Page 76 of Breaking Away

I’ve got maybe two or three weeks to figure out what to do next and how to take control of my life. There’s no place to be this flushed, thinking of glasses, a sinfully tattooed defenseman, and however many inches he may or may not have. Not when so much is at stake.

It sucks because before this, I thought my life was alright, even if sometimes there was this deeply buried pit in my stomach. I ignored any underlying restlessness, pushing forward. I didn’t challenge what I was doing.

But pretend, for example, that I hadn’t taken a backseat to Tyler’s vision of our life; pretend that I’d spoken up for myself before getting this old, almost thirty; and that I’d invested in not being so reliant. And I don’t know why it wasn’t a screaming necessity for me before, but there’s a scream inside me now.

I don’t have a fiancé. There’s no subsidized apartment waiting for me in Seattle.

My dad will not be paying me to be his assistant right now.

Photography gigs also pay very little.

I’m actually lost.

And it’s up to me to figure out how to save myself.

Dmitri may have given me this apartment for a few weeks, but at some point, he’ll kick me out.

It’s up to me to be ready when that happens.

So with what I think shows maximum restraint, I unpack all my belongings in his extra bedroom. Everything is folded and neatly put away. Then I shower and touch myself.

A healthy way to expel horniness out of the system. Fantasies shouldn’t be persecuted or scrutinized. They don’t count.

Even when they feature thoughts of an amorphous man who coincidentally has tattoos, a glorious bum and many inches…

It’s the closest I’ll ever get to someone like him, I rationalize further to myself later.

For I might be living here, but the plan is to never run into Lokhov.

31

DMITRI

I’m backin Vancouver after being away for two games. It’s past midnight when I come home, but I still stop in front of my second bedroom, wondering if Kavi is there, sleeping on the other side.

She was supposed to move in while I was gone, but part of me doesn’t believe she’s there.

My palm hovers above her doorknob, then I bring it down again.

Her light is off.

There’s nothing we need to say to each other.

Hey. I’m checking to see if you’re really here. That I haven’t imagined you.

I go to bed.

In the morning, I toss on sweatpants before I head towards the kitchen.

All the lights are off.

Before I can switch them on, I notice the glare of something sharp. It’s the only thing illuminated in the apartment since my windows have blackout curtains and they haven’t been pulled up yet. I pad closer.

A dark shape comes into focus. The sheen of pink hair.

My heart constricts. She’s here. She came.

Kavi.

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