“I’d love to watch, when you get it.”
“Yeah?” She smiles shyly.
“Definitely. And speaking of the camp, have you decided if you’re going to tell your parents you want to do the musical instead?”
“I think I will, yeah.” Her fingers curl around the edges of her protocol sheet. “Mom’s happy with how Hope and I skated, and Dad seemed excited when we texted him about our results. You said the best time to talk to them is when they’re in a good mood, right?”
I can still imagine the conversation I was going to have with Mom after I nailed my free program and secured my spot at Sectionals. That’s completely ruined now, but maybe Faith still has a chance. “That usually works for me, yep. What are you going to say?”
“I’m still figuring that out. I know they already paid for the camp, but there are skaters on the waitlist, so they can get their money back if I don’t go.”
I nod. “That’s good. Plus, it shows that you don’t want to waste their money.”
“Yeah. And I’ll be applying to private high schools next spring. Right now, all I have is skating and church youth group as activities to put on my application. If I did the musical, I bet I could get the sound designer to write me a letter of recommendation.”
“See? You’ve already figured a lot out. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.” I hold up both hands, crossing my middle and index fingers, then my ring fingers and pinkies for good measure.
Faith grins.
We say our goodbyes once we land. The tension comes back fast when it’s just Mom and me, plus Alex.
“Did you have a nice time with Faith and Hope?” Mom asks. Everything she says sounds cautious.
As Alex calls Myles to let him know we’ve made it down to the pickup area, all I can do is nod at Mom. There’s an invisible barrier that feels as thick as a wall between us.
A sporty red car parks at the curb. The passenger-side window rolls down, and I catch a glimpse of Myles as Alex helps Mom put our bags in the tiny trunk.
“Welcome home, Bean.” Myles smiles at me, but I can’t get myself to smile back. Mom and I settle into the back seat, Alex in the front. Myles leans over and gives him a quick kiss. It lasts less than a second, but it reminds me that both of them can freely be who they are. I’m still hiding in the dark.
“Thank you for picking us up,” Mom says as Myles merges onto the freeway that’ll take us north to San Francisco.
“No problem at all, ma’am. We have to go through the city to get home to Oakland. You’re along the way.”
I sit back in my seat as he continues talking with Alex and Mom. My muscles ache. It’s hard to even think. Soon, the smooth drawl of Myles’s voice lulls me to sleep.
I wake to Mom’s soft touch on my shoulder. Alex and Mom get our bags from the trunk as I rub my eyes from my spot on the sidewalk.
“Rest up this weekend.” Alex gives me a quick hug. “We’ll ease back into training and have you running your program again by midweek.”
The climb to the fourth floor takes forever. Alex’s words echo like a threat, even though I know he didn’t mean them like that.
I drag my feet in the hallway, eyes on the floor as I enter our apartment.
Back to training. More free-program run-throughs.
Mom and I leave our suitcases by the door, taking turns in the bathroom. This almost seems normal.
Except, there’s no talking as we get ready for bed.
“Good night.” Mom finally breaks the silence. Her voice drifts up to my top bunk where I’m curled into a ball, knees to my chest. “Sleep well.”
“Night,” I murmur, but sleep doesn’t come. My thoughts tilt and swirl like an off-center spin.
No skipping Regionals or asking for a new program. Definitely no coming out. My plan completely failed.
AUGUST
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mom and I make an unspoken pact over the weekend: We act like the competition never happened.
Even without talking about my performance, we exist in awkward silence. When Mom tries to talk to me, I answer in one or two words. Our eyes play tag. I steal glances at Mom when she’s distracted. If she looks up, my gaze skitters away.
I don’t even feel like texting Tamar or Hayden at first, even though both asked me how I skated at the competition.
I want to tell them the whole truth, but it feels like I’ve waited too long. I’ve known Tamar since we were little kids. What if she doesn’t believe me if I tell her I’m nonbinary? What if she thinks it’s weird?
Hayden is a different story, because I’ve been lying to him since the first day we met. I could barely look his way during skate-school yesterday. I even waited to put my name tag on until I’d skated to the far side of the ice.
I snapped at Mom. Bombed my free program. I don’t know how to tell Tamar, and I’m still lying to Hayden.
What a mess.
I stand alone in front of Mom’s office Wednesday morning, waiting for Mrs. Park. Mom kisses the top of my head quickly, then heads upstairs for an early meeting. She leaves me out front with Samuel promising to keep watch.
“Hello, Miss Ana-Marie!”
“Hi, Samuel.” The curb is nothing special, but I study it like I’m about to be quizzed.
“How do you like your new rink?”
“It’s fine.”
Neither of us speaks for a moment. A nearby streetlight turns from green to red. Bus brakes whistle.
“It takes time to settle,” Samuel says. “Especially when the reality is different from your expectations.”
My head jerks up. I wonder if Mom told him something, but Samuel’s gaze travels toward Market Street. He doesn’t look at me.
“That
