I find my balance quickly, but Ryan doesn’t let go. Not at first. His fingers are wrapped around my bicep and my waist, and I’ve braced myself against his chest. He looks down at me. I look up at him. He looks down at his hand wrapped around my torso, like he’s just fully registered that it’s there, and can’t quite believe it. His lips, just inches away from me, curl up in an embarrassed sort of smile. I hate that I like his strong hands holding me up.

Then I hear Hallie’s voice calling my name. The sound jolts me out of Ryan’s arms. I squeeze past him, through the doorway, and into the main part of the gym so I can find Hallie.

“Avery? Avery?” she calls.

I find her near the bars, clutching her phone, frozen in place.

“Did you see the news?” she asks.

Her voice sounds timid.

“No, what news?” I ask.

She glances at Ryan, coming up behind me, then back to me. She holds her phone to her chest and motions for me to come closer. I get a bad feeling.

“Ryan, could you give us a sec?” I ask.

He looks confused, but ducks away.

Hallie flops belly-down on one of the plush crash mats by the bars. I sit cross-legged next to her. She sighs, hands me her phone, and then buries her face in her arms.

“Just read it,” she says, voice muffled and dejected.

My heart sinks when I read the New York Times headline on her screen: “Olympian Delia Cruz Accuses Sports Medicine Dr. Ron Kaminsky of Sexual Assault.” Of course Hallie isn’t the only one he intimidated or abused. I feel so stupid for not realizing she isn’t an isolated case. I know Delia, sort of. She’s halfway between my age and Hallie’s, so we briefly overlapped for a year at competitions, but we were never close. Back when I knew her, she was this bubbly, outgoing kid with a mane of springy, dark curls sprouting from her scrunchie. She used to sneak gummy bears into her gym bag and hand them out covertly in the locker room.

I skim the rest of the story, but after the endless wave of sexual assault allegations against politicians, CEOs, and Hollywood producers over the past few years, the details are sickeningly familiar. Delia says Dr. Kaminsky molested her while allegedly treating her for a hamstring injury. Her mom, like Hallie’s mom, was in the room. The Times reports that a representative for Dr. Kaminsky vehemently denies the claims.

“I had no idea,” Hallie says, voice shaking. “Delia never told me.”

I’m at a loss for what to say. I try to imagine what I would want to hear if I were in her shoes, but I come up frustratingly short. It’s not like I ever had heart-to-hearts with Dimitri.