Page 24

“What?”

He took a step away, and shoved his hand into his pocket, his body going loose. “The morning’s a loss. We might as well skip the afternoon too. They’re not going to throw us out just because we missed a day of prep.”

“And do what?”

“You know this city, right? Let’s go see something fun. Take the day.”

“My father—” I cut myself off. Cam’s gaze hardened too. He didn’t need to say anything, his eyes did his talking for him. “The team . . .” I tried again, but that excuse died too.

He shrugged. “Call it a mental health day. Do what you wanna do. What’s fun around here?”

“Fun?”

“You do know how to have fun,” he teased. “I’ve seen it. It’s a thing you are capable of.”

I huffed. “The last time we had fun it ended up all over the internet.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not do that again,” he laughed.

I wanted to take the day with him. But these training days were imperative to success. Missing a morning was bad enough. Then there was the whole “us being seen in public together.” And my father . . .

I wanted not to care about all of that. I wanted to be like Cam, standing there as though he didn’t give a damn what people thought. He loved who he was, and he didn’t pretend for anyone. I admired that. And I was beginning to realize I might hate who I was becoming.

Dance for you.

I’d heard him last night. I remembered. I’d never forget how he’d come when I’d called him. When I’d left him in Montreal months ago, I’d told him I’d always be there when he fell, but he’d been the one who’d caught me.

He sighed and shrugged, turning away. “Okay, you’re probably right. We’ll be seen, for sure. Maybe after the Games would be better.”

“No, I want to go out today.” It thrilled me to say it, to go against my father’s voice in my head telling me to focus, to never step out of line, to be exactly like him. My heart tripped in a good way. Yes, I wanted this. I’d never be in Sapporo with Camden again. We were here together now. I wanted to have fun. With him.

He brightened. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Let’s be spontaneous.”

“Alright.” His grin grew. “Wait, are you still drunk?”

“Yes, probably.”

He laughed. “So, where do we start?”

We were doing this. And I was going to enjoy it. Which meant shaking off the night’s mistake and the taste of it still in my mouth. “I need to buy a toothbrush.”

We started out at Nakajima Park. The cold air and bright sky brought me back into my body, and the walk down the snow-swept paths grounded me in the morning. Cam insisted on jumping in some of the deeper snow alongside the paths and frowned when I refused to do the same.

“Fun, remember?” he said.

A snowball smacked into my shoulder from behind.

I pretended not to notice, or care, then discreetly scooped a handful off a rail, made a ball out of sight in front of me, dropped, twisted, and flung it, smacking him in the thigh.

“Ow!” He laughed hard. “Damn. Not the legs, man, I gotta dance!”

We walked on, watched the locals skate on the frozen pond, and grabbed two coffees now that my stomach had settled.

Cam talked about his parents, how he called them every night. He talked about Saga, and the dance studio, and how well his friend was doing with the business, and how the dance studio was about more than just dance, it was about the people with lives and dreams and troubles. The studio was his community. We talked some about the skating teams, but the mood changed, and we both decided without voicing it to stay away from work topics.

“Where next?” Cam asked, once we’d exhausted the park and gotten cold enough that somewhere warm, out of the elements would be welcome.