“The package is transferable,” Evelyn replied. “And the training weekend could help.”
Dani sat beside me rather than across from me. Her shoulder touched mine. Publicly, the contact meant nothing. My body disagreed. Evelyn asked whether Dani was joining the challenge with anyone.
“No,” Dani said.
“She is my coach,” I added.
The clarification came too quickly.
Evelyn looked between us. “Of course.”
Then she wished me luck and left with Vanessa. I watched them approach the registration table. Dani broke the silence.
“You want to beat them.”
“I do not.”
“You watched them walk away like you were calculating wind resistance.”
“I dislike losing to people who have not yet competed.”
Dani smiled, then looked toward the challenge display. The prize money would replenish what Dani had to use for the certification deposit and cover much of the remaining tuition. The coaching weekend would solve several of my training access problems. We each had something the other needed. The idea arrived fully formed and unacceptable.
“No,” I said.
Dani’s mouth opened. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was about to praise the pancakes.” She moved her fork toward my plate. “You were thinking about the challenge too.”
“We are not a couple.”
“Very observant.”
“We would need to pretend.”
“Also observant.”
“That would be dishonest.”
“Strategically fictional.”
I pulled the challenge page closer. “There are rules.”
“There are always rules with you.”
I opened the challenge page on my phone. Couples needed to demonstrate an established romantic relationship. Audience scoring would reward chemistry, teamwork, and authenticity.Authenticityseemed hostile. Dani read over my shoulder.
“We would be terrible at this.”
“Potentially.”
“You hate public affection.”
“You avoid emotional disclosure.”
“See? Balanced.”
