She trailed off, twisting her fingers together. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her so unsure of herself. I have to admit I enjoyed it.
“Some of the girls were going to get ready together in my suite,” she said. “You’re welcome to join us. I mean, only if you want.”
Like most things with Bella Lin, the invitation might have been an olive branch—or it might have been a trap, ready to bite the second I let my guard down.
I decided to take my chances. I could bite too.
“What time?” I asked.
—
I heard the noise from halfway down the hall—overlapping voices, girlish giggling, and the grooving bass of a Beyoncé song.
I stopped outside the door, clutching my makeup case against my abdomen. For a moment, I considered fleeing. I didn’t know what was behind Bella’s sudden friendly overture. But I knew if I backed down now, she’d win. Again.
The door was propped on the swing bar. I arranged my face into a pleasant expression before pushing it open the rest of the way.
“Kat!” Bella broke into what I hoped was a genuine smile. “Come on in.”
As Garrett’s partner, my days of staying in shabby budget hotel rooms were long gone. Still, I couldn’t help comparing my standard room to the Lins’ deluxe suite, with its white-shuttered picture windows providing unobstructed views of the sun dipping into the Pacific.
Everyone had gathered in the sitting area. Josie Hayworth was squeezing a cotton candy pink Lancôme Juicy Tube onto her pursed lips. She and Ellis hadn’t been invited to perform, but no doubt her senator father was on the guest list, which meant they got to enjoy the free food and open bar with none of the pressure.
The other three—Amber, Chelsea, and Francesca, who went by Frannie—I knew only in passing. I’d made myself scarce around the Academy, dead set on avoiding Bella and Heath or anything else that might distract from my goals. The girls were all young up-and-comers, recently qualified for the senior level. Their entire futures ahead ofthem—though I knew, after witnessing several years of churn, most of them wouldn’t make it to next season.
I perched on an overstuffed ottoman and started applying my makeup, letting their chatter wash over me. They traded tips on the perfect French manicure, talked about the new Harry Potter movie, and harmonized to “Naughty Girl,” Frannie hamming it up with a can of glitter hairspray as a microphone.
Was this what normal young women did on a Saturday night? I was only twenty-two, and I felt unspeakably ancient. I had nothing to add to the conversation, no interests outside of skating. It was easier for me to talk to a reporter for a television segment broadcast to millions than to make simple small talk with people my own age.
For the most part, Bella stayed quiet too, concentrating on creating perfect wings of black eyeliner extending all the way to her temples. I assumed she and Heath were performing their free dance program, but she seemed to be going for a more dramatic look than she’d worn for the Grand Prix series.
As I patted on a final layer of setting powder, Bella glanced over. “What are you going to do with your hair?”
“I don’t know.” So far that season, I’d gone the simple route: half up to keep it out of my face, secured with a hair clip covered in crystals that matched my dress.
“Want me to braid it for you?” she asked.
When I first started skating with Garrett, Bella had done my hair before almost every competition. Those were some of my favorite memories, sitting on the floors of hotel rooms from Spokane to St. Petersburg while Bella twisted and pinned with quick, expert fingers.
“Sure,” I said.
She motioned for me to take a seat in front of her, leaning back against the sofa. That put me right in the middle of the group, my knees hitting the metal coffee-table legs. Bella ran her hands through my hair, brushing out the tangles, and a warm tingling sensation spread down my spine. I’d missed this. I’d missed her.
Someone swapped the Beyoncé CD for Madonna’sConfessions on a Dance Floor,and soon the talk turned to the inevitable: cute boys.
Frannie had a crush on a South Korean pairs skater and wasstrategizing how to approach him when they were both in the same city for the Four Continents competition.
“Show us a picture,” Josie demanded.
Frannie produced her clamshell phone. The others gathered round.
“Oh my god, he’sgorgeous,” Amber squealed.
Chelsea squinted at the screen. “Kind of looks like a younger Garrett Lin.”
“Hedoes,” Frannie sighed.
“First of all, not all Asian people look alike,” Bella said. Frannie started to apologize, but Bella cut her off. “And could youpleaserefrain from lusting after my brother in my presence?”
