We mill around. An older couple asks if I “used to be Dimitri’s girl,” and I have no choice but to nod—Yep, that’s me. Dimitri’s girl. I get a third drink, just to have something to do instead of watch Ryan laugh at Dimitri’s jokes. Finally, he comes to find me in the kitchen.

“You wanna get going?” he asks, touching my arm.

“Yeah,” I say, tamping down the instinct to add, Let’s get out of here.

I rustle up fake warmth to say goodbye to Jasmine and Dimitri. Jasmine insists that we must get together for drinks soon. Dimitri nods silently and stoically at me, then shakes Ryan’s hand.

“We’ll talk,” Dimitri says smoothly.

Ryan looks beatific.

In the car ride back to Greenwood, Ryan invites me to stay over at his place, but I ask him to drop me off at my apartment instead. I turn on the radio, but he turns it off a few seconds later. It’s quiet, with just the hum of the engine to keep us company.

“You don’t seem all that happy about Dimitri’s job offer,” he observes.

“It’s flattering that he asked you,” I say evenly.

“But you don’t think I should take it,” he counters.

“I…” I stare out the window as houses and trees whiz by us in the darkness. “I am incredibly grateful for Dimitri. He changed my life. He could’ve made me an Olympic champion, if things had gone differently. But he’s not a nice person, or a good person, or a person who would treat Hallie fairly.”

“He’s tough and old-school,” Ryan says, shrugging. “That’s what makes him legendary. Coaches aren’t made like that anymore.”

“He’s tough, yeah, but he’s…”

I trail off and bite my lip. I want to say abusive, but that’s not a word you throw around lightly.

“Did you hear what he said about me? Basically calling me fat?” I ask, changing tactics.

“What?” he asks, sounding disgusted. “I didn’t notice.”

“Yeah. ‘There’s so much more of you to see now,’ ” I recite.

Ryan sighs heavily. “That’s not cool.”

“Exactly, it’s not. Imagine hearing that, but worse, all day, every day, when you’re thirteen years old,” I say.

Ryan flicks on his blinker and makes a turn, so it takes a while for him to respond. I get the sense that he’s grateful for the extra time to formulate a response.

“I’m sure he’s not a saint, but this is the opportunity of a lifetime,” he says finally. “I get one shot at a job like this, and there’s no better coach in the entire sport. Every boss has their shortcomings—there’s no ‘perfect’ job.”