Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Today, I’m prepared for the parents to show up at breakfast.
I made sure to cover the hickey on my neck with makeup so it’s not even noticeable. I hope they’ll have completely forgotten about it. And I hope even more that they ask absolutely no questions about how the rest of our night was after we left them at the elevator.
I might be okay with the parents joining us for breakfast today, but the guys, apparently, are not.
We got here early enough to find two tables next to each other, but the idea of sitting separately from each other has them all cranky.
“I suppose we should sit at both tables to save them,” says Felix with a deep sigh.
“Probably,” agrees Sebastian. There is absolutely no excitement in his voice.
“Guys, it’s fine, we can sit at two tables for one meal,” I tell them.
“You are not making your parents sit by themselves after they came all the way here to support you.” I hate sounding like I’m telling them what to do, but really, they should just have breakfast with their parents and stop being whiny about it.
“You’re right,” Lukas sighs. “I just want us to all be able to sit together.”
“Should we let the cubes decide who sits where?” asks Elliot.
“Maybe they’re here and we can let them pick seats?” Lukas looks around as if they might show up any moment.
I roll my eyes and sit down at one of the tables. “I’m sitting here. Whoever’s turn it is to sit with me is also sitting here. Easy peasy.”
Lukas sets his tray on the other table. “It’s Sebastian and Elliot’s turn, so Felix and I are over here.”
“I miss our dining room table,” Felix grumbles, but he sets his tray next to Lukas’s. “It would be tight, but it would fit all of us.”
“We could look into a bigger table, or one that expands, so it wouldn’t even be tight,” suggests Sebastian.
“I like that idea. Let’s put it on the to do list,” Elliot agrees, setting his tray down next to mine at the other table.
“I like your table.” After last weekend’s tabletop activities, I’ve got more plans for that table. I’m attached to it. “I’m not sure you really need a new one.”
Although, if they invite all of their parents over, there really wouldn’t be enough room for everyone to sit comfortably, so maybe they would benefit from having an expanding one even if it does mean saying goodbye to the sex table.
“Why are you all sitting separately?” We all look up to see who’s speaking, and see Calvin approach, eating yogurt as he’s walking around.
“Our parents are here, and we needed enough seats for everyone,” explains Elliot.
“Do you want to join us? We can steal another chair from somewhere,” I offer. The guys might be annoyed with me for it, but he offered us a place yesterday so it’s only fair to offer him one today.
“Maybe for a minute.” But instead of sitting down, Calvin surveils the room, spinning in a slow circle as he spoons yogurt into his mouth.
“She’s not here,” says Sebastian, blowing on his coffee before sipping it gingerly.
“At least, we haven’t seen her yet,” adds Elliot, separating the contents of his fruit bowl out on a plate by type.
“I wasn’t looking for anyone,” denies Calvin. “Although, I was looking for you yesterday, but when I went up to your room it had the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. And you really sounded like you didn’t want to be disturbed.”
He grins and quirks and eyebrow at Elliot and Sebastian, and even though he’s clearly just ribbing us and there’s nothing creepy or malicious about it, my face heats instantly.
I was afraid last night that our neighbors in the rooms on either side of us might hear us fighting, but I’d never once considered that they might have overheard us making up. And the fact that one of their friends heard? I just want to bury myself right under this table.
Lukas stands suddenly, his thighs knocking against the table and nearly toppling his orange juice. “Mom! Dad! Good morning!”
He hurries to hug his mother, glancing over his shoulder at me. Is he concerned they heard and worried I’ll be upset? That’s sweet of him. Maybe some of what I said last night clicked after all.
“Good morning, everyone. Calvin, it’s nice to see you,” says Sebastian’s mom, setting her tray right next to mine on the table.
“Uh, I gotta go. I’ll see you back in the waiting area later.
” Calvin hurries off, weaving through the tables.
He has a banana sticking up out of one of his back pockets and a Monster energy drink sticking out of the other.
I look around the room for the telltale flash of pink hair that is almost certainly the reason for his sudden departure, and sure enough, there’s Patti over by the waffle makers.
Summer leans down to give me a hug from the side. “Good morning, Rebecca.”
The hug is awkward, with me hugging her arm as it crosses right below my neck, but it’s a sweet gesture on her part. Maybe they really have forgotten about the hickey and are starting to like me after all.
If that’s the case, though, Elliot almost certainly undoes any progress I’ve made by offering an explanation for Calvin’s Do Not Disturb comment that I was really hoping had gone unnoticed by the parents.
“Rebecca had the good idea to put out our Do Not Disturb sign out yesterday to make sure housekeeping didn’t come again,” he explains. “I had to re-sanitize the hotel room yesterday after they’d come through.”
“That is a very good idea, Rebecca,” says Mary. “I’m sure Elliot appreciates having one less thing to worry about, with the competition happening.”
“Today’s a big day, are you ready for it?” asks Elliot’s dad.
The guys launch into a discussion of what times they’ll need on the different events, mentioning all the variables for if other competitors make certain concessions with DNFs or flipped equators.
Even for them the calculations and statistics have to be a challenge, with so many moving variables.
It all goes right over my head. Math has never been my strongest subject.
The beeping of an alarm suddenly emanates from all the guys’ pockets.
“We need to get to the waiting area,” says Sebastian, adding my dishes to his tray before sliding my tray beneath his to carry to the dish drop-off.
As soon as we step into the hallway leading to the event space, we can feel the pre-competition tension ratchet up.
The parents all hug the guys goodbye and wish them luck before they break off for the competitor’s waiting area.
I hesitate only briefly before also hugging them.
Their parents certainly already know something is going on between me and their sons so there’s no point in trying to play the “we’re just friends, who don’t touch each other at all ever” card anymore, and this is a big moment for my guys.
I want to make sure they know I’m here for them and support them, no matter what the outcome of this competition.
The audience room is a lot fuller today than it was yesterday, and we have to sit farther back than we did before to find a block of empty seats large enough for our group.
“Did all these people come just for these final rounds of these events?” I ask.
Without even looking around, Jen says, “No, these are just the competitors who are no longer in the running.”
Wow. I didn’t realize there were this many competitors here, but I suppose they’ve all been sitting back in the competitors waiting area and filtering in and out for their events.
Now that I look around though, there are a lot of them mindlessly solving different types of cubes as they chat with neighbors and wait for the events to begin.
Our group is tense as the first event is announced. When Elliot takes the stage, I have to fight the urge to stand up so I can see better and make sure he knows I’m here for him.
The first scramble goes well, and I can tell Elliot is pleased with it by the way he runs his hands through his hair.
The next two are also solid. Not splashy or record-breaking, but good enough times that it looks like he’s in the top.
Like he’d discussed at length at dinner last night, it all depends on the scramble times his competitors put up.
Even though I have my book with me, I don’t open it once to read even a single page. I’m on the edge of my seat the entire time. A lot rides on these scrambles, and it would be so disappointing for the guys to not be able to go on to Worlds when they’ve worked so hard for this goal.
By the end of the competition, my back aches from leaning forward for so long.
I don’t know how the guys are dealing with all of this stress.
I can barely handle it sitting in the audience.
But when it’s time for the awards, I’m one of the first to my feet to cheer for them.
There’s so much excitement in the air, and the guys deserve every ounce of this celebration.
The guys do great in their individual events, each of them winning first place, but when they announce the winner of the relay, they come in second.
I can see how much this stings, especially when Stephen gives them a smug smile as he steps forward to accept the first place medal for his relay team.
The guys handle it so much more calmly than I would. Stephen is such a little ass. Has he never heard of good sportsmanship? The other team barely won. The timers say only by a nanosecond, but I guess in this sport it really comes down to that tiny difference in time.
I can tell they’re disappointed in the outcome of this competition. Even taking first in their individual events isn’t enough to soothe the sting of losing in the team relay, which is the event they all care the most about.
Fuck, how much of this is my fault? Will they be mad at me for distracting them between events when they should have been getting their heads in the game? The thought hadn’t even occurred to me before now, and it really should have.