Chapter 3
On his way out of Starbucks, Danny gets a text from Sasha.
Sasha: How was your interview?
That’s… interesting. Danny’s been doing a lot of interviews this year—USA Gymnastics, Inside Gymnastics, NBC, ABC, local news, podcasts, you name it—and Sasha usually waits until the next phone call to ask about them, if he remembers to ask at all.
Seeing him this eager to find out how things went with Allie, Danny wonders if he was more uncomfortable about their reunion than he’d let on.
Danny: Good
Danny: Can I call you?
A few seconds later, his phone starts ringing, which more or less confirms his theory. Shit.
“Hey, Sasha, how’s it going?”
Normally, they spend a while chatting about practice, comparing injuries and swapping updates on upgrades—Sasha’s promised he’ll have the Hartman ready for the European Championships—but Danny has a feeling that won’t be the case today. Sure enough, Sasha replies, “Okay. Interview was good?”
“Yeah, it was.” Danny holds the phone closer to his ear as he turns onto LA U’s main quad, where half the student population seems to be enjoying the sunny morning.
He spots a few people he recognizes from class, waving at them as he continues talking to Sasha.
“Pretty much all Olympics. She gave me some fun questions, though.”
“Mmhm.” That doesn’t necessarily mean anything—it’s just one of Sasha’s usual listening noises—but Danny notices a slight pause before he asks, “How is she?”
Honestly, it’s kind of cute that Sasha’s jealous, even though there’s nothing to worry about with Allie—new girlfriend aside, she was the one who’d dumped him, pointing out that they were always too busy to see each other.
(Not that they were trying that hard at the end, which is really obvious now that Danny’s making it work with someone on the other side of the world.)
But it’s not as if he’s never felt a twinge of insecurity, no matter how stupid. And when there’s eleven time zones’ worth of distance involved, and literally everyone else in the other person’s life gets to spend more time with them than you… yeah, Danny can see why Sasha’s worried.
Snagging an empty bench, he sits down and sets the record straight. “She’s good. She really likes her job. And she has a girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Sasha echoes, sounding confused. “She is… she is lesbian now?”
“What? No, dude, she’s bi. Like me,” Danny says, frowning.
He hadn’t thought much about it earlier, when Allie mentioned people assuming she was a lesbian; he’d been distracted, debating whether or not to share his secret with her.
But hearing Sasha do the same thing, it bothers him a little—like one of the pins on his bib number wiggling loose during a meet, poking through his leotard and into his skin.
“Oh.” After an awkward pause, Sasha seems to realize his mistake. “Sorry.”
“Thanks.” Danny doesn’t know how to explain, even to himself, why it matters; in the end, he lets it drop and checks to make sure the coast is clear, since there’s something else they need to discuss.
“It was actually a pretty good conversation. I, um… I told her—well, off the record, obviously—but, uh, I told her I’m bi. ”
“You—what?” Sasha’s voice sharpens, rising like a storm. “You told her?”
“Yeah. She’s cool, though, she’s not gonna tell anyone—”
“She is reporter! Are you crazy? She will tell everyone! On television and—”
“Whoa, hey,” Danny interjects—Sasha sounds like he’s working himself up into a full-blown freakout. “Sash. Calm down, okay? She’s not like that.”
Sasha goes danger-quiet, the only warning Danny has before he asks, “Did you tell her about me?”
“No, of course not,” Danny says quickly; then he hesitates, realizing that’s not quite true. “Well—I told her I was seeing someone on the Russian team, but I didn’t tell her your name—”
Sasha swears so violently, Danny doesn’t need a translation to wince. “She can find me! She can look—online—”
“Sasha. Even if she did, there’s, like, what, twenty of you guys? Plus the juniors? There’s no way she’d figure it out. Besides, she’s not gonna do that. Like, I know her. I dated her. And she’s a good person, okay? Can you just, like… trust me on that?”
Crickets. Crickets and country music, drifting over from a group of sunbathers setting up shop on the quad. After a moment, Danny checks his phone; Sasha’s still there, but he’s not sure if that makes the silence better or worse.
“Is there other option?” Sasha finally asks. “You told her anyway.”
“I mean—” Okay, he probably deserved that. “Yeah. I did. But, like… I really don’t think she’s gonna try and find you—”
“I have to go to sleep,” Sasha cuts him off, as if Danny doesn’t know it’s not even ten in Moscow. “Good—”
“Sasha, wait, come on. Please. Don’t hang up.”
“Why?”
Danny bites his lip, wondering if he should quit while he’s behind.
But they’re here now, and kind of already in the middle of it; he has no idea when he’ll be able to work up the courage to ask again; and he’d really, really like to tell his parents about Sasha when they come up for graduation in a few weeks…
He might surprise you, Allie’s voice echoes in his head.
It’s not going to happen, his own voice warns in his gut.
But Allie was definitely right about one thing: he’s only pretending he’s fine.
Because the truth is, it’s getting harder and harder to keep this secret inside of him.
It’s why all his smiles are starting to feel like he’s been taking pictures for too long; it’s why his chest gets so tight sometimes, it hurts to breathe.
He’s not okay.
And finally admitting that to himself makes him reckless enough to clear his throat.
“Look, Sash… I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first, it just kind of came up.
And that’s not an excuse or anything, but I don’t know, maybe we should talk about stuff like that?
Like, what you’re okay with me saying to people?
Cause…” He grips his phone, remembering just in time to look around again and make sure no one’s within earshot.
“I really want to tell my parents that I’m bi. ”
For a moment, he hears nothing but a twanging guitar, some country singer reminiscing about a love that ended too soon.
“Oh,” Sasha finally says. Like he’s not surprised, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, either. “Because your cousin?”
“Yeah.” Danny had told Sasha about Brian coming out to the family, hoping to get a read on whether that was an option for them; instead, Sasha had gone quieter than usual, only asking if Brian was safe before changing the subject. “But, um…”
Fuck, he knows. He knows what the answer’s going to be and he knows it’s a mistake to even ask, but the words are still tumbling out of his mouth.
“They’re coming up for graduation soon, and, um. I want to tell them about us, too. If that’s okay with—”
Sasha’s voice yanks the rest of the sentence out from under him, as harsh and strong as a riptide. “No.”
“They wouldn’t tell anyone—”
“No.” Sasha’s almost shouting before he collects himself, his breathing jagged in Danny’s ear. “If you have to tell about you, okay, tell about you. But you can’t for me. Please. Promise me you will not tell them.”
It’s the please that stops Danny short. Sasha sounds terrified—like he’d be on his knees if they were having this conversation in person, begging Danny not to out him—and that’s not what Danny wants at all, no matter how desperate he is to confide in his parents.
Because it’s Sasha’s secret, too, and no one deserves to have that choice taken away.
“Okay.” He swallows as he says it, forcing down his disappointment. “I won’t. I promise.”
But as soon as they’ve hung up (when Sasha has to go to bed for real), he starts wishing he hadn’t folded like a panel mat, wishing he’d tried harder to convince Sasha that his parents were safe.
The more he thinks about it, the less certain he is about what he just agreed to—like, did Sasha mean forever?
No, he decides after a few worried seconds. Graduation’s so close; Sasha probably had a kneejerk reaction about the timing, Danny rushing something he wasn’t ready for yet. It’s too soon for him, that’s all. And Danny only has himself to blame, since he should have known Sasha would get spooked.
But the worst part is, he’s just realized that if he can’t tell his parents about Sasha, then he definitely can’t tell them he’s bi, either.
Because there’s no chance they wouldn’t figure it out.
He already mentions Sasha a lot more than he should, slipping him into conversations like “Hey, guess what, I heard Sasha got second on vault at the Russian Championships” and “I think I’m gonna ask Sasha for tips on the Makuts, I keep screwing mine up and his are so good”—each excuse thinner than the last, to the point where he’s lucky he’s still getting away with it.
So if he comes out? Yeah, his mom’s going to be on that shit.
He stays there, slumped on the bench, hundreds of students passing him by as he tries to think of another solution; but he’s no closer to an answer when his phone lights up, alerting him to a group text with Matt and their other teammate Yulien.
Matt: yo danny
Matt: me and yulien are getting tix to nattys
Matt: wheres the la u section
Yulien: I found that bar we went to on tour
Matt: fuck yes
Danny looks at the link Yulien sent, a website for a bar in Columbus, Ohio that he vaguely remembers sneaking into on the Tour of Gymnastics Champions after the London Olympics. They hadn’t even checked his fake ID.
Danny: Can’t wait
Danny: Thanks guys
He sends the seating information, along with a smiley emoji he doesn’t feel. Reminds himself that this is what he needs to focus on now: getting into gear for the NCAA Championships, the US National Championships, and the Olympic Trials.
Oh, and passing his finals, but whatever.
Maybe after the Olympics, he can talk to Sasha again.
Maybe then, once Sasha’s realized Allie isn’t digging around for a scoop on them, he’ll relax a little and let Danny tell his parents.
Bringing it up today, with Sasha already worried about the interview—not to mention stressed about his chances of making the Olympic team—was a rookie mistake.
Obviously, Sasha needs more time to think about it…
but he’ll come around eventually, right?
At least, Danny really hopes so. Because until then, in order to keep his promise to Sasha, he’s going to have to break a piece of himself over and over again.