The Favorites: A Novel(16)
“Wake-up is at five forty-five,” she told me as I struggled to keep up with her quick pace down the corridor. “Breakfast at six. Training starts at seven.”
The Academy’s housing seemed more like a luxury resort than an athletic training center. We each had our own private rooms, and the shared bathrooms boasted steam showers, plush linens, and a Sephora’s worth of beauty products generously provided by Sheila’s brand partners.
“All free for everyone to use,” Josie informed me with a pointed sniff. “In case you want to…freshen up.”
It was abundantly clear she thought I didn’t deserve to be there. As if her opinion mattered. The only gold Josephine Hayworth would ever wear around her neck was that gaudy cross her rich daddy had bought her.
Soon enough I’d show her—and everyone else—exactly what I deserved.
Chapter 12
Our first night in California, I was more exhausted than I’d ever been before in my life.
And I couldn’t fall asleep.
It wasn’t only Heath’s absence that kept me up. The dorm rooms were well-appointed, but they were also stark, modern boxes, all blinding white walls and sharp angles. Even with my eyes closed, the space felt too bright.
I tossed and turned for hours, tangling the Egyptian cotton sheets—also pure white—around my legs. Los Angeles sounded different too: the call of car horns on the freeway, the constant drone of the air-conditioning, the distant yelps of what I would later learn were coyotes roaming the city’s canyons.
So I was already on edge when, sometime after midnight, a sudden tapping at the window startled me right out of bed.
From outside my window—my second-floor window—Heath smiled and waved.
“Let me in,” he whispered.
I tugged the sash open. Heath was balanced on the sill, his grip on a slender drainpipe the only thing between him and a bone-crushing fall to the concrete below.
“What are you doing? If someone catches you here—”
“You want me to leave?” Heath gave me a mischievous grin and let go with one hand. My heart lurched into my throat.
“Not that way! Get in here before you break your neck.”
He scaled the windowsill, landing softly in the narrow space between the twin bed and the minimalist white dresser. I shut the window against the sultry night air and drew the shade.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I couldn’t fall asleep.”
“Me either.”
He wound his arms around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. I melted into him, and we stumbled back until my legs hit the edge of the mattress.
“If you’re going to stay,” I said, “we have to sleep.”
He kissed my neck and slid his hand under the waistband of my pajama pants.
“Actually sleep,” I clarified.
“Okay, Katarina.” His freshly shaved face was smooth against my throat. “We’ll sleep.”
I lay down on the narrow bed, back pressed against the wall. Heath climbed in facing me and pulled the covers over us both. He ran his fingers through my clean hair and inhaled.
I had freshened up with the free products in the bathroom—though I’d waited until Josie left, so she wouldn’t have the satisfaction of knowing I took her suggestion. They all smelled sweet and expensive, like confections at a fancy bakery. My skin had never been so soft.
Heath smelled the same as always: generic 2-in-1 shampoo and woodsy aftershave. My father was the one who taught him to shave, and Heath still used the same brand.
Los Angeles was the farthest I’d ever been from home. Part of me still couldn’t believe we were really there. It all felt too good to be true, like if I was to drift off, I’d wake up in my bed back in Illinois, Lee pounding on the door.
Maybe that’s why, even with Heath beside me, I couldn’t rest that night. Sometime around two in the morning, I gave up and broke my own rule, rousing him with my teeth on his earlobe and my nails on his back.
Afterward, I finally managed a few hours of fitful sleep. When my alarm went off at 5:45 sharp, Heath was already gone.
Jane Currer: I never understood what all the fuss was about with the Lin Ice Academy. It was just a gussied-up ice rink.
Kirk Lockwood: It was so much more than an ice rink. The Academy is Sheila’s legacy.
Francesca Gaskell, a friendly-looking freckled blonde who still seems girlish despite being in her mid-thirties, sits in a glass greenhouse filled with blooming winter roses.
Francesca Gaskell (Former Ice Dancer): When I was a little girl, I dreamed of becoming a Lin Academy skater one day.
Garrett Lin: I realize how lucky my sister and I were. We were tremendously privileged.
A video of fifteen-year-old Bella and Garrett training alone at the Lin Ice Academy.
Garrett Lin: We were also under a tremendous amount of pressure.
Garrett stumbles. Bella reaches for him, and they both hit the ice.
Garrett Lin: Everyone was looking to us—to be examples, to set the standard.
Kirk Lockwood: Before the twins were even born, the press referred to them as the “Lin Dynasty,” which was…well, less than culturally sensitive. Let’s leave it at that.
Jane Currer: The top team in the country was in their late twenties, and everyone assumed they would retire after the 2002 Games. Isabella and Garrett were the future of U.S. ice dance.