entirely different reason.
There’s almost nowhere quiet inside, so I walk through the bustling space, weaving us through the groups of people laughing and drinking and generally totally oblivious and having a great time.
When we make it outside the air is crisp, colder than it’s been the entire time we’ve been here. I shiver against it, but turn to Brayden with purpose.
“We need to talk.”
“We do,” he agrees.
“I’m sorry for how I’ve been in training. It won’t happen again.”
He nods and then heaves a heavy breath. “Good.”
“Good,” I agree, and maybe it’s as easy as that. We just agree and move on. “We should go back into the party before anyone misses us.” I turn away, but his voice stops me.
“You know, if you’d just told me the truth, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
I spin back to face him, but I can’t deny it. He’s right. I have been lying to him. I broke our rules and didn’t come clean and yeah, it’s time to face the music.
“How long have you been in love with him?”
And that’s not what I expected him to say.
“What…I’m not…” but I can’t bring myself to finish that sentence. “How…”
“I know this whole fame thing is new, Adriana, but skating across a public rink in the arms of another guy in the middle of a major skating championship? Someone was going to see you.”
“It’s not—”
“It’s not online,” he says, cutting me off, “one of the guys on Team Canada saw you and sent me a pic. He’s too nice to post it. Even made me watch him delete it from his phone.”
“Thank God.”
“So were you ever going to tell me?”
“I was—I just…” I stop and take a deep breath. “I was going to tell you about it. I just sort of chickened out. It…it doesn’t matter.”
“So you’re not with him?”
“No.”
“But you want to be with him?”
“I…like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, Adriana, it does matter. Do you really not get it, after all this time?”
“Get what?”
“How I feel about you?”
Oh.
Oh God.
“How…” I swallow down the panic. I thought, I hoped, when he asked me to dinner on the plane it was just a stupid mistake, a one-off something we could ignore, but, apparently not? And God, I’m such an idiot for pretending otherwise. “How long have you—”
“Long enough.”
“Brayden, that’s—”
“Ridiculous? Yeah, I know.”
“You’re always talking about your hookups and how you have plans and the parties you go to.”
“That I always invite you to. Always. What did you think that meant?”
“I—I don’t—I didn’t—”
“It’s fine, Adriana. Really.”
“It’s not,” I argue. “Brayden, I’m so—”
“Don’t,” he bites out. “Don’t apologize, it’s fine. C’mon, we have an interview that Charles set up for us right after this to thank everyone at home for watching.”
Yeah, it’s definitely not fine.