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“I don’t want to go, either.”
“But you just fired your coach, you don’t have a male partner to skate with, and you also don’t like skating on your own out here – in competitions, at least. So, what are you going to do, Chandler?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not going back with her. Or, maybe, not at all.”
“Not at all?”
“Well, not right now, anyway.”
“What happens when your mom calls?”
“She won’t.”
“Your sister is probably on the phone with her right now. You really don’t think she’s going to call you and make you explain?”
“No, I haven’t really talked to my mom outside of a short phone call to say, ‘Merry Christmas,’ or, ‘Happy Birthday,’ in years, Belle. I get texts. We maybe talk briefly from time to time, but she’s always been closer to Cat. If the timeline actually made sense for this, I’d suggest that she only had me to have at least one kid go all the way to the Olympics, but I was already born by the time Cat stopped skating. She’s always seen me as a skater more than a daughter either way, though, and if that’s what she wants, then she gets the skater at the end of her competition career. If it’s over for me, then it’s over for her and me, you know?”
“Don’t say that. She sounds awful, but she’s still your mom.”
“She might have birthed me, but that doesn’t make her a mom. Your mom was a mom, Belle. This isn’t the same thing. I’ll figure out the skating thing another day, though. Right now, I want to do something else.”
“What? Restock Tootsie Rolls and Jolly Ranchers?”
Chandler smiled at her and asked, “Will you go out with me?”
“Out where? I have to work right now.”
“Belle, I’m asking you out on a date.” She giggled.
“What?”
“Will you go out on a date with me?” Chandler repeated and reached for Belle’s hand, taking it in her own and pulling Belle in a little.
“You… I mean… You’re…”
“I’m not straight, if that’s what you’re about to say.”
“But you…”
Chandler stared up at her and said, “I kissed you.”
“We were fourteen. Girls kiss girls at fourteen. Then, they go off and date boys and marry those boys and–”
“I’ve never been with a boy. Or, a guy, I guess.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Belle, I’ve only ever slept with women. I’m gay.”
“You’re–”
“A lesbian, yes.”
“What?” Belle asked and skated backward, with Chandler letting go of her hand so that she could. “You’re gay?”
“I knew it before we kissed. I liked you, too, Belle. I was just told to like boys. And to be a figure skater, especially, I was supposed to like boys. Male skaters can be gay, and it’s fine. Female skaters aren’t supposed to be. Then, we kissed, I acted like an idiot, and you were gone after that. I thought I could maybe get out of some kind of phase or something. My mom set me up on dates with male skaters, but nothing ever happened, and I knew it wouldn’t ever. Finally, I met a girl, and–” Chandler shook her head. “Well, I was just ready to finally do it, which is a bad way to lose your virginity, but she was nice, and it happened, and after, I knew for sure that I wasn’t going to be with a man ever. I just wasn’t sure that I could be in a relationship with a woman, so I’ve slept with a few, yes, but I’ve never been in a relationship with one because I couldn’t deal with disappointing everyone in that way, too. But I don’t care anymore. I want to be who I am. And who I am is someone who hasn’t stopped thinking about the first girl she kissed when she was fourteen years old.”
Belle smiled coyly and said, “You haven’t stopped thinking about me?”
