He was passionate about social work. “You’ll be accepted. They’d be lucky to have you.”

He beamed. “That’s what Etienne says. Did I tell you he and Bree got three key points from the judges on their pattern dance at Nebelhorn?”

I listened as Sam went on about Etienne. He’d had girlfriends before, but his relationship with Etienne was on a new level. There was a glow in his eyes and a reverent tone in his voice.

It seemed he was actually in love, which I couldn’t imagine. Or I could, since I’d once briefly thought I was in love. But I’d only been caught in an immature delusion. Love wasn’t for me.

“You visiting Ojiichan this weekend?” Sam asked.

“Yes. I’m taking him to the JCCC for a Kendo exhibition.”

Sam shuddered. “So many lost Saturdays there. At least Kendo is fun.”

“Shodo was fun too.”

“Only you could think fancy calligraphy lessons were fun. Forget about the language classes. And you got out of everything thanks to skating once you won the national novice title.”

Our parents had met at the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre in Toronto as children when they’d taken lessons there on weekends. They’d carried on the tradition with me and Sam, and though I’d lost all but the basics of the language, I’d enjoyed the challenge.

I said, “Once we moved to Vancouver they let you do what you wanted.”

“Yeah, ’cause they were too busy with all your skating stuff. Then you went and abandoned us by moving back to Toronto.”

The guilt was familiar now, less of a stab than an ache. “You know I had to move to the highest tier coaches, even if it meant coming back here.” It was true—Jillian, my coach in Vancouver, had been perfect for me through my teens, but I’d needed to step up to the next level.

It was also true that I’d had to escape that rink and the daily reminders of what a stupid, pathetic fool I’d been about him. I’d never confessed that part to my family. They’d moved to Vancouver for my sake, but it was their home now, and they’d always been hands-off about my skating.

Our dad’s parents had stayed in Toronto, and I visited Ojiichan every weekend I could. Our grandmother on that side had died a few years ago, and now he lived alone in a small apartment in an assisted living complex.

“I’m just busting your balls,” Sam said. “Besides, you’ll be back at Halloween for Skate Canada. Everyone’ll be there with bells on.”

I gripped my fork. I had to win. Theodore would be there too, which was aggravating especially since the ISU usually tried to keep the top skaters from competing directly on the Grand Prix circuit until the final in December.

But he’d insisted on doing Skate America and Skate Canada back-to-back. Then he’d have uninterrupted training time before the final. Other skaters had used this strategy too, but I preferred to spread out my competitions.