Kiss and Cry

I couldn’t tell her because I hadn’t fully acknowledged to myself how Theodore sobbing in my arms in the gray drizzle had somehow broken me. Or had at least cracked the surface, and now I was…leaking. I thought about him constantly. Not about how to beat him or how annoying he was and how much I hated him.

No. I thought about him stirring almonds and scratching behind Esmeralda’s ears. Looking up new recipes he thought I’d like and beaming at me with that beautiful smile that crinkled his eyes.

I couldn’t tell her I was still as stupid and pathetic as I’d been in Vancouver when I’d let myself believe I was understood. Wanted, even. She’d give me self-talk exercises and tell me I was harder on myself than even the Russian judges, and I’d be expected to find it humorous.

“I realize it’s easier said than done, but can you put on your mental blinders over the holidays and concentrate on the choices and actions that are in your control? Can you stop obsessing over Theo Sullivan?”

“Absolutely.”

Another lie.

“Take off your shirt.”

It was absolutely ridiculous that my heart thumped at those words. Theodore knew I had a muscle strain, and after our dinner of leftover curry and freshly steamed broccoli, he’d gone up to his condo and returned with a blue bead ice pack that had a soft fabric covering on one side.

“I have ice packs,” I said.

With a low riiip, he pulled apart the black fabric straps. “But this one stays on really well. Here.” He beckoned me closer.

I stood at the sink rinsing Esmeralda’s dish. I’d given her too much food again, but only a bit. “I’m fine.”

Rolling his eyes, Theodore crossed to me, his socked feet silent. Before I could object, my hands still full with the dish and sponge, he lifted the hem of my T-shirt. I made a sound that could have been called a squeak.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You can keep it on.” He slipped his hands around my ribs, his breath warm on the back of my neck. The cold pack touched my back, and I gasped softly. He shifted it, asking, “Is that the right place?” His right hand was splayed on my stomach, and I shivered.

“A little to the left,” I whispered. “There.”

Standing close to me, he tightened the straps around my stomach, sealing the Velcro. “Okay?”

I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. But I managed, “Cold.”

His laugh tickled my ear. “That’s the whole idea. You’re doing cold-hot, right? I have a brilliant idea for the hot part.”

My belly somersaulted. Did I want to know?

Before long, I followed Theodore out of the changing room and across the tile pool deck to the condo’s hot tub. We had the entire area to ourselves, which perhaps wasn’t surprising for later on a weeknight. There were cold puddles of water on the tile from earlier users.

“I was like, you can’t be serious. You want me to skate to Phantom and wear a bodysuit with the white mask design over half of me diagonally? What is this, the eighties?” Theodore scoffed as he tossed his towel over a hook on the wall and continued on to the shower in the corner. His towel had barely caught, and it slipped to the floor.

Picking up his towel, I hung it properly before doing the same with mine. Nerves skittered across my bare skin. I’d actually never used the condo’s pool facilities, and my dark surf-style bathing shorts were a few years old and felt tight over my glutes.

But Theodore had me beat in the tightness department. He turned on the shower, waving his hand through the stream of water before stepping under it.

“Why not just do Cats and make me wear a full face of whiskers makeup? Sure, I was still a junior, but it was beyond tacky. It’s like, there are other musicals in the world.”

Water ran down his body as he turned under the shower, the short bathing suit that looked like skimpy red boxer briefs clinging to his backside so tightly they could have been painted on. I’d been pointedly ignoring the bulge in the front of his shorts, and I ripped my gaze away as he faced me, still talking. I took my turn under the shower as he pressed the big red button that switched on the hot tub.

“Well?” He climbed down into the tub and watched me expectantly. “Have you seen it?” He hadn’t sat yet, the water swirling around his lean thighs.

Whatever it was, I probably hadn’t, so I shook my head.

“Oh my God, it’s seriously horrible but hilarious. We should watch it one night. Esmeralda will love it.”

I said, “Okay,” wondering why the idea of watching a movie or TV show or whatever it was he was talking about didn’t seem like a bad idea. It should have. It was a terrible idea. It was one thing to share coaches. I shouldn’t have been spending my evenings with Theodore.