Chapter 33 Ivy
IVY
There are two full days left until I leave for the preseason Ice Cross training camp in Japan.
It sounds like enough time, but it’s not.
Not when I’m trying to pack, finalize my personal training and nutrition plans, and ensure my gear is up to the challenge.
All while bracing myself for being on the other side of the world from the one person who makes everything in my life feel better.
One day I’m tangled up with him in his bed.
Next I’m sorting through protein snacks and compression sleeves as if I haven’t left part of myself in that hospital room.
I’ll see Teddy a few more times before I go, so it’s not a goodbye.
But the countdown has begun. Every conversation feels heavier, every touch lingers a little longer.
Like watching a snow globe settle, knowing someone is about to shake it again.
I wish we had more days to see where things might lead, but the timeline isn’t mine to change.
Our conversation yesterday keeps looping in my mind.
The way he said, “I don’t fully understand what this is, only that I don’t want it to end.
” The way his hand closed around mine, knowing how easily he could let go, but deciding not to.
He’s not the type to say or do something he doesn’t mean, and that’s one of the things I love about him.
But believing him doesn’t stop the fear of something happening to our bubble while I’m away.
This awful feeling is slowly rooting itself in me, sinking deeper to my cells every day.
I’m staring down weeks of brutal timezone math, jet lag, and a schedule packed tighter than my checked baggage will be.
There won’t be time for much besides racing, training, traveling and sleeping. All that leaves little room for us.
The rational part of me—the one who loves color-coded lists—keeps repeating the separation is temporary and we’ll pick up where we left off. If it’s real, it’ll survive the distance. But the irrational part, that bitch, keeps whispering, but what if it doesn’t?
I’ve done the long-distance relationship once and it failed within the first week.
The guy I was seeing in nursing school went away on a backpacking trip in southeast Asia.
We decided to keep in touch and talk daily while he was away.
Everything was going well until one night I checked his social media and saw him tagged in a photo kissing a random woman.
I can’t imagine Teddy doing the same, but fears don’t exactly listen to logic.
Shaking the thought off, I refocus on my long to-do list. I have plenty to do before I leave for Japan. I don’t have time to indulge in worst-case scenarios, even if I did just that a moment ago.
My gear is laid out across my living room floor in neat, organized rows. Blades are sharpened to perfection, pads cleaned and aired while spare parts are packed in labeled pouches. My lucky pink mouthguard is tucked into its glittery case. Everything has a place.
This should be the satisfying part. A ritual I know well. Instead of feeling calm, my nerves are buzzing with unease.
“Is this what your brain looks like all the time?” Kayla, Max’s girlfriend, asks from the doorway to the kitchen, sipping spiked hot chocolate. I have mine next to me on the coffee table. “Because it’s terrifyingly efficient.”
She’s been in New York for twenty-four hours and made herself at home after Max had to duck out for a last-minute project yesterday.
Which I don’t mind, because I needed this; time with a friend to help distract me while I pretend my heart isn’t pulling me in two directions: half already in Japan, half in Teddy’s bed.
She’s in my old college hoodie and a pair of biker shorts. Her wild blonde curls are pulled back with a scrunchie, her fuzzy socks mismatched, and her laugh makes my small apartment feel more alive than it has in weeks.
I’m thrilled Max finally pulled his head out of his ass and asked Kayla out. We saw the chemistry between them last season, but my brother can be a bit slow in the romance department. Still, better late than never. I adore her, too, even if she’s one of my main competitors in the Circuit.
“You’re actually that girl,” she states, flipping through my handwritten checklist with a dramatic gasp. “Lists with bullet points and subheadings? Ivy, sweetie. Are you kidding me?”
“Organization is sexy. You’ll thank me when your charger isn’t tangled with dirty socks.”
She lifts the mug in toast. “To sexy spreadsheets.”
“To not forgetting my knee brace in Switzerland this season.”
We clink our hot chocolates with a splash of Bailey’s—my official “I’m packing for the Circuit” drink. Kayla sets the list aside and collapses onto my couch as I rotate through my gear: pads, gloves, extra visor, resistance bands, backup laces, the works.
“You’ve been weirdly quiet all evening. Are you freaking out about the upcoming season or is it something else?”
Of course she noticed. Kayla might be chaos wrapped in a racer’s body, but she reads people better than anyone I know.
Sitting back on my heels, I let out a long breath. “It’s not the racing.”
She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Damn, I need to get mine done before leaving. “Boy trouble?”
“Not exactly.”
“Trouble-adjacent, then?”
“Maybe.” She waits, not pressing the matter.
Just sips her drink and studies me in silence, making me groan.
“It’s someone I met at work,” I admit nervously.
“Someone I wasn’t supposed to fall for. But it happened, and now it feels more real than anything else ever has.
Leaving him behind feels wrong, but unless I invent a way to cross the ocean in seconds, I can’t change it. ”
Kayla whistles under her breath. “Wow. Should I grab the emergency marshmallows?”
“I’m being dramatic, aren’t I?”
“Only a little. However, if it feels real, then it most likely is valid. I would ask what his name is, but your brother told me about Teddy.”
Heat creeps up my neck. Of course Max couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I chew on my lip ring, torn between mortification and relief that I don’t have to say his name out loud. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to admit your feelings. I’m surprised it took this long. But him being your patient is Grey’s Anatomy level hot.”
Her reference makes me chuckle. “It’s far more complicated in real life. But I’m no longer on his care team. I stepped away once I realized I had feelings.”
Saying it out loud still stings. It was the right decision, but sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t feel good. Kayla’s expression softens, gossip giving way to understanding. “Is he the reason you’ve been a bit quieter all day?”
“It’s all new, so I'm having a hard time processing my feelings.”
“Does he know how you feel?”
I twist a pack of skate laces in my hands, giddiness bubbling up. “I think so. We’ve talked and agreed that it’s not just a fling.”
“So, what’s worrying you? Are you afraid you’ll leave and he’ll forget you? Or that you’ll be the one to forget him?”
“Neither,” I admit. My chest tightens thinking about it. “It’s that I finally found something really good, and I’m walking away from him. Even if it’s temporary, it feels as if the universe is testing me.”
Kayla hums thoughtfully and sips her drink. “Ivy, you’re not walking away. You’re walking toward your goals and another Ice Cross season. You’ve earned your place in the Circuit. Following your dreams doesn’t mean you’re abandoning him.”
I’m grateful for the steadiness she offers. “How are you so wise?”
“Michigan air. It builds character.” We laugh, some of my worry about the few next months lifting. She reaches for the checklist. “Let’s finish this prep and order food. You need at least one night of spicy noodles and emotional avoidance.”
“Deal. But I swear, no extra spicy chili dumplings. I haven’t recovered from last time.”
“Wimp,” she teases. “Don’t forget to add another pair of wool socks to your list. Don’t you remember how the cold seeps into your bones in Nagano?”
I scribble it down, mentally thanking whatever stars aligned to bring Kayla into my life. She’s a friend I never knew I was missing. Someone who understands what the Circuit life takes and shows up with her whole damn heart.
While I make a new updated checklist, my thoughts drift to Teddy. I already miss him and the sense of safety I’ve only just started to believe in. On the other hand, I’ve worked too hard for too long, to let anything derail this season and he wouldn’t want me to stay.
So why does leaving feel nearly impossible?
Later in the evening, Thai food containers are half-empty on the coffee table and my gear’s been repacked twice over.
We’ve officially reached the movie night stage of our girls’ night.
Kayla scrolls through the selection, searching for a hidden gem but we’ll eventually agree on rewatching one of her favorites.
“The chances are you’ll complain anyway. You never want to watch the same movies I do,” she mutters.
“I’m too tired to complain.”
Kayla side-eyes me. “You say that now, but the second I put on a movie with subtitles—”
“Anything but foreign films.”
“Fair,” she draws out the word, then gasps dramatically. “Snakes on a Plane?”
“I swear we watched it at least ten times last season.”
“It has exotic snakes, bad guys, and Samuel L. Jackson with one of the best lines in cinematic history. What more do you need?”
I shake my head in disbelief, trying not to laugh at the irony. “You seem to forget how you’re afraid of snakes and flying, but still religiously watch a movie about you guessed it—snakes and flying!”
“Totally a different thing,” she waves a hand dismissively and clicks play. We’re curled up on opposite ends of the couch, legs tangled in the middle. My mug has been refilled with hot chocolate and two more shots of Baileys. It’ll keep me warm and cozy.
Twenty minutes in, I’m reciting half the dialogue under my breath. Kayla throws Reese's Pieces at me.
“Stop it. You’re ruining the experience.”
“You mean this masterpiece of American cinema?”
“You’re lucky I tolerate you.”
Smiling, I sink deeper into the couch cushions, the lights from the screen flickering across the room.
We’ve done this more times than I can count during race weeks.
All while sleep-deprived, bruised, and sore in places we’d forgotten existed.
It always resets my brain. The movie itself doesn’t matter.
It’s the normalcy and familiarity that do.
“You ever think about how different this season feels?” Kayla asks, her eyes glued to the screen. “Not just the races. The people, too.”
I glance at her with genuine affection. “Like you and my brother finally being together?”
“Exactly! There’ll be two official couples in the Circuit—us and the married Finns.”
“They’re such a powerhouse.”
“I know, right? This season is gonna slap. Did you see who signed up from Canada?”
“Thierry freaking Perrin.” I pretend to swoon with a palm over my chest. “I thought he retired!”
“He did. He must be bored.”
“What can you expect from a third time champ? He’s such a diva, too.”
We laugh, and I feel the familiar pre-season jitters mixed with anticipation.
Once the season starts, we stop noticing the bruises and start measuring our worth in seconds and recovery time.
It’s the way the sport gets in your blood, becoming a part of who you are.
Someone once called the Ice Cross World Circuit an adrenaline circus on ice and I couldn’t agree more.
“I’ve missed it…even the ice burns.”
“We’re sick in the head, you know that?”
“No question about it.” I let out a soft laugh. The movie hums in the background, loud and strangely comforting. “I’m glad we’re both racing this year, even if we’re supposed to be competitors.”
I first met Kayla when we went to see Max competing during his first season and had no idea how close we would be two years later.
Somewhere between airport layovers, late-night strategy talks, and celebrating wins with cheap pizza, she stopped being my competition and became one of my dearest friends. And hopefully one day, family.
She nudges me with her foot. “You’re stuck with me.”
“Good. I like it that way.”