“Wait, you got into the company?”
“Why are you so surprised? I worked hard and I got in,” she says bluntly. Right. I forgot how uptight she was. “They won’t want me anymore if they find out that I can’t dance for at least a year.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to figure that out. I was calling for a favour mostly,” Austin says cautiously.
“Sure. What is it?” I ask, half of me afraid for the answer.
“Can you tell mom for me? I won’t be able to stomach the disappointment. I’ve told dad already, but you know what he’s like. He was just happy that there’s a possibility he could get a grandson,” she laughs quietly.
“Austin, I don’t know if I can do that,” I stutter. “I don’t want all that pressure on me right now. I’ve got a show coming up.”
“Great. That’s perfect,” she says, and I wait, not knowing where she’s going with this. “Just tell her right after the show, when you’ve done your best performance and she’ll be so proud she probably won’t even care.”
I wait a minute, not saying anything. My future in figure skating at NU is riding on the back of this showcase. Not only do I need people to turn up, but my mom needs to enjoy it. She needs to see that I’ve put my blood, sweat and tears into my practicing. And now, she needs to be prouder than ever so Austin’s pregnancy can fly right over her head. If not, this could end badly for the both of us.
“Thank you, Wren. I owe you for this one,” she says quickly without my reply before ending the call. I sit on my bed for what feels like hours, dumbfounded and my body suddenly feeling heavy.
When the anxieties creep up into me, I rush into my bathroom, and I throw up. When I’m scared and anxious this happens. A lot more than I’d like to admit. When the retching doesn’t stop, both of the girls run into my bathroom. Kennedy holds my hair back while Scarlett rubs my back, not saying much. After I feel like it’s all out of me, I go to my sink and brush my teeth, the both of them still in my bathroom, looking concerned.
“I’m, uh, I’m going to the rink,” I say, when I turn around to them, my voice suddenly not sounding like my own.
Scarlett inches towards me.
“Wren, it’s past nine o’clock. I don’t think the one on campus is open,” she says.
I brush past her and go into my bedroom. They follow behind me.
“And not to mention you’ve been there all day. Take a break,” Kennedy suggests as I pack my duffel bag with my leotard and essentials.
“I’ll find one that’s open,” I bite out and I walk out of my room into the kitchen. They follow behind me again as I grab a couple bottles of water and I shove them into my bag, avoiding their eyes.
“Wren,” Scarlett says, carefully, shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t think this is a good idea. You need to take a breather. You just threw your stomach up. You were like this before regionals.”
“Yeah and look where that fucking got me. I didn’t take it seriously enough. I put being with Augustus over skating and I didn’t practice enough. I could have prevented that. If I fuck this one up, I’m over. I’m done,” I shout.
They both take a step back, neither one of them knowing what to say. Kennedy’s eyes soften as she looks at me. Scarlett looks irritated and a little disappointed. She’s had to put up with side of me for the longest time. She’s seen me after losing a comp as a kid, she’s seen me after winning and still needing to do better. Constantly trying to do my absolute best. To be flawless.
“Look,” I sigh, my voice quieter. “I’m sorry for shouting but I’m in a really difficult situation right now and I need to clear my head.”
“Then talk to us. That’s what we’re here for,” Kennedy whispers, her voice weighty with emotion. "You don't run away when things get hard. We don't do that."
I want to grab them both into a hug. I want to tell them everything. I want to tell them how it feels like I'm constantly being held down by a giant, cutting off my blood circulation. How I'm constantly hearing the wordsYou're not good enoughover and over.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. I can't,” I stammer as I slip out of the door.
CHAPTER 22
MILES
Since the night of the game, I’ve hardly seen Wren. We’ve been to the gym like usual and hanging out on campus but she’s not fully there. Even while we’re together, I do most of the taking while she nods and mm hmm’s. It’s like only a part of her is there. The part that was there in the beginning but without the sarcastic comments. Instead, I get concentrated looks and two-word answers. I thought we grew out of that. Even when I make my hilarious gym jokes, she just ignores them.
“Why did the cheese go to the gym?” I said once while I caught my breath, stood over her while she did sit ups.
“Why?” she asked with a bored expression, not even a waver in her voice even after doing fifty sit ups.
“Because he wanted tocheddara couple pounds,” I replied. She just blinked up at me, not even a crack of a smile on her face. I remember when these kinds of jokes would earn me a toothy grin and a kick in the stomach. Now, she doesn’t even care. Or even pretend to care. She stood up and looked at me.
