Chapter Seventeen

brYAN

AUGUST

CRABAPPLE CUP—NORWOOD, MASS.

P ractice ice is over, and we’re trudging through the entrance of the hotel lobby, the automatic doors having parted and letting us in along with a frigid gust of wind.

“Oh, warm,” I groan, as the central heating washes over me, despite the practically subzero outside temperatures having numbed my hands and face to the point that I can’t feel them.

I plunk twenty pounds of skating crap down on the floor by the wall, then take my Rangers cap off, shaking my hair out to get rid of any stray snowflakes before putting it back on backwards. “Sheesh. I might actually be an ice cube before we get a chance to compete tomorrow.”

Katya turns to look at me, putting her stuff down by mine with considerably less noise. She side-eyes me, tugging her braid out of her jacket. “Can you quit complaining for five seconds, or would it actually kill you?”

“I think it would kill me,” I deadpan, and she rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to shoot off a retort when she gets cut off by the sound of a name I haven’t heard in years.

“Big B!”

I turn around to the source of two booming, heavily accented voices, and sure enough, it’s none other than exactly who I think it is.

“Fritz and Fritz!” I yell, and jog over to the two scrawny guys who are now whooping and hollering and making everyone else in the lobby turn to stare.

“Where the hell have you been, stronzo ?” Fabrizio laughs, clapping me on the back with enough force to make my knees buckle, and Fritz rolls his big blue German boy eyes, shoving our friend in the side.

“Leave him alone, the man’s just had the misfortune of seeing you again.”

“ Si , for the first time in two years, jerk,” Fabrizio fires back at me. “You know, you’re lucky I’m not giving you a wedgie right now. The audacity to leave us behind while you’re off partying in America?”

“Well, at least we were getting medals,” Fritz mumbles, and I shove him.

“ Shut up,” I groan, and Fabrizio cackles in that high, stringy voice of his—he’s so painfully Italian that you can hear the spaghetti and European fuckboy alongside the choppy consonants. He glances past me, doing a visible double-take. “ Che cazzo ,” he blurts.

That’s when I realize that Katya’s been standing behind me this whole time. “Oh, yeah. Guys, this is Katya, my…partner.”

Fritz raises an eyebrow. “Trust me, she needs no introduction, especially not from you . Nice to finally meet you, Katya.”

Katya stifles a smile, taking his hand and shaking it. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Then I’ll take it as an insult,” I joke, although it’s true, and she elbows me.

“ Stupido , you shake her hand?” Fabrizio hisses to Fritz, before looking back at her. “I am so sorry, Ekaterina, I am surrounded by imbeciles.” He takes the hand Fritz just shook, raising it to his lips and planting a kiss on it. “I am Fabrizio Gallo. It is my honor to meet such a distinguished skater of our time, not to mention one so beautiful.”

Katya busts out laughing, and I roll my eyes, prying her hand away from him. “Okay, okay, quit drooling, guys.”

Fritz throws his hands up. “I did nothing.”

Fabrizio widens his eyes. “Neither did I! I cannot be nice to a beautiful girl? Mio Dio , Young, get your head out of the gutter.”

Katya grins. “Yes, Young, get your head out of the gutter.”

I shake my head. “I think introducing you all might have been one of my worst ideas yet.”

“I thought that was when we drank three gallons of sake the night before Junior Worlds in Okinawa,” Fritz comments, and Fabrizio and I both groan in unison.

We’d been so hungover the next day that we’d all overslept and nearly missed our skate, and even then barely got through it without passing out. Luckily, I’d had enough adrenaline, not to mention the fear of Lian Chen, running through my veins in order to keep me in top place after the free.

Katya raises her eyebrows. “My god. You’re lucky to be alive. Didn’t Lian murder you?”

I grimace at the memory. “I’d get nervous to even drink water after that if she was standing there watching.”

“We should continue the tradition,” Fabrizio jokes, and Fritz rolls his eyes.

“I think at this point all liquor stores in the world have a restraining order against you. If they haven’t gotten the memo here, I’m personally informing them.”

“ Never doubt me. Anyway, we’re glad to have you back, stronzo ,” Fabrizio says, clapping me on the shoulder.

“He means it,” Fritz adds. “Both of us. And we’re even more glad we don’t have to worry about dragging your bitchass to hell and back this week now that you’ve swapped to pairs.”

I snort. “Thanks, guys. Well,” I say, turning to wrap my arm around my partner’s shoulders, “me and the Ice Queen over here have to go prepare for tomorrow.”

“By prepare, he means fall asleep and snore so loud I can hear him down the hall. I am going to the gym,” Katya says pointedly, and the guys all oooh .

“Looks like she’s showing you up,” Fritz teases, and I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m used to it. You all can keep making fun of me tomorrow, I’m going to go hit the gym, apparently. Try not to get your stomachs pumped before I see you.”

“No promises,” Fabrizio jokes, and we all turn to go.

“Good luck tomorrow,” Fritz calls, and we both wave.

“I think I saw a pub on the way over here,” I can hear Fabrizio say, and Fritz cusses him out in German.

“They’re funny,” Katya remarks, and I turn to grin at her.

“Since when do you have a sense of humor, sunshine?”

“Since your mother birthed a boy with a gigantic turd instead of a brain.”

“Hilarious. Anyway, yeah, they are funny. I’ve known Fritz and Fritz since we were all juniors, they kinda took me under their wing. Became my best friends on the road.”

Katya nods. “I think I recognize them. My—well, Vanya. Ivan? Skorniakov? You might know of him from before. He is still a junior, but competes in men’s singles as well.”

Skorniakov ? I try to keep the horror off my face. God, if Gordon Brewer used to give me nightmares, Ivan Skorniakov was my sleep paralysis demon. That kid’s gotta be only fifteen or sixteen, but he’s already light years ahead of any of the other guys in juniors or seniors. The only reason he didn’t wipe the floor with Brewer at Junior Worlds last year was because he’d gotten injured training for quintuple jumps or whatever kind of craziness he’s up to. “You know that kid?”

Katya smiles. “Of course I do. I train with him. Trained ,” she corrects herself. “He’s like my little brother. I’ve known him and his siblings since we were children. Absolute terrors, the lot of them.” She lets out a laugh. “Once, Vanya lit sparklers to wake me up on my birthday. Not only did it scare me to death, it also nearly set my sheets on fire.”

“Don’t give me any ideas,” I say, grinning again, and she smirks as we turn back to pick up our things.

“If the two of you ever end up in the same room, remind me to run as fast as I can.”

“Why, because we’d gang up to torture you?”

“Because there’s no guarantee any of us would make it out alive.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The look on her face makes me laugh.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. Why is it that everyone keeps talking about you like you’re back from the dead?” Katya’s still smiling. “Those guys, Lian, your friends, the commentators. It’s so strange.”

My stomach drops to the floor.

Just a couple words, and suddenly I’m sixteen again, biking in the middle of a snowstorm, tears freezing in my eyes, emptying my stomach on the salted concrete at four in the morning. Man up, Bryan! Get yourself together! None of this means anything!

Back from the dead. I know it’s a metaphor, but it feels pretty spot on. A part of me died that night. Died on the side of the road, celebration pancakes coming up acrid.

She was going to find out at one point. That’s logical. But there’s a voice inside me screaming to do anything I have to not to let her. She’s going to find out she cannot find out . I can’t have another person looking at me with pity, knowing how far I’ve fallen from grace. The shame is making me sick. “They’re stupid. Just ignore them.”

Now she just looks more suspicious. “Why?”