Ultimately, it didn’t matter who had discovered Heath’s secrets, or how, or when. He still hadn’t chosen to confide in me. And now I’d lost him and the gold, in the same damn day.
No, not lost him. Thrown him away.
“It’s not supposed to feel like this, is it?” I wasn’t sure whether I was talking about skating, or the Olympics, or my relationship with Heath. “It’s not supposed to hurt this much.”
“You’re a skater,” Ellis quipped. “You love pain.” He shifted to face me, suddenly serious. “You want my advice?”
“Not especially.”
“Too bad, you’re getting it.” He laid his hand over mine. “Don’t letHeath disappear on you again. Not without at least trying to work things out. You two are a total disaster, but anyone can see how crazy you are about each other.”
“Thanks, Ellis. That was almost sweet.”
He turned away. Moment over. “Oh no, I meantliterally crazy.You and Heath Rocha deserve each other. Maybe at your wedding you can rock matching straitjackets.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed.
“Time to mix and mingle,” Ellis announced. He offered me his arm, like he had all those years ago at Sheila Lin’s Red, White, and Gold Party.
“I’ll see you in there,” I said.
I stayed on the patio alone for a while, savoring the fresh air on my skin. Much as I hated to admit it, Ellis was right: Heath and I drove each other crazy sometimes, but I hated to imagine any version of my future that didn’t somehow include him. I couldn’t let him go without at least telling him so.
Back inside, the party had settled into a mellower rhythm, though there were still plenty of people entwined on the furniture scattered around the common area. Including Garrett.
He was fully horizontal on one of the sofas, having a feverish makeout session with Scott Stanton, a men’s singles skater who’d been on the Stars on Ice tour with us—and had seemed remarkably indifferent to the gaggles of female fans who crowded around him after every show. I still felt awful about blurting out Garrett’s secret earlier, but it looked as if the closet door was blown off the hinges now. Good for him.
When I reached my room, I eased open the door as silently as possible, in case Heath was sleeping. The lights were out, but he’d left the window shades open, so I could just make out the shape of him under the comforter. The spot where I’d flung the flowers was bare; Heath must have cleaned them up. He’d picked up my medal and ring too, placing them on the nightstand.
I was trying to decide between getting into my own bed or breaking the ice by sliding under the covers with him when I heard them.
Heath was in bed all right. But he wasn’t alone.
A jerky, low-resolution cellphone video taken by another athlete at the Olympic Village party shows Katarina Shaw rushing past.
Garrett Lin:Kat was upset. Who wouldn’t be?
Heath Rocha follows, half-dressed, trying to pull his shirt on as he hurries after her. A few steps behind him comes Bella Lin, also frantically tugging her clothing back into place.
Heath says something to Katarina, inaudible on the recording, and she screams at him.
Ellis Dean:She lost hershit.She threw a freaking chair at his head.
Garrett Lin:No, Kat did not throw a chair.
A dark object blurs past, colliding with Heath. In the background, a voice says, “Ohshit!”
Garrett Lin:It was a stool. A small one. At least I think so. I was a little…distracted.
Ellis Dean:I stayed out of the way. I’d learned my lesson at the gala.
Katarina and Heath stand in the middle of the common area, shouting at each other. With the buzz of other voices and music in the background, their words are unintelligible, but they appear on the verge of coming to blows.
Jane Currer:I’m not aware of any incident, but violence or other inappropriate behavior between Team USA athletes would of course be dealt with swiftly.
Katarina turns on Bella. Heath steps between them—which seems to enragebothwomen.
Garrett Lin:I wish I could say that was totally unlike my sister. But I know her too well. On the ice or off, she’d do anything to win.
