Page 50 of Off the Edge

The laugh fell out of me. Outside his shadow.

Like I’d spent nine months being carried around by Ren during the Meridian. Like I hadn’t dragged my body over that ice with a fractured hip. Like I hadn’t given everything I had, like I’d just been Ren’s arm candy. Like I wasn’t standing at the fucking Olympics on my own merit.

“I was never in his shadow,” I said coolly.

Daniel lifted his chin. “You don’t believe skating with him improved you?”

“Of course it improved me. Skating with anyone at his level improves you.”

“Would you say you improved him?” he asked, fast.

“Yes.”

The answer fell out of me without much thought.

Several reporters began asking questions at once.

“How?”

“In what way did you improve Hasegawa?”

“Do you think Hasegawa would agree with that?”

I laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “You’d have to ask him. We don’t talk much.”

The room erupted. Every phone came up. Fingers flew over screens, headlines being written.

I’d said too much. Not enough to expose anything, but enough to relight the damn fire. Navarro says Hasegawa doesn’t talk to him. Former partners no longer speaking. Olympic rivalry turns bitter. Navarro says he changed Hasegawa. My heart thumped in my neck, where it wasn’t supposed to be trying to choke me. Cool sweat clung to the back of my neck.

Daniel leaned forward. “Are you saying the two of you are no longer on friendly terms?”

“I’m saying we’re on different teams, so we don’t talk much.”

“But you spent time together in Sapporo earlier this week, correct?”

My heart stopped. Dead. The room shrank around me, squeezing.

Miles finally raised his hand. “Alright, time’s up.”

Daniel still watched me, my face and whatever it was doing. “Were you with Hasegawa outside the Village?”

“I know a lot of athletes.” My voice wobbled. My heart started up again, galloping now. “Sometimes we’re in the same places.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It’s all I’ve got,” I croaked.

Aiko raised her hand again, even though nobody was waiting to fire questions anymore. “Mr. Navarro, given the questions surrounding your conduct, do you feel you deserve to be at these Games?”

That question hit harder than all the others. Maybe because she’d asked it so calmly, like it had a genuine place here.

Athletes didn’t get here by mistake. Except maybe me. The school dropout. The messy past. The late skater. The tattooed YouTube disaster who got famous for collapsing instead of winning. The man Ren could fuck but couldn’t be seen with. It hit harder because I’d already taken a beating. I was on the back foot, reeling, and Aiko came at me with that pointed question, like a parting blow. A right fucking hook.

“Wow,” I said, smiling too hard. A damn lump found its way into my throat. This was a fucking ambush, and I’d already just had my heart ripped out. I was falling while standing still. No smiles now. I didn’t have any left.

Aiko’s expression remained polite. “I meant, in terms of whether these distractions⁠—”

“No, I heard what you said, Aiko.”