Page 96 of Revolve
She drags the suitcase to an upright position. “That was for a concert, and I love you for it, but will you really have time to knit?”
I shrug. “What else am I going to do for hours in the hotel room?”
“I’ve got that all figured out for you. There’s a gift in your suitcase. You’ll thank me later.” I narrow my eyes, but she gives me a mischievous look, knowing I can’t open the suitcase and check right now. “Or you can do whatever Dylan is doing. I bet he never gets bored.”
“Your interest in his personal life needs to be studied.”
She snorts. “The guy is like a disco ball. It’s hard to look away from him. But you two together? Impossible.”
“Hotter than your Russian team?”
“Way.” She beams, helping me up from my slumped position on the floor. “Besides, I doubt any of these skaters started their partnership with a hot make-out on the crash mats.”
We carry my suitcase and gym bag with my skates and costume to the front door. It’s only when I get into Lidia’s car that she tells meDylan has hockey practice, so he’s driving himself to the arena in Lake Placid later.
“I’M HERE,” DYLANsays as soon as he bursts through the doors to the waiting area, just as I counted thirty-two whole minutes since I’ve been here, laced up and ready to go. All the skaters turn to look at him, and he doesn’t bother even smiling at anyone. He looks exhausted.
His hair is disheveled when he brushes it back and pulls on his backward baseball cap, and he’s got on a crewneck and sweats. He drops his skate bag with a thud, then slumps on the bench beside me.
Before the performance we get Friday to familiarize ourselves with the arena and practice one last time before the show. Here, we do both our short and long program, and we get a score for each individually, before they’re combined to show our final standing. The free skate—or long program—is what I’m stressing about. If we do well on that, it’s where we’ll rack up the major points.
“Relax.” Dylan bumps my shoulder with his.
“I am,” I mutter. He was late. We could have tweaked so much in our programs.
“Your level four shaking is making everyone question whether there’s an earthquake.”
“And your scowl is putting them at ease? I think you scared some of the kids.”
“Are you pissed at me or something?”
“What? No. I’m just … nervous.” This is our last shot to even be considered for a bigger competition, so I’m a little irritable. Dylan quietly puts something on my thigh, and when I look down, it’s a Reese’s peanut butter cup. The gesture squeezes the crap out of my heart.
“I didn’t mean to be late, Sierra.”
“I know,” I say. “I said I’m not pissed at you.”
“You blink twice when you lie,” he says simply, finishing lacing his skates. “And your nose twitches a little, like Pinocchio.”
“You—”
“Stop it,” Lidia scolds. “We all just got here. How are you arguing already?”
“We’re not arguing,” I say.
Dylan leans into me and places a hand on my tense shoulder, as though we’re best friends. His hand is warm on my cold skin, and I pretend that’s the reason goose bumps start to rise. I glance up to see him wearing a wide smile, and I mirror it for Lidia, who remains unmoved by our forced display of camaraderie.
“I’m going to sign you two in. Go find some place to warm up.”
She walks through the double doors to the administration desk, and I watch her descent until she’s completely out of view. I discreetly pull out my pill bottle, the one with the pink knitted sleeve.
“Anxious?” Dylan asks.
I’ve been taking them quickly before some practices, though I don’t need them as often. He’d only know that if he’d been watching me. “It’s a crutch, I know,” I admit. “Sometimes it feels like I’m cheating.”
He frowns. “Cheating?”
“Like I’m taking the easy way out. I used to be able to do this without a pill. So many athletes do it every day without help.” I’m rambling.
