Page 12 of Where We Belong

“Scared?”

“It’s not like you’ve given the best first impression,” I say, avoiding the question, because the truth is, I’m not scared. I probably should be, but as annoying as this guy is, I don’t think he’d hurt me. He doesn’t give off that vibe, and I’ve learned to have a good radar for that type of thing.

He sighs, his smirk disappearing. “About that. I want to set the record straight. That wasn’t me.”

I fake gasp. “Do you have a twin brother I didn’t know about?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, itwasme in Italy, but I didn’t steal from you. I just…didn’t stop them. The other guys.”

“Is that supposed to make a difference?”

“I hope it does?” he says before taking a step forward. Reflexively, I take one back, which stops him in his tracks. His jaw shifts. “Look, I’m not a bad person. I swear. I did some dumb shit when I was younger, but that’s not who I am anymore.”

My lips twist to the side. “They didn’t just take my money. They stole my ID too. Do you know how much I hate going to the DMV?”

He chuckles, still looking stricken with regret. “I’m really, really sorry.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he seems honest. Plus, I’ve spent a lot of time with Shelli since I got here, and she’s as good as they come. I don’t see how she could raise an outright bad person.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay.” I go to grab my water bottle. “What else do you want from me?”

“I don’t know? For you to accept the apology?”

I twist the cap open and take a large gulp. “Fine, I accept it.” Putting the bottle down, I say, “But just so you know, I’m as petty as they come, so don’t expect me to becomebubblyanytime soon.”

He lifts one of his shoulders. “I’ll take it.”

I watch as he stays there, not taking his eyes and his too-energetic smile away from me. Finally, he claps his hands and says, “So, as I was saying: you’re not gonna win with this.”

It takes me a second to figure out what he’s talking about, and when I do, I wish I hadn’t. “I’m sorry, did you get a coaching accreditation in the past five minutes and I didn’t notice?”

“My mother’s been bringing me to women’s gymnastics competitions since I was a baby. I know a good deal about it, and you’re obviously really fucking great, but I’m telling you, that routine won’t get you where you want to be.”

My jaw clenches, and I keep myself from telling him the thought had already crossed my mind. In the time since that routine was made, trends have changed. Skills have evolved. It’s probably not up to par with what other people are doing out there for this year’s season, but what am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can afford choreographers and additional coaches when I don’t have a gym backing me. Plus, as Andy said, I’m “uncoachable” and “too old for this.” Fucker.

“Well, thanks for all that precious advice,” I say, “but I’m good.”

He hums in answer, then continues standing there, watching me.

“Can I help you with anything else?”

“Don’t like having an audience?” he asks, not moving an inch, that infuriating grin still there.

“You know what? I was actually done for the night.”

“Please, don’t stop on my account.”

“Don’t think that highly of yourself,” I say as I walk past him on my way toward the staff room. “You know the way out, I assume?”

He snorts. “I don’t think I’ve ever been dismissed that many times by a girl.”

Without looking back, I say, “There’s a first for everything. See ya.”

His laugh resonates behind me, and by the time I come out of the room, he’s gone.

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