That he’d waited for me.

Grinning, I hopped in. “You didn’t have to wait! Thanks. I wouldn’t have taken so long if I’d known. You really don’t have to give me rides all the time. I don’t expect that.”

“It’s wasteful not to drive together.”

“That’s true. This is better for the environment.” I couldn’t stop grinning. “I’m not getting up at the crack of dawn every day like you do, but this is awesome. I’ll give you gas money, obviously. Hey, where’s your second Grand Prix? You’re doing NHK in Osaka, right? Do you know who’s on the panel? The technical specialist for the Junior Grand Prix Final is Edgar Stein, and Ga-young is shitting bricks since he’s such a hard-ass on edge calls. Her Lutz is definitely more of a flutz.”

Henry gave his usual short answers. In the elevator at the condo, I almost invited him to my place for dinner, which would have meant ordering pizza and eating on a cardboard box since I had no furniture. I was clearly lonely since Henry wasn’t even good company.

Except maybe he kind of was? He didn’t talk much, and he hated me, but he was always listening in a way I was drawn to. Still, he was my biggest rival, and it probably wasn’t a good idea to spend too much time together.

He probably had zero desire to hang out. So I said goodnight when he got off the elevator. I tried to FaceTime Em in LA, but she was busy. I tried a few other LA friends, but they were busy too.

I texted with people regularly and saw them on Insta and wherever, but it was a busy, stressful Olympic season, and pretty much everyone I knew at this point was in the skating world. In LA, we’d trained together and partied on the weekends when we didn’t have competitions coming up.

But now that I was away from them, I realized it was all kind of on the surface. We’d had a ton of fun, and they understood skating angst. But when I tried to think of times we talked about other things—real life or family stuff—I came up blank.

I wondered if Henry had friends. He must have, though he’d always seemed a loner at competitions. Maybe we could hang since we were neighbors. Right. Neighbors and bitter rivals for Olympic gold, I reminded myself.

Well, not that I was super bitter, but it wasn’t a good idea to spend too much time with the person most likely to beat me. I could imagine my mom grinding her teeth that I was even getting rides from him.

Which of course made me want to hang out with Henry even more.

After a frozen dinner—an organic brand with actual vegetables, so at least healthyish—I called Mr. Webber.

He’d never been much for small talk, and answered with, “I heard from your mother.”

I groaned. “Seriously? Sh—” I caught myself. “Shoot. I’m sorry she bothered you. She has no right.”