“I don’t mean to keep you, Ryan,” she says, touching him lightly on the arm. “I know you’re here to socialize with the other coaches. Why don’t you go off and enjoy? Avery and I can catch up.”

My stomach drops. Ryan glances at me inquisitively, and I have no choice but to grin back at him.

“Go,” I say.

He looks uncertain, but leaves my side to join in on a nearby conversation with three stocky men. Jasmine and I each take a long sip of our drinks. I don’t think either one of us knows what to say.

“So,” she says.

“So,” I respond, searching for the right words.

I have seven years of burning questions for Jasmine, and none of them are appropriate cocktail party fodder. Do you realize that you got everything I ever wanted? How did you end up married to that monster? Are you even happy?

“I don’t mean to stare, I’m sorry,” she says, blinking, embarrassed. “It’s just, wow. It’s still so surreal that you’re here.”

“I only moved back a few months ago,” I explain.

“From LA, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, LA,” I confirm. “I came back for this coaching opportunity. It was just too good to pass up.”

She never has to know the truth.

“So, are you two, like, a thing now?” Her eyes dart in his direction.

I wish I had thought to hammer out a joint answer to this question with Ryan before we walked in the door. I don’t want to say yes, only to have him find out and think I’m overestimating his feelings for me. It’s not like we’ve had the What are we? talk yet. But downplaying my situation with Ryan doesn’t feel right, either. I settle for a purposefully coy sip of my drink.

“Oh my god,” she says, dropping her voice down to a whispered squeal and clutching my arm. “This is nuts, isn’t it? After all these years? We always thought he was so cute.”

For a split second, I forget everything, and we’re just teenagers again, best friends, teammates. We were so close, we were each other’s designated Butt Glue Girl—we’d take turns applying the roll-on adhesive just under the edges of our leotards before competitions so we wouldn’t get uncomfortably distracting wedgies in the middle of routines. I’ve never really understood flashbacks before, but this one comes roaring back with full clarity. And then the moment is over, and I get the ice-cold sensation that Dimitri is watching me, and I duck my head down. I remember to speak quietly and control myself.

“It’s very sweet how this has all come full circle,” I manage to say. “And you? You and Dimitri? I still can’t believe it.”