Chapter Two #3
“And our final competitors for this season,” Michelle was saying into a microphone.
“We’ve been teasing the news that this year’s going to look a little bit different.
And that’s because we are proud to include our first-ever same-sex ice-dance pair.
Please welcome former Toronto Beavers goaltender Robbie Zeiger and his partner, two-time ice-dancing World Champion Finn Graham! ”
The introduction felt super awkward, considering the only audience was the crew and the other assembled skaters. Robbie figured they’d make it more exciting in postproduction.
Finn shepherded him toward the host, who shook their hands.
“Robbie, tell us a little about the charity you’re skating for.”
Dutifully, Robbie gave the spiel about the help line for LGBT+ youth. He’d given enough interviews to do it well, which he could tell Michelle appreciated.
“Finn, you’ve got a triple challenge this season.
First, you haven’t competed on the show in four years.
Second, you’ve got to work up a routine that accommodates having a partner who weighs probably double what you’re used to, and finally, you’ve got the additional task of working with the show’s first-ever goaltender competitor. What’s your game plan?”
Somehow Robbie managed not to roll his eyes.
“Well, first, I don’t think Robbie being a goalie is a disadvantage. It means he’s already used to flatter skates, and he has the flexibility ice dancers need.”
Hm. Robbie glanced up. Were those lights suddenly throwing more heat? Or was he just blushing because Finn was going to call him flexible on television?
“As for the rest… I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
They finished filming the interview, and then all the skaters stood in a semicircle while Michelle announced the first challenge.
“This week, you will all be performing a swing dance. Your program should be no less than three minutes long and must include at least one stationary lift and a not-touching step sequence of at least fifteen seconds. Good luck!”
“Sheesh.” Sawyer looked at Robbie somewhat wide-eyed. “Your hair.”
Robbie huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “What about my hair?”
“It’s all…” Sawyer waved his hands in the air. “Woosh and modely. It looks amazing.”
“Are you suggesting that my hair isn’t always amazing?”
“Well—”
Robbie scuffed Sawyer’s head. He took care of his hair—he had no desire to be a compelling argument for all men to have buzz cuts.
“So….” Sawyer eyed him from his homework spot at the kitchen island. Robbie would claim it as evidence of his successful parenting, but Sawyer was too damn curious to not learn and also maybe too sassy to pass up the opportunity to show up a teacher.
“So?” Robbie grabbed a fizzy water from the fridge and eyed the rest of the contents as he considered dinner. Leftover pasta or stir-fry?
“So.” Sawyer sighed with great exasperation. “How was the first day?”
“Fine.”
“That’s it? Just fine?”
Robbie paused to consider. He wasn’t going to tell Sawyer he’d asked if Finn would sit on his face in public. “Sure.” He shrugged.
Sawyer made a noise like a stepped-on cat.
“Well, what do you want to know?”
“Did you meet Finn? Did you go on camera? Did you skate?”
“Yes, yes, no.”
“Robbie!”
“We have to practice off ice first. I met other people involved in the show, including the competition, and learned about the first challenge.”
“And Finn?” Sawyer leaned forward a bit and then caught himself and slouched again.
Robbie narrowed his eyes but didn’t call him on the weird behaviour. “What about him? He was there. I told you I met him.”
“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes. It looked painful. “What do you think of him? I mean you have to work with him. Is it going to work, do you think?”
Robbie pulled the leftovers from the fridge as he considered. Even when Sawyer was a little tot and first talking, Robbie always did his best to take his questions seriously. He couldn’t seem to break the habit, even if fourteen-year-old Sawyer should learn to mind his business.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s a bit weird, and Finn mentioned needing to adjust the style for two men, but he’ll probably find that harder than me, since the only ice dancing I know is what I’ve not yet done with Dance Your Ice Off.”
He opened the container of pasta and dished it onto plates for reheating.
“So you like him?”
“Sure, he seems nice.”
“Just nice?”
Jesus, what was he angling at? Robbie was trying to get them dinner, here.
“Seriously. What—is this about Imogen? Are you worried I’m gonna hate him?
Even if I did, you don’t think I’d pull a Romeo and Juliet on you, do you?
” He eyed the book open on the counter. “I’m not going to forbid you from seeing your Capulet, no matter what I think of Finn. ”
“Okay, one, Imogen and I aren’t interested in each other, so we’re not Romeo and Juliet. And two, like you could stop us from seeing each other. And three, I’m totally Juliet and Imogen is Romeo, so we”—he waved his hand back and forth between them—“would be the Capulets.”
Robbie nodded and leaned back against the counter, waiting on the microwave. “Right, right. Of course, you’re Juliet. What was I thinking. I can definitely see you pining from a balcony.”
Sawyer stuck his tongue out.
“If Imogen is Romeo, does that mean she’s a fuckboy?”
Sawyer dropped his head to the counter. “I hate you so much right now.”
“Love you too, kid.” Sawyer made another cat noise as the microwave beeped. Robbie pulled the plate from it and placed it next to his English homework. “‘Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon.’ Or your dinner, at least.”
“I regret everything,” Sawyer moaned, even as he lifted his head, pushed his homework aside, and grabbed a fork.