Chapter 34

Giselle

Blustery cold out. I wasn’t sure where it had come from all of a sudden, but I pulled my coat tighter as I pushed out of the door of my complex and headed for the parking lot. The wind nipped at my ears, and it threatened to blow my carefully styled hair out of place, so I ducked my head down low and walked quickly, only to be stopped halfway by the last voice I wanted to hear right now.

“Christ, there you are. I’d thought you were dead or something.”

Ugh—Cass’s voice. It probably said something if my first thought hearing my friend’s voice was ugh, didn’t it? I stopped by the brick wall installation at the edge of the lot, sheltering from the wind as I looked towards where Cass came up around the corner and straight for me, her hands in her coat pockets, hood pulled up. She’d been texting while I was getting ready, trying to ask me about something or other, but I couldn’t bring myself to look—couldn’t really bring myself to think about anything other than Primrose right now, if I was being totally honest.

Which was a problem, because I kind of needed to focus on this competition. Even if I already knew I was going to crash and burn and humiliate myself out there on the ice.

“Hi,” I said, drawing myself up defensively. “Sorry, I’m kind of in a rush to get to my competition—”

“Yeah, which isn’t going to start in, like, an hour, right?”

I looked away with a frustrated sigh. “It’d be nice to be there early. I don’t need more stress.”

“What’s the stress, anyway?” She stopped in front of me, putting her hands out. “It’s not like the skating decides your future. Don’t your parents get tired of you focusing on that all the time anyway?”

It felt like it had been a lifetime since I’d last seen her… I’d started a whole new life believing in all new things, and had that life end, since the last time we’d talked face to face. I massaged my temple, still not quite able to look at her. “Be that as it may, it’s still something I care about. Can we pick this up another time?”

“God, that girl really screwed you up.” She hunched her shoulders. “You used to be there for me. I’ve been having a rough time of things lately and you just completely ditched me. Like—it’s okay you want to go focus on your own things. It’s your life, I guess. I just feel a little left out.”

Was it really so much to ask for a friendship that didn’t feel so adversarial? That didn’t feel like I was constantly primed for an attack? I swallowed. “It’s not Primrose’s fault.”

“It’s completely her fault. She swooped in while you were emotional over a breakup, and she decided to use it to get something from you. That’s why you were busy with her twenty-four seven, right? Why you told me to fuck off—she was the one who helped encourage you to do that, right?”

“It’s—”

“That’s classic abuser mentality.” She folded her arms. “Cut off your friends, make it just you and her.”

“It wasn’t her,” I snapped, my face burning hot. “I was tired of feeling like I was constantly defending myself—like I was in trouble and trying to make up for it or something.”

“So it’s me?” She put her arms out, gesturing wildly, a look on her face like I’d just slapped her. “Just because I want to do things together like always, now I’m bullying you? You can tell me if you don’t want to spend time with me. I can handle the truth. I’d prefer the truth to you hiding from me, just say it to my face.”

“I’m not saying it’s you trying to make me feel bad…” I pinched my brow. Was I any better as a friend, anyway? Was this actually just how things were? Maybe this was how I would have ended up with Primrose anyway if we’d stayed together—that maybe I was the problem and couldn’t stay happy with people.

“Okay, because I feel a little targeted. You’re just ignoring all my messages after having blown me off for a whole week already.”

“I told you I wanted an apology,” I snapped before I could think about it. Cass went wide-eyed, slack-jawed.

“An apology?” she said, incredulous. “An apology for what? I was right.”

“Even if you had been right, it’s no way to talk about Primrose, and it’s no way to talk to me.”

She gestured to herself, to me, speechless for a second, like she couldn’t believe I would say something so hopelessly stupid. I felt like I’d throw up, and my heart beat too fast by far. I turned back towards the lot.

“I need to go for the competition now.”

“So what the fuck is wrong with me, then?” she said. “Now I’m the bad guy, because I warned you about the girl who screwed you over? Am I that fucking bad that you can’t even talk to me directly?”

“Cass. Please. I can’t afford to be late.”

“You know—fine, then,” she snapped, her voice getting higher-pitched as she took a step back. “If you hate me that fucking bad, you could have just told me. I would have preferred you just tell me instead of gaslighting me about what I’m doing wrong.”

“I don’t hate you, Cass.”

“Forget it. It’s okay. You have your life, I have mine.” She turned away, shaking her head derisively. “You’re not required to like me. Lots of people can’t handle me, I’ve kind of gotten used to it.”

“Cassandra. I’m just not in a good space right now.”

“I don’t want to annoy you anymore. Good luck with your competition, I guess.”

I thought I’d actually throw up as she stormed away, her shoulders hunched. I clasped a hand over my mouth, turning away, looking up at the sky and forcing myself to focus just on the tree branch moving in the wind overhead, pushing down the sick feelings, the lurching tightness in my throat.

I swear I wasn’t doing anything. I tried so damn hard to do okay—to balance everything—and in the end all I did was fuck up everything equally. My studies, my career trajectory, my skating, my friendships, my relationships—everything, one at a time, going down like dominoes.

And it didn’t help that there was part of me that felt so sickly relieved at Cass leaving. I didn’t want to be a shitty friend, but I just… just wished she’d understand I was trying my best. Just wished she’d try to understand where I was coming from.

Or maybe I was just an awful person who couldn’t keep up a friendship, and the only way I could have a relationship was if a woman saw something to get out of it.

I breathed long and slow until the sick feelings settled down, and I forced myself to walk towards the car, counting out footsteps one after the other until I managed to get into the driver’s seat. I clutched the wheel, willing myself not to cry right now—I had a lot of makeup on—but I might as well have been willing the wind not to blow.

Was there anything in my life I hadn’t fucked up? I knew the problem was me—knew it well and truly by now—but I didn’t know what to do with that. Was there a cure for it? Some kind of solution that could turn me into a normal, functioning human being?

If there was, my father would have gotten it for me by now. Which meant I was probably out of luck.

“Dammit,” I whispered, starting the car. Maybe I could have just driven off into the sunset and disappeared somewhere and never skated again—I wasn’t sure what was the point of even going to the competition in this state—but I didn’t want to fuck up one more thing in my life now. So I put on the directions, and I drove, eyes straight ahead, driving in silence, wishing it was Primrose’s music with her singing along in the passenger seat. Where we had all our friends together and we were all set on the trajectories we wanted, where I felt like I could do anything, and where Primrose was everything I’d ever wanted.

Breakups never got better.

I moved in a trance through everything—arriving at the stadium, smiling wanly at the staff and the other skaters, going through the program with everyone and sorting out the logistics of the event. Chatted with a couple of the other skaters, people I’d run into before in all the other events that didn’t mean anything now, just like this wouldn’t mean anything tomorrow. And once the crowds were in and the first skater was on the ice, I sat in the back away from where all the others were chattering nervously or pacing amongst themselves, and I listened to the music muffled from the rink, a distant sound interspersed by the occasional applause.

I didn’t know why I was even here. I was just going to hurt myself. Embarrass myself in front of a huge crowd that wasn’t even going to have anyone I knew in it. Waste everyone’s time by watching me fall, over and over.

When the first skater came back in off the ice looking like she was on cloud nine, running on the exhilaration of a great performance and hurrying straight through towards the visitor’s area where I could hear people cheering for her already, I felt my stomach lurch like I’d throw up. I wasn’t even up next, but just the awareness that the line was moving down towards me and frankly, I wasn’t even sure what my program was—didn’t remember the first move in the routine. As the next skater headed up and out through the doors, I swallowed back the sick feeling a few times before I gave up and headed for the bathroom, walking quickly with my head spinning until I pushed inside and clutched the sink, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” I whispered. My reflection mouthed it back at me, mocking me.

After a long time there clutching the sink, the sickness subsided, and I turned and pushed back through the doors, out into an empty hallway where my footsteps echoed, filled faintly with the distant music from the rink. I walked down the tile floor towards the back room like I was walking to my death row sentencing, and I was reaching for the heavy door when I heard footsteps coming my way from behind. I glanced back, just an automatic reflex, and I did a double take at the very last person I would have expected here right now.

My father.

He was dressed nicely, wearing a peacoat with a dress shirt underneath, and he gave me an odd smile. “Giselle?” he said, stopping mid-stride. “What, getting nerves and pacing the halls?”

“You’re here.” It was the most boneheaded thing I could have come up with to say, but I didn’t really pick it—it just slipped out.

He laughed. “She’s a clever one. Spared no effort in getting me to show up. Actually tracked down the person I was supposed to be meeting with right now and convinced him not to meet with me, explaining my daughter had a big event at this time, and got him to postpone it. And then asked your mother before she asked me, just because she knew she’d say yes and bring me with her. Shrewd negotiator.”

I felt dizzy, like the room was tipping off-axis. “Who…?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Who do you think? Your girlfriend.”

“The…” My heart beat faster, a nervous feeling tumbling in my stomach. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“You don’t need to be coy about it. Your mother and I both like her.”

“Do… do you mean Primrose?”

He put a hand in his pocket. “What, do you have other girlfriends on the back burner?”

“No—just—” I shook my head, lurching like the floor was moving under me. “She got you to come here?”

“That’s what I’m saying. Are you all right? You look like you’re getting sick.”

Footsteps rang down the hall from behind him, and he glanced back to where—I felt like I got the wind knocked out of me at the sight of Primrose, wearing a sleek forest-green dress with low heels and her hair done up, coming around the corner. “David, I meant to ask—” she started, but she stopped at the sight of me, eyes wide, lips parted. “I… meant to… Giselle.”

Dad gave a sardonic smile my way before he tilted his head towards Primrose. “You can ask in a minute. I was just here to go to the bathroom, and I’d rather not stand around in a hall.”

I wasn’t even hearing him. I’d kind of forgotten he was there. He stepped aside, heading back towards the doors for the stands, leaving me there in the hallway alone with Primrose. She dropped her arms by her sides, looking up at me through her lashes, a shy look, nervous, and time stopped, a whole world just for the two of us.

∞∞∞

Primrose

To think—I’d done so well. Had organized everything secretly, quietly, making sure that people would show up, and I’d be able to disappear into the crowd while she skated. I knew she wouldn’t want to see me right now, so I had to disappear, but I thought I’d be able to hide out in the crowds and watch from afar. Admire her secretly, and then disappear, a shadow into the night, unseen, unheard.

And then I’d just run headlong into her in a hallway.

The poor woman looked so… sad. So small and broken, and I just wanted to reach out and hold her, put everything together, tell her anything she needed to hear. Hard to do when I was the problem, though.

“I… I’m so sorry,” I said, taking a nervous step back, but I fumbled in my heels with my knee still hurt and shaky, and I almost lost my balance before Giselle stepped forward and caught my arm, holding onto me and steadying me.

“Watch out—”

I felt my arm yank as she caught me, pulling me forward, and I staggered one step too close to her, but—but neither of us moved back. I felt so… so intoxicated just being close to her, and at the same time so broken. She gave me a worried smile.

“Please don’t crack your skull.”

“Oh, my god. I’m really not trying to fall over every time I see you.” My heart pounded so hard I thought my chest would burst, especially with the feeling of her hand on my arm, holding me—gentle but firm. I wondered if it was the last time I’d feel her touch. I looked away—couldn’t dare to look her in the eye. “I can get out of your way… I don’t want to distract you, okay?”

“You got my father to come here,” she said, her voice small. I swallowed the nervous feeling. She… didn’t sound angry. I didn’t want to read into it, didn’t want to start hoping for things that couldn’t be.

“Well… yeah. I wanted you to have that.” I sighed, looking down. “I want you to know you have people who like you, who… who care. People who will show up for you and cheer for you. I, uh…” I sighed. “I’m sure you won’t believe me, but I did grow to be… rather… fond of you.”

“How did you get Firth to drop the appointment with my dad?”

I laughed, despite everything, scratching my head. “Oh, god, I guess David told you… look, I just implied I was a secretary, I didn’t say outright. And I did a little sniffing around and found out he has a daughter who plays lacrosse, so I just appealed to his sensibilities. Or maybe appealed to his guilt for not showing up to her games.”

“And my mother?”

I couldn’t help a big smile. “She’s pretty nice. I just contacted Carl—uh, he’s here too—and asked him if he could put me through to your mother so I could coordinate getting to the event with her.”

“Carl Webb?” She laughed breathlessly. “Who else did you get to come?”

“Er—well, Sooyeon wanted to see you too. And wherever Sooyeon and I go, Ava goes. Matthew came along… he’s always had a soft spot for you. Tan tagged along, too, I guess expecting it to be a party.”

She gave me a smile that was so… so warm it melted my heart. I found myself meeting her gaze and losing my breath over it, just… just taking her in. “Primrose…”

I swallowed. “Er… yes?”

She shook her head, smiling incredulously. “I don’t know how you even exist. Someone as impossibly good as you shouldn’t exist outside the storybooks.”

I thought I’d die on the spot. My stomach twisted up in knots, and I laughed nervously. “Um… I thought you knew I, uh, have a darker side in my, er…”

“I know.” She smiled wider, putting her hands in her pockets. “Ava gave me your journal.”

I think it was a miracle I didn’t actually have a heart attack and die. I felt like the floor dropped out, and I lost my breath like I’d been hit in the chest. “She—the—what? Jesus Christ, no, you’re joking. I said—she was supposed to give it to Matthew, not—” I raked my hands through my hair, my head spinning in every direction. “No. She didn’t actually give it to you, right?”

She relaxed, giving me that satisfied smile that said she was loving this. “She did.”

“Oh my god. No, no, no, no, no.” I clasped a hand over my mouth, mind wheeling back through everything I’d written. “Tell me you didn’t read it. Please, please, please tell me you didn’t read it.”

She laughed. “Ah… wouldn’t you, if the roles were reversed?”

“Oh, Jesus.” I put a hand to my forehead, turning away, and turning away still until I found myself turning full circle and back to Giselle. “Okay. Um… I can just go. Away. From all human civilization—forever—”

“Apparently that’s the plan?” Her smile faded, and she gave me a look of soft, gentle concern. My throat felt tight, like—like I didn’t deserve that, like I never did. “Leaving everything behind…”

“Oh…” I looked down. “I mean… it was already unprecedented to give me a second chance. I definitely don’t have a third chance.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Her voice was so sweet, so… gentle. Worried. Caring about me. Why? She’d read all the awful things I’d written. Had actually seen the raw, unvarnished truth about me. So why…? “Do you at least have a place to go?”

“No… not really. I don’t know.” I sighed, hanging my head, and I found my hands folded at my waist. “I guess, maybe, yeah. Sooyeon told me I could stay at her parents’ house, I just don’t know… I don’t want her to get in trouble for supporting me.”

She put a hand on my upper arm, a soft, tender touch, and it sent a jolt of anxiety through me—I couldn’t for the life of me understand what this was, why she wasn’t angry at me, why she was being so good, and I stepped back without even meaning to, away from her touch, and—and stumbling again. Pain stabbed in my knee, and I winced, sinking against the wall, and Giselle raised her eyebrows high.

“Primrose—are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… fell. Earlier. Hit my knee. Kind of embarrassing. Someone had to walk me off the ice.”

“The ice?”

“I mean—” I felt my face burn. “Off… to… the side.”

She softened. “Were you skating?”

I laughed, a hoarse sound in my throat. “Trying to. I’m really not good at it. Jordan had some choice words about working my way up instead of trying to go straight to these jumps, as if she ever works on anything intentionally.”

She covered up a laugh, eyes shimmering. “You’re still practicing axels.”

“No—uh. Jumps in general, just… oh my god, forget it.” I raked my hand through my hair, looking away. “Giselle—aren’t you mad at me?”

I’d tried to be casual, flippant, offhand, but I didn’t make it—the sound was soft, small, almost pleading. The scared tremor in my voice spoke volumes, and I winced at the sound of it. The hallway fell into a silence I couldn’t bear for a few seconds, maybe hours, maybe years, before Giselle sighed, a sad little smile on her lips.

“How in the world could I be mad at you?” she said, her voice small, soft, sweet. “You put everything you have at risk just trying to keep me safe. And not even in a way that I’d know about it, just… just doing it because you care. It would have been so easy to just do your job and sell me out, but you didn’t. How would I not believe you? How could I resent you for that?” She gestured around at the hall, the building around us, filled with the swelling music of the skater on the ice right now. “Even this. Quietly, you arrange everything for me just because you want that for me. And I… I needed it. A lot.”

I swallowed. “You looked so sad about this whole thing… did something happen?”

She looked away. “Just a fight with Cass. Right after I’d read your journal and had to deal with how badly I was going to miss you, and how unfair it was about everything you were going through. And I haven’t been able to skate for my life since… since we…”

I dropped my gaze to the floor between us, my chest heavy. “Since Andrea told you about me. About us.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Guess that was the plan, wasn’t it? That I wouldn’t be able to skate anymore.”

“Mm-hm… and I went along with it.” I hugged myself. “I don’t deserve forgiveness just because I felt bad for it. You’re still here because of me.”

She laughed. I looked up in surprise, and she put a hand on her hip. “Here being what? Like I’m in such a sorry state you pity me?”

“You know that’s not what I mean. Just… hurt. And doubting yourself, and…”

“I think… actually, I might be just fine,” she said, softening into the sweetest smile that made me want to break down a little. “You know, I’d been thinking…”

The door behind her squeaked open, and I saw a woman with a tablet in her arm lean out, smiling at us. “Giselle Lawson? You’re going to be out on the ice soon.”

“Ah—I’ll be right there,” she said, before turning back to me. I dropped my gaze, shy and anxious now with a million thoughts I didn’t know if I dared entertain.

“I’m sorry, I’m holding you up. Um… I can’t wait to see. You’ve always… you’ve always been so beautiful when you skate…”

“Thanks. I’ll do my best out there.” She stood up straighter, and she touched a hand to my arm—lightly, fingertips dancing over my skin, and I couldn’t help thinking maybe this was… “You’re going to do great, too,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll pull off an axel in no time. Just don’t hurt yourself too much in the process, okay?”

I laughed, a nervous sound bubbling up out of my throat, as I glanced up and met her gaze. “Is it fun?”

“Injuring yourself on the ice? As an expert, let me say it’s not.”

“Doing an axel,” I laughed. “It looks exhilarating.”

“Still remember the first time I landed one. I felt like a goddamn superhero.” She brushed a thumb over my cheek, smiling so wide her eyes crinkled in the corner, creasing her dramatic stage eyeliner. “Switzerland is beautiful.”

I heard myself laugh, breathless, my heart missing a beat, maybe another. “Break a leg, Giselle. Just not literally.”

“Got enough leg injuries between us already. See you after, Primrose.”

I touched a hand to my cheek as she turned away and walked back through the door after the coordinator, and I sank back against the wall, just breathing, long and slow.

She was going to do great out on the ice. Zachary would hate it.