Page 84 of Oh, Flutz!

I sigh. “Forget I asked.”

“No, actually, since you asked. I’m doing great. On top of training, I have to go to a psychiatrist twice a week, and to the pharmacy to get my prescriptions. I’m getting zero sleep, and I’m on the verge of killing myself, all thanks toyou.” She injects so much sarcasm into that one word that I’m already feeling my blood pressure rise.

I rub at my temples. “I can’t deal with this again. I can’t.”

Her eyes flash, and her mouth twists into a mean smile. “Sure you can. Otherwise you wouldn’t have done it. Although, now that you mention it, it wouldn’t be the first time you bit off more than you could swallow.”

“Chew,” I correct automatically, then shut my eyes. “Katya. Please. Come on. You have to stop being pissed at me over something Lian did.”

“No, I don’t, because it’s your fault, not hers.”

“For God’s sake, Katya, I didn’tdoanything!”

“Yes! You did, and you know it!” she cries, and I swear, I’m about two seconds from imploding. My head is swimming.

“Katya,” I try, and my chest feels so tight, I can’t breathe—

She shakes her head, and not before I can see the burning red all over her pale face, looking so overwhelmed she could burst into tears at any second, not that she would let me see it. “No! I won’t let you talk your way out of this. I won’t let you convince me to let me forgive you. I won’t. Ican’t.”

I can practically hear my heart pounding in my chest. I feel like I’m walking underwater. “What the hell do you want from me?” I croak.

“I want you to admit it.”

“Katya—”

“Admit that you were wrong to do that to me. That you broke my trust. Admit that I’m not crazy!”

“I didn’t do anything. She walked in! And I’m not the one that had a meltdown here.” It’s a low blow, and I know it the second it’s out of my mouth, but even if it’s not going to help me at all I can’t help but put up a pathetic last defense.

Sure enough, her expression cracks, and out comes even more fury. “You don’t know anything about me. You hadnoright—”

And suddenly, my chest splits open. “You don’t know anything aboutme!” I yell, so loudly and unexpectedly we both physically startle. Her eyes widen. I actually scare myself a little bit, didn’t even mean to say it, feel bad about saying it like that, but now that I’m going there’s no stopping. “Christ, Katya, have you even noticed that I haven’t been acting normal lately? Or, like, evenslightlydifferent from usual? That I’ve been arriving late and leaving early? That I’ve been on the phone and in a shitty mood and stressed out of my mind? No?”

She doesn’t reply, and I scoff. “Of course not. All you care about is yourself. I hate to break it to you, Katya, but it’s just like you and your self-destructive bullshit. If you’re in trouble, I’m in trouble. And ifI’min trouble, so are you. There’s also the matter of being a decent fucking human being, but I guess that’s asking too much.”

Katya doesn’t say anything. She looks like she’s in shock, absorbing the words, but I can’t even make myself feel bad about raising my voice. I just rake my fingers through my hair and collapse on the bench, rubbing at my face furiously.

God, I need to get my shit together. This is nothing compared to any of the other crap my parents have pulled, so I don’t know why it’s throwing me off so much. I’m doing it to myself, I really am. It’s like getting bad scores in competition. I should be used to it by now. I don’t know why my head won’t let me be.

I really want to be used to it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

KATYA

OCTOBER

AMERICAN PRIX—COLUMBUS, OHIO

“Okay, um, I mightjust have blocked it out, but I definitely don’t remember there being this many people the last time I was at an international competition,” Bryan says nervously.

Lian raises a brow, lips quirking. “That’s because you’ve never been to a senior level one. Welcome to the big leagues, kid.”

I may have spent five seasons in thebig leaguesby now, but even I’m starting to feel it. Even I’m starting to get a bit itchy at the thought of all the people here watching us today. And whenever I look at my partner, I remember the silence after his outburst back home.

Once he’d finally gotten it out of his system, it was like all the air had gone out of him, like when you fill up a balloon and let it go, the air rushing out and propelling it across the room until it falls splat to the ground in a wrinkly latex husk. I’ve never seen him like that before. Sure, after rough skates, he’ll be grumpy, he’ll be tired, but never like that. Never so…wrung out.

I don’t want him to look like that.I’mthe one that’s supposed to be in a terrible mood all the time. And if we want to do well for the rest of this season, we both need to be on top of our game. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but for both our sakes, we need to get our act together. So if it takes me giving him a break sometimes, I’ll do it. I’ll listen more. I’ll be a little more understanding. It can’t be that hard, right?

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