Chapter 21 #2
A month until the Senior World Championships, if Charles is right about what the NFSC is going to want. And then two more Worlds after that until Milan.
No. No, it’s not over yet.
We have a party tonight. We’re going to celebrate and enjoy the moment.
Enjoy our win.
But first, the media.
It might only be the Junior World Championships, but the crowd of reporters waiting for us once we leave the ice is the largest I’ve ever had asking me questions at any competition, even the US Nationals, where people are usually curious about Walter Russo’s daughter and Elisa Russo’s sister, and I’m pretty sure I have our newfound fame to thank for it.
Now, though, the questions are rapid-fire, most in English, but those that aren’t are translated by someone from the NFSC and my head is spinning, but Brayden has a charming smile and a quick quip for everyone.
Then, finally, though I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier, one of them asks, “There is a lot of speculation that the two of you are a couple off the ice. What’s the status of your relationship? Are you dating? Are you just friends?”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. We’ve been pretending for a while now, but we’ve never officially confirmed anything and in the mess of the last few days, I never came up with an answer, but then Brayden leans forward and says, “I love this girl, so much. She’s my best friend, maybe my only true friend, and someone I’d trust with my life.
She’s my skating partner and there’s no one else in the world I’d rather skate with, no matter what.
Maybe people don’t understand that, hell, sometimes we barely understand it, but I wish everyone could have a partnership with someone like Adriana so they could know that being just her friend is worth more than anything. ”
And I’m crying again and manage to choke out a laugh. “Am I supposed to follow that answer? What he said, every bit of it. I’m so proud to skate with him and I’m so proud of what we did here in Paris and I can’t wait to see what’s next!”
“Okay, that’s enough,” the NFSC official says, and we’re led away from the media pen and back toward the locker room. It’s the last time we’ll be in it and I’m going to miss this bare-bones room with its sad paste-on mirror against the wall and little, completely empty water jug in the corner.
“Did you really mean that?” I ask as I reach for the zipper of my dress.
“I did,” he says, and looks me dead in the eye. “I…I haven’t been fair to you. This whole time, I was just, I was hoping…”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not, but I think…maybe it will be. If you meant what you said, I mean. We won gold and that should be enough. I’m invoking our last rule. I’m calling it. I don’t think I can pretend anymore.”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding, and his shoulders deflate because I think maybe he was hoping I’d disagree and maybe that was his last bit of hope and God, this sucks. I want to give him something, anything to make it better and I don’t have much, except, “I meant what I said too, you know. Every word.”
Brayden nods and then heaves a sigh.
Silence reigns for a minute and it’s awkward and awful and I need to fill it. “So what do we tell everyone?”
“Who cares? Let them wonder. It’s more mysterious that way.
Social media will go crazy. Sponsors aren’t going to care why we’re famous, just that we are.
” He sends me a mischievous grin, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but that’s a Brayden I recognize, at least. “Charles said they’re going to want us to go to Worlds.
I kind of like winning golds, and we set another world record tonight.
Why don’t we go for another? What do you say to youngest Senior World Champions ever? ”
“I say you’re completely cracked, but it’ll be a hell of a lot of fun to try.”
His grin widens and his eyes crinkle at the corners and yeah, okay, there he is, finally. Maybe we’re going to be okay. “Yeah, I think so too.”
“C’mon, there’s a party waiting for us back at the hotel and we should celebrate tonight because it’s back to work tomorrow.”
· · ·
As soon as we step through the doors the doorman holds open, the lobby bursts into cheers, like what I imagine the sound the most epic surprise party would make, except it’s not a surprise, it’s our just desserts.
Drinks are flowing, not only in honor of our victory, but because with the close of the ice dance competition, the competitive part of World Championships is over.
Charles and the reps from Nike are tucked away in a corner.
Apparently they’re about to make us an offer, a big one, and they never even mentioned our supposed romance.
They think we’re gonna crush it in Milan.
“You won!” Maria says, stumbling into me with Charlie in tow and I’m pretty sure someone gave them alcohol because they’re both giggling like idiots. “You’re in trouble, though.”
“I’m in trouble?” I ask, grinning at Brayden, who rolls his eyes.
Maria looks around, like she’s worried about being overheard and then she stage-whispers, “Dad knows and it’s not my fault, I told Elisa and she told him like right away because she’s Elisa.”
“Wait,” I say, holding her by her shoulders and trying to get her to focus. “What does Dad know?”
“He knows about your…emancepanda.”
“Emancipation,” I say, groaning. “Damn it. That’s not what’s happening.”
“S’what he thinks, and he’s pissed.”
I leave Maria and Charlie near the door and step into the mass of people, my height letting me see over them easily enough, and I spot Dad, sitting in a corner with Elisa and Camille.
My coach is talking, but it doesn’t look like either of them are listening.
Elisa is staring across the room at Charles and the reps from Nike, but Dad? He’s looking at me.
Shit.
“I need to go handle this,” I say to Brayden, who followed me closely.
“You want me to come with you?”
“No, I need to do this myself.”
Steeling my shoulders, I head straight for them and don’t mince words.
“We need to talk.”
Dad raises his eyes to me and nods. He stands and Elisa follows. Camille furrows her brow at me, in confusion. No, he wouldn’t have said anything to her. That would be embarrassing. They’re pissed, but not enough to air their dirty laundry. Never that.
“What’s this I hear about you emancipating yourself from this family?” Dad asks as soon as the door of a small room off the lobby is closed behind us.
“You heard wrong,” I say. “I asked Charles to look into setting up a trust for me to keep my money safe until I turn eighteen.”
“Safe from me,” Dad says, his tone clipped.
And there it is. There are two paths ahead of me. I can do what I’ve always done and smooth this over. Reassure him and Elisa that it’s not true. Or instead I could…
“Safe,” I repeat, but I continue before he can respond, using the voice I’ve developed over the years answering calls from bill collectors and angry parents.
It makes me sound way more grown-up than I feel, but that’s the point.
“I plan on contributing a portion of my earnings to Kellynch and giving myself a monthly stipend, but mostly the money should be in an account, gaining interest. I might want to go to school someday or, I don’t know, something, but that’s what I plan on doing.
I don’t want to be emancipated, but it was suggested that would be a solution, if you have objections to these ideas. ”
Dad raises an eyebrow. The implication is clear, let me do this or let the entire world know he wants my money.
That’s an easy choice for him.
He waves a hand dismissively. “Well, it sounds like you’ve thought it through. Your mother was always good with finances too. I’ll tell Charles that he should set it up as you’ve outlined.”
“Thank you,” I say, and when he leaves, I let out a shaky breath of relief.
“I hope you’re happy,” Elisa says as the door clicks shut. I’d almost forgotten she was there.
“I am, actually, for the first time in a really long time.”
“You say that now, but you don’t understand what comes next. The pressure, it’s…it’s impossible.”
“I think I’ll be okay.”
I know I will. I have Brayden and Camille and my friends and Charles…maybe even Dad now.
Elisa’s shaking her head. “You don’t understand what it’s like.
No one expected you to be great. No one ever has, especially not Dad.
You’ve been able to skate in the shadows your entire career and get away with it.
I was the one who had to live with the pressure of our family’s fucking legacy.
I was supposed to medal in Beijing and I didn’t.
I choked and now I have to live with it, but you think you’ll be okay?
Great. Just one more thing you can take away from me. ”
She’s angry. She’s lashing out. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.
I know that, deep down.
But it doesn’t make it hurt less.
It also doesn’t mean I’m going to let her get away with it.
“You know what, I’m done. I won a gold medal tonight. I’m not going to let you ruin it. I deserve to enjoy this. I wanted to enjoy it with you, but apparently that’s asking too much.”
I don’t let her respond, but as I stomp from the room and head back into the party, I hear her let out a choked sob as the door clicks shut behind me.