Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I had expected harsh, angular modern architecture like the Ice Academy complex. Instead, Sheila Lin’s house was pure Hollywood glamour.

The facade was all white: painted brick, custom-glazed terra-cotta roof tiles, arched window casings. Fluted columns flanked the front door, which could only be reached via a steep imperial staircase. I’d grown up marveling at the Gilded Age mansions on Chicago’s North Shore, but the Ice Palace put them all to shame. It looked fit for a movie star. Or a queen.

Ellis tossed his keys to the valet—who was dressed much better than Heath—and we ascended the staircase. I picked up my feet like a trotting horse, but Arielle’s trendy platform sandals kept catching on the steps. Heath put a hand on my waist to steady me and kept it there as we made our way inside.

The interior was white too: the floors, the walls, the furniture, the marble mantelpiece in the two-story living room. The only hint of color came from Sheila’s Olympic gold medals, hung above the fireplace like hunting trophies.

I didn’t see Sheila herself, but the space was already packed full of other athletic luminaries. In the center of the room, Sheila’s old partner, Kirk Lockwood, held court, leaning against the back of a sculptural chair with the sort of haughty I-belong-here ease Heath and I struggled to cultivate in our Cole Porter program. Since retiring, Kirk had started doing commentary for skating competitions, and it was strange to hear his smooth baritone voice live and in person instead of through my television speakers.

The rest of the crowd was similarly impressive. In addition to the many Olympic medalists, there were movie stars, rock stars, fashion designers, fashion models, and politicians—including Josie Hayworth’s senator father and his fake-blond second wife.

All three Hayworths stood by the massive sliding doors that opened to the backyard, talking to Garrett Lin. Josie kept touching Garrett’s arm and laughing so loud I could hear her over the jazz combo playing out on the patio.

“What do you think?” Ellis said. “Food first, or should we rescue Garrett before Josie unhinges her jaw and swallows him whole?”

“Why do you skate with her anyway?” I asked. Ellis wasn’t the most talented skater, but he was decent enough—and male ice dancers were in such demand, even the mediocre ones had their pick of partners.

He shrugged. “Her parents paid the best.”

“They pay you?” Heath said.

“They pay for everything. Training, housing, equipment, costumes, travel. It’s the only way they can get anyone to put up with their darling daughter for more than a season. I’m her third partner. Or is it fourth? I always forget.”

Across the room, Garrett edged away from Josie, bumping into the doorjamb. Instead of taking the hint, she stepped closer, squeezing his bicep.

“Looks like she’s gunning to make Garrett Lin number five,” I said.

“In her dreams. He’s too rich to be bought, and too nice to ever leave his sister.”

Garrett noticed us looking his way. His face lit up with a smile. He excused himself from his conversation with the Hayworths—leaving both Josie and her stepmother with sour-lemon expressions—and crossed the room to greet us.

“Hey! You made it.” Garrett bent down and kissed my cheek. Heath’s grip on my hand tightened. “Are you hungry? Can I get you a drink, or—”

“We’re good,” Heath said.

Garrett glossed right over Heath’s attempt to speak for me. “Kat?”

“Water would be great,” I told him. “Thank you.”

“Come on, it’s a party! The bartender makes these incredible pomegranate daiquiris.” He grinned. “Virgin, of course.”

“Okay, I’ll take one of those.” I couldn’t help smiling back; even at fifteen, Garrett’s charm was infectious.

“Me too,” Ellis said.

Garrett mimed writing down our orders. “Two daiquiris, coming right up. You sure I can’t get you anything, Rocha?”

Heath shook his head, mouth set in a sullen line. As soon as Garrett headed toward the bar, I leaned over to whisper in Heath’s ear. “He’s just trying to be nice.”

“Trust me,” Heath said. “I’ve noticed how nice Garrett Lin is to you.”

He didn’t bother with whispering—and Ellis didn’t bother to conceal his delight at the obvious tension brewing between us.

I tugged on Heath’s hand. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

He stood back with his hands in his pockets while I loaded up a plate with enough for both of us. To anyone else, his expression looked blank, but I knew him well enough to pick up on the disgust in his eyes.

Wealth like the kind the Lins had seemed incomprehensible to me, so I could only imagine how appalling it was to someone with Heath’s background. That enormous house for only three residents, more money than plenty of people made in a year blown on a single party, piles of gourmet food that would probably be tossed in a dumpster at the end of the evening.

Still, we were guests. There was no need to be rude.

“Hey.” I set the plate down and took Heath’s face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Cranky.” I kissed him. His mouth stayed stiff and unyielding. “Broody.”

“You knew I didn’t want to come here, Katarina.”

I dropped my hands. “Then you shouldn’t have come. No one forced you.”

I was no longer sure whether we were talking about the party, or about Los Angeles in general. Either way, I’d had about enough of his bad attitude.

Garrett reappeared with a crimson drink in a sugared-rim cocktail glass. “Virgin daiquiri for the lady.” He produced a small bottle from his jacket pocket and held it out to Heath. “And I grabbed you a water, just in case. Hope sparkling’s okay.”

For a moment, I felt sure Heath was going to dash the bottle against the floor. Instead, he took it with a toothy, sarcastic grin. I’d never seen him look that way at anyone but my brother.

“Sparkling is splendid, thank you ever so much.”

Garrett’s friendly smile faltered. “Well, uh, let me know if I can get you anything else.”

As soon as Garrett was out of earshot, I dug my nails into Heath’s wrist. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with you ? The Katarina I know would be making fun of all these stuck-up assholes, not sucking up to them.”

“You’re the one who’s being an asshole right now, not Garrett. He can’t help his upbringing any more than you can help yours.”

I knew that would hit a nerve, and I said it anyway. Heath wrenched out of my grip and slammed his sparkling water down on the nearest table.

“Heath.”

He turned, the heels of his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, and stalked out into the yard.

“Heath.”

I’d raised my voice loud enough that two women—actresses I vaguely recognized from a prime-time drama—turned to stare at me. I dipped my head toward my drink to hide the flush spreading across my face.

“Where’s he off to in such a hurry?”

Ellis Dean sidled up, holding his own cocktail. Heath was so far away now he looked like a smudge against the sky. I wasn’t sure whether he was going to cool off and come back, or leave the party—and I told myself I didn’t give a damn either way. He could walk back to the Grange for all I cared.

“He’s…not feeling well,” I told Ellis.

“Sure.” Ellis held out his elbow. “Shall we mingle?”

I linked my arm through his, and for the next hour, we made the rounds together. Ellis was fearless in a crowd the way I was on the ice. As he insinuated himself into conversations with famous strangers, I watched and learned—and clutched my drink close, terrified I might spill sticky red slush all over Sheila Lin’s immaculate decor.

Around sunset, I finally spotted her—and Bella. They stood side by side on the patio, backlit with burnished light. Sheila wore a white gown with an intricately twisted Grecian goddess neckline, while Bella’s dress was pale blue with delicate white embroidery, in a similar bias-cut slip style to the one I’d borrowed from Arielle. On her, though, the fabric skimmed over her body instead of clinging. She and her mother looked so alike. Not only their features, but their gestures, their posture, their practiced smiles.

I thought about nudging Ellis in that direction—approaching Sheila seemed less nerve-wracking with him as a conversational wingman—but the Lin women were already occupied, talking to an older lady with tightly coiled red hair.

“Who’s that?” I asked. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.

“Jane Currer,” Ellis said.

“The judge?”

Jane was the official whose harsh artistic score cost Heath and me a medal at Nationals. And now there she was, laughing with the Lins like they were old friends.

“Don’t tell me you thought this sport was fair, ” Ellis said. “That’s adorable.”

He pointed out a few other guests. “She’s a judge too. And him. And that guy’s the current second in command at the U.S. Figure Skating Association, but if Sheila has her way, he’ll have the top job by the start of the season.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I pay attention.” He raised his glass in a sweeping gesture. “You want to win on the ice, you have to win here first.”

I didn’t want to believe him. I thought my talent and hard work would be enough.

That’s how young and foolish I was.

—

As the sun faded and the temperature fell, all the partygoers who’d been on the patio retreated indoors. The doors were pulled shut against the night air, and what had been a pleasant hum of small talk and soft music became a cacophony, ricocheting off the vaulted ceiling.

Still no sign of Heath. A headache brewed behind my eyes, from the noise and the too sweet mocktail and all that smiling, so I left Ellis trading Parisian nightlife tales with Arielle’s partner, Lucien, and slipped into the backyard alone.

The night might have felt freezing to the Californians, but it was balmy to me. And quiet, despite the distant thunder of fireworks displays farther down the coast. I slipped off my shoes and let my feet sink into the grass.

I didn’t miss my house. I certainly didn’t miss my brother. But I had missed that feeling. Breeze on my skin, blades of grass between my toes, waves crashing in the distance. I shut my eyes for a moment, savoring the calm, steeling myself to go back inside.

When I opened them again, I saw her.

Bella Lin. She perched on the stone wall bordering the in-ground swimming pool. Her hair was down, tumbling past her shoulders—the first time I’d seen it loose.

She hadn’t spotted me yet. I weighed my options. If I was quick, I could sneak back inside before she noticed my presence.

Too late. Bella looked up, and I braced myself for another scathing glare.

It never came. Her eyes were softer than I’d ever seen them, and her usually ballet-perfect posture was slumped. But it wasn’t simply weariness.

Bella Lin looked lonely.

I took a step toward her. She’d removed her shoes too, and her bare feet dangled over the water, her shiny pedicure reflecting the eerie blue of the pool lights.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” I asked.

“Well, I’m not alone now, am I.” Her voice was flat, impassive.

There I was, trying to be nice—okay, maybe not nice, but civil, at least. And she was throwing it back in my face. The longer I let her animosity go unchallenged, the more power she’d have over me. Better to get it all out in the open.

“Look.” I folded my arms. “I know you don’t like me. I ran into you at Nationals—which was an accident, by the way—and you don’t want me here. At this party, or at the Academy.”

Bella stared at me. It was the same unreadable expression Sheila wore during training.

“But I’m not going anywhere,” I continued. “So we’re going to have to learn to get along, or at least to—”

“You’re wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

“I do want you here,” Bella said.

I scoffed. “Really.”

“Yes, really.” She lifted her chin. “I’m the one who asked my mother to invite you.”