Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“I’m confused. Why?”
“Because I don’t have…” My voice cracks. “They drained…”
My phone rings with his request to make this conversation a video call and I oblige.
When his face appears on screen, I see that he’s dressed in a suit and sitting in a well-lit office.
“You landed the Gatorade sponsorship, didn’t you?” I ask. “I knew you would. How much are they paying you?”
“I don’t want to talk about me. Why are you crying?”
I try to hold back the tears, but they fall anyway.
“They drained everything from my account,” I say. “The money that my mom left for me, everything I was planning to use to go to that program and move out after? It’s gone, all except three hundred dollars.”
His face pales.
He looks as stunned as I feel.
“It’s like they don’t even see how messed up it is, and…” My voice trails off as Elaine walks inside the garage. She moves to the driver’s side and taps on the window.
“Hold on a second, okay?” I set aside the phone and roll down the window. “Yeah?”
“Why are you out here crying instead of eating with the rest of us?”
I don’t answer.
“If it’s about our discussion earlier, you need to suck it up instead of acting like it’s the end of the world.” She has the audacity to hand me a Kleenex.
I let her offensive offer linger in the air.
“Your father and I have paid for all your costumes, transportation, and events for years, and it’s not fair for you to keep every dime of your sponsorship money , all while sitting on twenty thousand dollars. It’s money that you could’ve offered to use to pay us back a long time ago.”
“My mother left that fucking money to me. Not you, you insufferable bitch.”
“Careful.” She tosses the Kleenex into my lap. “Don’t ever let your emotions get in the way of what needs to be done. You have some pretty intense training ahead for the Olympics, and you need to use all of your energy for that.”
“I hate you, Elaine,” I say. “I hate you so fucking much.”
“Yes, well, that’s your prerogative.” She shrugs. “Be ready at sunrise so I can take you shopping to get a sweater for your next Skater’s Digest interview.”
“I don’t want your help ever again.”
“Sounds even better.” She walks away, and it takes everything in me not to jump out and punch her to near-death like we’re in an octagon.
I pick up my phone and see a red-faced Travis.
His jaw is clenched and he’s shaking his head.
“Why hasn’t your dad stepped in and said anything about this shit?” he asks.
“Because he can’t see it,” I say. “He’s a shell of himself. You know that.”
“How much is the tuition?”
“I don’t want to think about it.” I wipe my face. “Can you do me a favor, though?”
He looks reluctant to change the subject, but he nods.
“The director of the school sent me an email about the payment and I need to tell her that I don’t have it.” I pause. “Can you log in to my email and handle that message for me? I’ll call her personally this weekend, but I don’t want them to hold my spot…I’ll text you the password, just tell me when you’ve done it.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but I don’t let him say a word. I don’t want to hurt anymore.
“Tell me the good news about landing that sponsorship, please…”
ACT NINE & A HALF
BACK THEN
TRAVIS
Hours later
Tacoma, Washington
I’ve seen Tatiana cry before, but never like this.
She’s lying on my chest, trying to tell me she’s fine, but the sobs wracking her body every few minutes say otherwise.
“I told you not to come here,” she says. “You shouldn’t have come…”
I rub my hand against her back, letting her tears soak my shirt as she speaks.
The moment she said, “I don’t want to live anymore,” I jumped into my car and made the drive.
“I can’t fathom being a figure skater past the date I told you about,” she says. “Even when I was in pairs, this was never my true dream for the long-term. You know?”
“You’ve told me…”
“Will we still have dinner together in Sochi?” she asks. “I mean, if you’re able to spend some time away from Penelope, I would love to.”
“I’m not going to Sochi anymore.”
“Huh?” She sat up. “Why not?”
“I can’t afford it.”
She furrows her brow. “Gatorade just signed you to a deal and agreed to give you a five-thousand-dollar bonus upfront.”
“They did,” I say. “But a plane ticket to Sochi costs three thousand.”
“So? You bought that months ago.”
“I’m getting a refund.” I cup her face in my hands. “Your tuition is eight thousand, so I’ll use my money for that.”
“What?” She shook her head. “No, no, no. Travis, don’t—”
“Don’t what?”
“Waste your hard-earned money on me.”
“It’s not a waste,” I say. “You worked your ass off to get into that program and you deserve to go. You also deserve to get an apartment away from your terrible ass family, so I’ll help you with that once you get back to the states.”