"Jaime, arch your back a little bit," her figure skating coach told her. "The judges will drool in their seats if you do!"
Jaime did just as she was told, arching her back a bit as she skated across the rink to her partner, Walker. He stuck out his long, muscled arm a moment before they collided, resulting in him picking her up effortlessly and twirling her around. Jaime felt a little girlish giggle rise into her mouth, but she pressed it down, knowing Coach would not like that display of affection while in competition.
Plus, her brother would never let her hear the end of it.
She looked down at Walker's face. He was looking up at her with his mysterious brown eyes that every girl at school would go crazy for. A look of admiration was displayed on his gorgeous face – admiration for her skill as well as her beauty, she knew.
Jaime and Walker had been dating for a year now, since the beginning of sophomore year for her and senior year for him. He may now be at Virginia Tech with her brother, but they work out their relationship.
Jaime looked away from his face, suddenly remembering that her brother was watching.
Walker set her down on the ice, and she immediately slid across the rink, making figure eights as he followed her example on the opposite side.
"Stop!" their coach called. "That's good progress, people. We might end up changing the routine, but it's good as it is."
She dismiss the two from the rink, and Peter was up and out of his seat, waiting for Walker and his sister at the door.
"Nice job today, guys," she smiled. Walker put his arm around Jaime as they walked out of the rink and into the lobby. She forced herself to do the same.
We're in a public place, now, she reminded herself. This is your time with him.
"I have to go to the bathroom," Walker suddenly said, looking at Peter. "I'll be right back, Jaime." He gave her a distracted kiss on the cheek before he left her.
Soon enough, Peter declared the same thing and left her alone in the lobby.
Jaime sighed, hitching her bag of everything up father on her shoulder. She took a seat at a bench and unlaced her skates, trying not to think of what is going on in the bathroom at that moment.
Finally, she couldn't stop herself from facing the truth.
Walker and Peter are gay.
But, seeing as they both come from families that actually matter – Peter and Jaime's father is a representative in the House of Representatives and Walker's mother is the senator of their part of Virginia – they couldn't be public about it. So they made a cover, which was Jaime. When in public, Walker was dating Jaime. When alone and no one can see him, he's with Peter. It made it easier that they both went to the same university and that they were roommates.
The problem was, Jaime actually liked Walker. He was sweet, funny, and handsome. She loves when they got to have public make-out sessions and he was all hers. But she knew deep down that he never felt anything for her and never will.
He loves Peter.
She got frustrated at the thought and threw her skates into her bag. She didn't even wait for her alleged boyfriend and his boyfriend. She instead left the building, found her Mercedes, and drove away.
Walker can ride with Peter and see how hard it is to stay away. That's for squashing my heart.
Instead of driving home, though, Jaime drove over to Sally Turner's house. It was a large, French-style manor that challenged the size of Buckingham Palace. Jaime pulled into the winding brownstone driveway, parked, and went up to the front door.
She knocked three times and Sally came out almost immediately. One look at Sally's tan face and disheveled platinum-blonde hair told Jaime that she was drunk on a Wednesday afternoon.
Jaime smiled a bit at being in the presence of her friend. After the whole Hailey thing happened, Jaime was lost and in the tabloids, which caused everyone to know she was lost. Sally was the one person who tolerated her constant breakdowns and crying – her best friend committed suicide when she was thirteen, so they bonded.
"Whaddaya want?" Sally slurred, gripping the door frame for support.
"Rum," they both said in unison. Sally chuckled. "Should've known."
Sally made way for Jaime, who led the way to the cellar. She climbed down several stairs before her moccasin-clad feet hit the squeaky wood floor. It was cold because it was cold outside, and it smelt like alcohol and grapes due to the wine that had been aging down there for generations. Jaime pulled her Hallberg High School jacket closer to her body as she took a seat in an old lounge chair. Sally sat beside her, opening a big bottle of rum with her bare hands.
"What's the matter?" Sally asked, pouring some rum into little crystal cups.
"Just a tiring practice," Jaime lied, shrugging her shoulders. "I need to blow off some steam."
"No boyfriend today?" Sally noticed.
Jaime smirked, remembering last weekend. She had brought Walker over here, and he, Sally, and Jaime had all drank at least two bottles of Jack Daniels each. Walker had serenaded Jaime with a mash up of several cheesy Disney songs, and even through the drunken haze she was in she could still recall that these quirks of his actions are what make him even more lovable.
"Was Coach a bitch? That woman needs to get her attitude checked," Sally added.
"Coach is always a bitch," Jaime agreed, talking a cup from Sally and raising it in the air. "To Coach's bitchiness!"
Sally laughed uncontrollable, but still managed to clank glasses with Jaime.
And, for a few hours, as Jaime got drunk and Sally got drunker, Jaime forgot all about her love-life's problems.
She even convinced herself that she was an independent woman who doesn't need a man to make her happy.
But, deep down, she knew she was lying.