Kiss and Cry

I moaned as I bit into my oxtail curry roti from across the street. I sat with Julien and tried to reassure him as he angsted about his triple Axel. Ga-young and her mom were at another table eating big salads in Tupperware containers.

“I just can’t get the timing on my takeoff,” Julien said glumly.

“You will. Didn’t you grow four inches or something this year? Throws everything off. We all go through it.”

“Even you?” He looked at me hopefully.

“Absolutely! You’ll get it back.”

Honestly, I’d transitioned from junior to senior without my jumps being too affected. I could naturally spin so fast that my triples and quads had grown with me. My issue had been patience and focus. But so many skaters struggled, especially girls since their bodies changed even more.

“Thanks. It’s hard not to get down. I want to win so badly.”

I grinned. “Winning’s awesome. But it’s not everything.”

He rolled his eyes. “Says the guy who can’t lose these days.”

“Fair point.” I took another bite of my roti. “Mmm.”

Henry waited by the microwave, looking lost in his own thoughts as usual. When the machine dinged, he removed a glass container using a folded paper towel and headed to the one empty table. I said, “Hey, do you want to sit with us?” and pulled out the remaining chair. It just seemed wrong for Henry to eat alone.

He stopped, seeming to debate before joining us. His knee bumped mine under the table, and he jerked back, stirring his lunch, the fork clinking on the rectangular glass container. It looked like salmon with a ton of mixed veggies and a bit of wild rice. I couldn’t see any sauce. Did he even put salt on that?

I took another bite of my roti and mumbled, “Have you ever tried this? So good.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Are you having a cheat day?”

“I guess!” I shrugged. “I’ve got a month until the final. But I’m out of food at home. I really need to stock up. Ugh, I hate cooking and bringing my lunch.”

Julien was eating chicken and veggies. He said, “My mom fills up the freezer with these lunches for me.”

“Yeah, my mom used to make every one of my meals.” I shrugged, shaking off the tension that gripped me. I took another bite and imagined how pissed it would make her. “I’m pretty good most of the time, and I’ll be better closer to a competition. One cheat day won’t kill me.”

Henry made this little sound of…disagreement? Disgust?

I asked, “What?”

“So undisciplined,” he muttered under his breath.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but I still beat you at Skate Canada, didn’t I?” This got a glare from him, and Julien watched us warily. I added, “I pull it off when it counts,” and took a giant bite of oxtail. It was a little spicy, but I refused to cough.

He shook his head, eating his bland fish and vegetables and ignoring me. Look, he wasn’t wrong, but I knew what it was like to count every calorie obsessively, and fuck that. Before I could control it and put on a smile, anger flashed hot.

“Maybe I’m undisciplined, but at least I’m not boring AF. You know, if anyone actually wanted to fuck you, they’d have to take the giant stick out of your ass first.”

It was a dumb thing to say, and why was I thinking about Henry having sex??? In the sudden, suffocating silence of the lunchroom, Henry flushed with this weird little wince. It was more than just embarrassment or anger—the split second of hurt was unmistakable.

Ga-young’s mom said sternly, “What kind of talk is that?” Beside her, Ga-young gaped at me, fork frozen halfway to her mouth.

Julien muttered something in French, shaking his head, and Henry put down his fork, snapped the lid on his container, pushed back his chair, and stood.

“I’m sorry!” I blurted. “I don’t know why I said that.” I leapt to my feet. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sure lots of people want to—” Wait, nope, that wasn’t the direction to take this. “I’m sorry. Food is a touchy subject.”

Henry still left without a word. Not that I could blame him. I slumped back into my chair and picked at the rest of my lunch, the joy gone.

“That really wasn’t like you,” Ga-young said when her mom left to go to the bathroom.

“I know.”

“I mean, Henry hates your guts, and he was definitely judgy about your lunch, but I didn’t think you had a problem with him,” Julien said as he peeled a banana.

It shouldn’t have bothered me at all, but it did. It nagged at me all damn day.

Did he really hate me?

Yeah, we were competitors and the two top skaters in the world for four years now since the last Olympics. But he was giving me rides now. Surely he wasn’t that Canadianly polite.