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Cat is thirty-six and Liz is thirty-two. They told me when I was in middle school that I was a mistake and the reason our parents got divorced. Mom assured me it was nonsense and grounded my sisters for a week, but I know it’s probably the truth because Dad left before I turned one.

Once I’ve set the table, I sneak off to my childhood bedroom and check my phone. There are a few ‘merry Christmas’ messages from my college friends and a couple from my best friends from high school. We hung out last week, so we’re pretty caught up on recent events. Honestly, I’m not bothered about any of them.

My finger hovers over Joy’s name. The last message in our thread sitting there like a splinter.Creep.

Frowning, I type out a message.

ME: Merry Christmas JoyJoy. If you need rescuing let me know.

My smile is sad as I stare down at the words. If she does need rescuing, I’m the last person she’d ask to save her. The fact that she’s even talking to me is a miracle.

Although, since I made the decision to chase after her and try to clear the air before Thanksgiving, things have been a little easier. When I say easier, I mean awkward as hell. At least when I was pretending she didn’t exist, I didn’t have to put up with her forced smiles and calling me ‘Coach’.

What’s worse is watching her laughing and flirting with Aldo. It’s not like I didn’t expect her to move on, but seeing it happen right in front of me is more painful than I anticipated.

Sinking down onto my bed, I drop my head back with a groan. What did I think was going to happen? That she was going to come running back into my arms? Maybe a little part of me was hoping that the spark between us would flare back to life. My phone vibrates and I sit up so quickly I crick my neck.

JOY: Merry Christmas. I snuck wine in my suitcase

I laugh. Her parents will pitch a fit if they find her drinking mid-season.

ME: Be careful

JOY: I’m almost 22. What are they gonna do? Call my coach?

The eyeroll comes through loud and clear, even without the emoji. She has a point, but they’ll still find a way to make her life even more miserable. Her dad is overbearing and intimidating. His entire life has revolved around sport and there’s no gray area. No fun.

Joy’s mother is a whole different thing. She’s petite, beautiful, and quiet. But it’s all surface. Just like her synchronized swimming, beneath the still waters there’s more going on than you’d expect. She’s cold, calculating, and ruthless.

ME: If they do I’ll tell them it’s part of an experimental training technique

JOY: lol

My shoulders relax a little. It almost feels like old times, the months between trials and competitions, where we’d speak every night. Before we crossed the line from friendship into something more, we’d talk about everything. Joy was the first person I came to when I realized I was attracted to men as well as women. She’s always been my number one. When I injured myself skiing, it was the first time I withheld something from her. And it sucked.

I rub at my chest as a sharp pain settles there. The last four years have been some of the loneliest of my life.

JOY: How are Liz and Cat?

ME: As uptight and boring as ever

JOY: They’re fine. You’re a dick

I snort. Liz and Cat never met Joy, but I know they’d love her. Hell, everyone loves Joy. It’s impossible not to.

ME: Fair point

Taking a deep breath, I type out my next message before I lose the nerve.

ME: Are you seeing Aldo?

She doesn’t reply immediately but I’m not surprised. My question is completely left field. I chew my lip, staring at the screen, waiting.

JOY: What? Like right now?

ME: No. Like, are you dating him?

With every ripple of the three dots my stomach clenches tighter. It’s a stupid question because the answer is inconsequential. If she is dating him, there’s fuck all I can do about it. If she’s not, it doesn’t mean that she’ll date me. She’s said she’ll try to forgive me, but that doesn’t mean we can get back what we had.

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