Chapter 10 Break A Leg
Break A Leg
Iwoke up to a continuous series of knocks at my door, at our door. It was an early Saturday morning, and everyone woke up out of their sleep. We all wondered what on earth was going on—Remi was the kind of person who was incredibly irritable in the mornings.
“Now who the hell…” Sydney groaned, taking off her sleeping mask, her curly blonde hair in disarray.
“Maybe it’s your little boyfriend, Sydney,” Remi grumbled in disbelief.
“Nuh uh, Jax would never disrupt our beauty sleep like that!” Sydney defended then checked her cellphone. “I can see his location and he’s still at his dorm far away.”
“You have his pinned location on?” I wondered with a yawn.
“Twenty-four seven and he has mine too, we live in each other’s walls,” Sydney responded with the utmost confidence.
“It’s definitely not Cahya, he has a recital this morning,” I said. “It might be staff, maybe?”
“Screw it,” Remi huffed in frustration, wearing her froggy pajamas and overnight acne cream still on, she trudged towards the door and unlocked it, then froze. “Listen I don’t care who the— oh.”
She remained unmoving in the doorway, her cheeks immediately turning pink, her mouth opening and closing as if there were something she was trying to communicate but couldn’t get out.
“What is it, Remi, who’s at the door?” I questioned.
“Are you okay…or?” Sydney wondered, getting a little concerned and rightfully so at that.
“Is there a sane way to say that there’s an Olympic champion standing in our dormitory doorway?” Remi announced, and my jaw dropped.
“You dishonour me.” His sleuth English accent floated through the apartment, and I immediately knew exactly who it was.
“Here we go…” I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
“It’s actually two-time Olympic champion,” he corrected her with a rather pretentious edge to his tone.
“How’s that even possible you’re twenty-one?" Sydney puzzled.
“I won for both singles and pairs," he clarified.
“Wynter Kwon is in our doorway,” Remi repeated in shock, almost robotically. “Hi!”
“Hi,” he responded. “Do you fancy frogs?”
“W-what—”
“Your frog-print nightclothes, are they all the rage in fashion these days?” Wynter queried with the kind of interest so genuine one would often mistake it for sarcasm.
“A Versace ambassador asking an average college student what’s happening in fashion is an atrocity. I’ll be emailing your employers to terminate your contract,” I threatened and he let out a soft laugh.
He smirked. “They couldn’t do that, they love me.”
Damn it, he was right.
“Why are you even here?” I protested, looking at the clock on my bedside table, it was 6:04 AM.
“For you,” he answered plainly.
“For her?” Remi gasped as if she’d heard of the most elaborate scandal.
“For her?” Sydney giggled. “I’ll sit here and act surprised.”
“Why?” I wondered.
“Can I at least come in?” he asked me. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rather impolite to keep guests waiting out in the hall?”
“You’re so annoying,” I grumbled. “Just come in!”
Remi then stepped aside and Wynter made his way into the room.
He wore a black North Face puffer jacket and washed blue jeans.
His sneakers made him appear much taller than he actually was, his hair had a single gold star hair clip at its side—he was flawless and he wasn’t even trying to be. He had an iced americano in hand.
“Hi.” He smiled menacingly.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” I scoffed.
“It’s time for you to wake up, we have practice.”
“I’m sorry, we?” I snorted at his sheer ridiculousness. “What are you talking about?”
“You wanted to learn how to skate, and so that’s exactly what I’m going to do, teach you.” He glanced at his watch. “But unfortunately I don’t have all day, and you’re wasting my time with tedious conversation.”
“I— well, why does it have to be at six in the morning?”
“Because these are the hours at which I’m available and I have a schedule to stick to the instant the clock strikes nine till sundown,” he explained. “This is me, making time for your aspirations.”
“This is you making time for me, huh?” I challenged, folding my arms.
“Against my will, but yes nevertheless.”
I looked him in the eye at that and held his gaze, bathing me in warm chocolate honey and unwavering warmth despite how he’s grown so accustomed to the cold. I glanced down, realizing how I had literally just woken up and I was still in pajamas.
“Fine,” I agreed not wanting to argue with him. “I’ll wash up and meet you in the lobby.”
“Please get the hell out, Wyn, you’re robbing me of my sleep!” Sydney chucked a pillow at him. “You’re so annoying!”
“Ah. I hear that often.” He shakes his head at the realization with a cocky expression. “Make it quick, we have three hours and thirty minutes left.”
“Out!” I insisted, and he chuckled, closing the door behind him.
“Guys…” Remi cleared her throat in anticipation.
“Yes?”
“Is this a safe space?” Remi wondered.
“Uh oh.” Sydney sighed.
“Yes,” I assured her.
“He’s so freaking pretty,” Remi teased with a mischievous grin. “Honestly, I will never judge you for being so hung up on him, I’ll never wonder why again, I get it. The accent alone is enough to make me forget every remnant of feminism existing in my mind.”
“The accent always gets them, doesn’t it?” I slipped on a pair of pink leggings and a white tank top with a bow at its shoulder. “Remember the fact that he could’ve had a Geordie accent instead of a Yorkshire one if his dad had actually gone to college a little further away.”
“What’s so bad about a Geordie accent?” Remi asked.
“Have you watched a single episode of Geordie Shore?” Sydney snorted a laugh.
“No…and now I never will, thank you.” Remi shook her head.
“In my humble opinion Americans should never complain about accents!” I informed them.
“Fair.” Sydney sighed, falling back onto her pillow.
“He’s a total geek, I swear people just never see that side of him because they’re too busy deciding whether or not they want to be him or be under him,” I grabbed my bag and took one last look in the mirror.
I often found myself wishing I could see myself through his eyes instead.
I wondered if he’d notice that my skin was paler out here in the city, away from the sun.
If he’d notice I’d started trimming my eyebrows and my curls were no longer wild and free.
If he’d still recognize me without the harsh tan lines and even harsher acidity on my tongue.
I had spent so much time trying to pinpoint all the ways in which he was different without realizing that I too had changed, deeply so. Both inside and out.
“I’ll see you guys later,” I promised and then I was gone.
I made my way down the stairs and into the lobby where I saw Wynter waiting for me by the door, twiddling with the keys to his car between his long slender fingers, a single gold band he wore on his ring finger that all his sisters had too. Never took it off.
“Happy?” I huffed, the remnants of sleep still haunting me.
“Delighted,” he assured me but I just rolled my eyes and made my way outside as he opened the door for me—God, he was so polite it was aggravating. Gentlemanly in every aspect of his being.
He drove a black Aston Martin Vulcan that I didn’t even want to guess the cost of, truly.
It was a really comfortable vehicle despite how it exuded such effortless luxury.
I waited inside as he talked outside on the phone; he appeared to be having quite a heated conversation.
I could only make out the words I’ll be there in time and I won’t miss the shoot and When have I ever?
But when he came back to the car and opened the door, it was almost as if none of that had ever happened.
It was rather peculiar but then again he’d always been a rather peculiar guy so it was of no concern to me.
I hopped into my seat as he started up the engine, the windows tinted so dark you’d think it was nighttime outside.
I stirred in my seat and he glanced over at me pressing a button next to the wheel and the bottom of my seat lifted up—admittedly, I was a bit startled.
I took off my shoes and lifted my feet up onto the seat in satisfaction, snuggling them up close to me, my socks on the leather.
He remembered. I always did this in cars. It was a silent gesture but it radiated waves within me.
“So…” I said, trying my best to turn on the AC. “Where are we going first?”
“To train.” There was a sly twinkle in his eye.
“Excuse me?” I sat up only to be snapped backwards by my seatbelt.
“You heard me. You didn’t think I’d put you straight on the ice did you?” he countered, and my jaw was on the floor.
What the hell did I just sign myself up for?
“Oh!” I swallowed hard. “So where are we going first?”
“Well you need to strengthen your leg muscles so we’re going hiking,” he explained as he drove away from campus, barely making eye contact with me anymore.
“Ha! I didn’t bring any boots,” I refuted just as my gaze met the North Face box at my feet. “You did not…”
“Oh, but I did,” he affirmed, and my mouth hung open in surprise.
“Where are we going?”
“Breakneck Ridge.”
“You’ve been in New York for five minutes, how the heck did you find a hiking trail anyways?”
“Your brother,” he remarked, and I immediately knew then that Cahya would always be my mortal enemy.
“He can barely walk to Times Square!” I folded my arms.
I pulled out my phone and texted the group chat.
ME: Send forth your sincerest thoughts and prayers.
REMI: Uh oh…turn on your live location
SYDNEY: WHAT HAPPENED? Are you about to be in a true crime documentary?
ME: worse.
REMI: You’re scaring me
ME: I’m being taken on a hike
SYDNEY: Oh friend you’re so on your own.
REMI: Thoughts and prayers. Don’t get lost in the mountains xx
“You didn’t have to go out of your way to buy me new boots,” I scolded as I unboxed them—they had white bows at the back too.