Page 63 of Oh, Flutz!

“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 giganticturdinstead 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 juniorsorseniors. 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 outshe 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?”

Chapter Eighteen

KATYA

“Because,” he replies, asif that means anything.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be—what’s it called? Party shitter?” Not even my terrible translations are making him laugh. I crease my eyebrows. “What is with you? What did I say?”

“Nothing. Can we please talk about something else now?”

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