We run back to where we came from. Headed for Sulli.
10
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
The Olympic Village is outfitted with a three-story gym, equipped with the latest and greatest exercise equipment. Epic, for fucking sure. But it’s not the gym of my dreams. That spot will always be claimed by Studio 9.
The third floor is the quietest. And I’ve secluded myself in a corner away from the other athletes. Fit with a weight bench, stair climber, and spin bike.
None of which are really being used at the moment.
Luna sits backwards on the bike. I’m idle on the stair climber, caging breath and watching Beckett and Maximoff on the weight bench.
They’re reading the letter.
My letter that I wrote in gel pen. The one I plan to give to Banks and Akara later today. Or tomorrow, depending on unpredictable fucking factors. Like maybe I’ll faint.
Maybe I’ll lose the letter and get laryngitis.
Who knows?!
I’m not freaking out. I’m not freaking out. Obviously, I’m really, really freaking the fuck out. I chew the corner of my lip. When Moffy and Beckett showed up, I wanted to tell them the truth. I couldn’t hold it in, and I figured this could be a test.
See if the letter is any fucking good.
“Are you going to say anything?” I ask Beckett, my best friend, and Moffy, who’s the closest thing I have to a big brother.
“Oh wow!” Ripley says in his itty-bitty baby voice. His blue eyes grow big and astonished. He’s climbed up beside Moffy and acts like he’s reading the letter with his dad.
At a year and a half, he’s the cutest fucking baby.
Will mine be that cute? Or will mine come out looking like a wrinkly old lady or dude?
“This is Auntie Sulli’s letter, little guy. Be careful with it,” Moffy tells his son as he tries to touch the paper.
Ripley gasps. “Awe Sow-wee?” His big blue eyes meet mine. He gasps again, then babbles. My heart swells. To Luna, he says, “Awe Loo-nee?”
Luna smiles.
“Yeah, it’s mine, little dude,” I tell him. “You want to bring it to me?”
Moffy lets Ripley hold the letter. The baby treats the paper like the Mona Lisa. Gingerly touching the edges before sliding off the weight bench.
Then he accidentally drops it. “Oh no! Oh no!” Ripley says, so cute that I catch Beckett, Luna, and Maximoff’s smile. But my pulse is pounding not knowing what Beckett or Moffy think.
The baby squats, collects the letter, then rushes to me. “Awe Sow-wee.”
“Thanks, Ripley.”
He giggles, his smile dimpling his soft, fair cheeks with a rosy hue. He acts like he might want a hug, but he shuffles timidly back. Shy. Quickly, he races to his dad and climbs up on the weight bench. He hides behind Maximoff’s arm.
Ripley will squish his stuffed animals and parents to fucking death, but with most everyone else, he likes his distance. Like he knows the world is cruel already.
Being a parent, dealing with the complexities of watching a tiny being grow up, trying to guide them into thoughtful, kind humans amid the ugly spotlight of the world—am I really ready for that?
I have to be.
Moffy lifts his gaze to me. Here it goes. His thoughts. His wisdom. “Are you okay?”
It nearly breaks me. His empathy. “Yeah…I think…I think so.” I hope so. “I just need to tell Kits and Banks and then go from there.”
Beckett lets out a long breath. “I think I’m in shock.”
“Oh hey, that’s where I’ve been,” I tell him. “I get it.”
He tries to give me an encouraging smile. “The letter is really good.”
“Yeah?” I reread my brief words. “You think they’ll like it?”
“They better,” Moffy says toughly, protectively.
“Agreed,” Beckett chimes in.
“Or else they’ll have colossal hell to pay from this section of your fan club.” Maximoff gestures to the three of them. “Avengers Assemble.”
Luna flashes a Spock hand.
Beckett smiles a little more, but a sadness lies behind his yellow-green eyes that I didn’t expect.
“What’s wrong, Beckett?”
“I just didn’t think it’d happen this fast. You, having a family like Jane and Moffy.”
“Hey, you’re not losing me,” I remind him. “You can’t. We’re best friends for fucking ever. BFFFE’s.”
Luna looks a little downtrodden. More than I realized. Is she scared that I’ll grow out of our friendship too?
Beckett just nods.
Having a baby won’t catapult me out of Beckett and Luna’s friendship circle, right? We’ll all stay just as close? We can still eavesdrop on Maximoff and Jane when they’re doing their couples thing at the penthouse, and we can stay up late eating s’mores and gummy worms.
Nothing will change between us.
Everything will change.
Am I making a mistake?
“SULLI!” Frankie shouts across the third floor.
Beckett and Maximoff turn their heads. We all see the platinum-blonde swimmer waving dramatically near the rowing machines.
Athletes start to gawk in my direction. Some even pull down their headphones.
Ugh fuck.
I want to shrink into myself or hide behind my bodyguard. But Kits and Banks aren’t here, and I barely know my temp guard Keagan. Not well enough to use him as a human shield.
Frankie calls out to me, “Pump that iron, superstar!”
“Get it, girl!” I shout back our encouragements, but with less fucking enthusiasm and more holy shit tension in my face. Feels like everyone is staring. A Canadian athlete snaps photos of me and my cousins from his weight bench.
He captures Beckett’s disgruntled face and black leather jacket coolness. I avoid staring into the lens of his camera phone.
Ignore.
Ignore.
I try to block it all out like Maximoff and Jane are always able to do. “That’s Frankie,” I tell them.
No one is shocked.
Not only have I talked about Frankie a ton, but she’s been deemed the “biggest threat” to my chance at gold. Press won’t shut up about it. But I’d rather them talk about that swim rivalry than the flagbearer drama.
Maximoff cracks a couple knuckles, then focuses back on me. “You want to tell Jane about you-know-what?”
Jane’s absence at the gym is felt, but it’s not like I disinvited her. She’s been busy shopping for Olympic souvenirs with the girl squad today.
“Not particularly,” I admit, feeling like shit though. I should want to embrace Jane. “I just don’t want to be compared to Jane.”
Beckett’s eyes soften. “You won’t be compared to my sister. At least not by me.”
“She’s pregnant, though, Beckett.”
“Isn’t that a bigger reason to see her?” Maximoff asks with furrowed brows. “Talk to her?”
“She was trying to have a baby, Moffy. And everyone was so happy for Jane. No one’s going to be that happy for me—and I just…” I intake a breath. “I don’t want to see a very pregnant Jane right now.” I withhold my prickly feelings towards her husband. I wouldn’t put that on Jane.