Page 50 of About to Fall

“What? It's a compliment. His skating's better now. Less in his head.” Adrian took a sip of his beer. “Miller's good for him.”

“Thank you for your unsolicited analysis of my career,” Théo snapped. I had never seen anyone get a rise out of him like this—Théo was usually unflappable, the kind of person who could absorb a bad score and shrug it off before the cameras found him. But Adrian had a gift for finding people's buttons and pressing every single one.

“Any time.”

“How's your component score this season, Zhao? Still struggling with interpretation?”

“My interpretation is fine.”

“The judges seem to disagree.”

“The judges are 60 year olds who think Bolero is cutting edge.”

“Maybe if you spent less time on your hair and more time on your artistry—”

“Maybe if you spent less time choreographing with a calculator—”

“Okay!” I said, louder than I intended. Both of them looked at me. Sabrina looked at me. The couple at the next table looked at me. “Can we please just—”

“Let me guess,” Adrian said, leaning back. “Change the subject. Smooth it over. Find the diplomatic middle ground.”

Sabrina picked up a chopstick and pointed it at Adrian like a dagger. “Adrian, I invited you to dinner because I wanted to spend time with all my friends. I love everyone at this table but I swear to God, I will use this chopstick in ways the restaurant did not intend.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender and went back to slurping the rest of his broth. Théo stabbed at the rest of his noodles in equal silence.

Adrian was in rare form tonight and I couldn't figure out why. He was always a little combative but this was something else. Every comment aimed at Théo with a precision that felt less like casual antagonism and more like a man with something to prove. What was his problem?

I swallowed my annoyance. “I think we should order dessert.”

“They have the jiggly cheesecake,” Sabrina seized on it. Théo nodded. Adrian nodded. The crisis passed.

We ordered two slices of Japanese cheesecake to share and Adrian excused himself to use the restroom. He came back smelling faintly of his vape and slid back into the booth like he hadn't just spent the last hour being the most difficult person at the table.

The cheesecake was fluffy and jiggly and not as sweet as traditional cheesecake—lighter, more delicate. Even Adrian slowed down enough to appreciate it.

When Sabrina flagged the waiter for the bill, he smiled and told us it had already been taken care of.

“By who?” Sabrina asked.

The waiter gestured at Adrian.

“The whole table?” Théo said, something unreadable crossing his face.

“Don't make it weird.” Adrian was scrolling through his phone, not looking at any of us. “The ramen was good. Consider it a thank you for the dinner invite.”

Sabrina looked genuinely touched.

“Thank you,” I said quietly and meant it in a way that had very little to do with dinner.

Adrian glanced up. Something flickered in his eyes—brief, warm, gone before anyone else could catch it.

“My pleasure, Nicky.”

◆◆◆

“I'm going to call it a night,” I said in the hotel lobby.

Sabrina hugged me—tight, brief, the kind of hug that communicated I know that was hard and I'm proud of you.