Page 35

The teams gathered in their little bubbles of color, waiting to be called up the steps. USA was ahead of us, Team GB behind.

Ren was there. Obviously. Close enough to turn and talk to. Or he had been at the start, but he’d moved to the back of his group, so I’d have to talk over them to get to him, which we both knew I wasn’t going to do.

I glanced over a few times, prepared to smile and nod. Just two skaters who knew each other on this amazing day of our lives.

He didn’t meet my gaze. Didn’t acknowledge me at all. I did not exist.

It didn’t make any sense. He’d gone cold. Colder now than when we were strangers. What the fuck had I done to go from “we’re into this” to “don’t look at me?” It pissed me off, because it hurt. Again. Why was he being like this? Why didn’t he just tell me what I’d done wrong or say he didn’t want this instead of fucking icing me out? Hadn’t we just talked about feelings, about what we’d missed, about us? Was that what this was about? Did he regret everything?

Zoe hooked her arm with mine. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah.” I tucked her close, seeking some warmth. “Just zoned out for a second.”

“You’re not going to say hi to Hasegawa?” She glanced behind us. I did not.

“No. We don’t talk.” I tried to smile and say it casually. If she asked, the tremor in my voice was just nerves.

“At all?”

I faced the open doors ahead and listened to the roaring crowd. “Nope.”

The two flag bearers were picking up the huge Canadian flags, ready to emerge into the stadium ahead of us. The coaches had formed up. My heart kicked.

“Well, he can’t be all ice,” she said. I caught her eye, and she nodded behind me, toward Team GB. “He’s holding a stuffed toy.”

Now I had to look at Ren, and I had to do it fast. We were next out.

Ren spoke with Tamsyn beside him. In his hand, I spotted the little plushie flying squirrel I’d bought him.

He’d brought the squirrel!

I grinned. “Damn.”

“It’s cute,” Zoe said. “The ice prince isn’t all ice. Someone loves him.”

Other athletes carried personal items too. We were allowed to take special or sentimental items with us into the opening ceremony. I hadn’t even considered bringing the blue hat. The blue would have clashed with my Canadian colors anyway, but he’d thought it through, and of everything he could have brought, he’d chosen the squirrel I’d bought him.

Holy shit. That man was a goddamn mystery to me. How was he so damn cold in person, but then brought the plushie like it was the most precious thing in his life right now?

I was taking that as a good sign. A secret sign between us. Nobody else knew what that fluffy squirrel meant. Just him and me.

Canada was called out. The flags went up. We climbed the steps together and emerged into a tidal wave of light and sound. The seventy-thousand-strong crowd roared. Flags waved. Color exploded all around us. My breath hitched, heart stuck in my throat, and we moved, waving, smiling, and so fucking alive. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Oh my god. It was real, I was here.

Billions of people around the world watched us stand for Canada. And they saw me—high school dropout, directionless bad boy. They didn’t know me, not yet. My skating in two days would do the talking for me. But right now, it was something to be here, to wear the Canadian colors, a real dream come true.

“Holy shit . . .” I muttered, and hoped a lip reader on the TV somewhere didn’t pick it up.

“I know, right,” Zoe grinned and waved, tears in her eyes too.

FIFTEEN

REN

Seventy to eighty thousand people, all on their feet, waving flags, cheering. You’d have to be cold not to feel it in your entire body, heart and mind too. And I did feel it. I let it wash over me as we walked into the light. This was my moment, my achievement. My father wasn’t beside me, but my team were.

I waved to the crowd and squeezed the squirrel toy I’d brought out with me. I couldn’t text Cam, or speak with him, or do anything about the distance I’d been forced to create, but I could show him this one small thing, so he knew not all was lost. Perhaps it was cruel, giving him false hope. But he’d be hurting. I’d ghosted him after everything he’d done for me. I’d told him I wanted more, then slammed the door in his face. It was brutal and wrong. And necessary.

The rest of the opening ceremony continued and all of the roughly three thousand or so athletes collected on the infield, in a huge open-air gathering to watch the cultural displays, speeches, and artistic Japanese performances. We were free to mingle, take selfies, meet others, trade pins, and even dance when the music played. TV cameras would be cutting to us periodically. We’d become part of the spectacle, but only loosely and unscripted now.