Chapter Three

He couldn't believe how fast he'd run, but then, he couldn't believe how close Chazz had come to reaching him.

Jimmy sat in the back of the taxi cab, itching to pull his wig off as he gave the address of his new living space to the driver with his best German accent.

If he was completely truthful, he still couldn't believe that anyone at all was convinced that Janine really existed. It was just stupid!

But if it let him skate...

And this way, no one got hurt!

No one would get hurt, and everyone would be just fine. Provided that Chazz didn't realise that his brotherman was in fact pretending to be a woman, it could work. Everything would be fine.

He couldn't win, Jimmy knew. Coach had told him as much when they'd started.

Because if Jimmy won, then there would be tests, and if there were tests, then Jimmy would be found out, and if Jimmy was found out, then Jimmy would be stripped of his medal again, and then he'd probably be banned from all divisions of figure skating for the rest of his life, and that would mean letting everyone down––

Jimmy paused to take a deep breath as he looked at the bag that held his skates.

It would be fine, he decided as he fiddled with the skirts of his costume.

He would just have to try harder.

The skater frowned at himself. This was harder than he'd thought. He'd never entered anything in his life with the intention of losing before.

Keep focus and win. That was what he'd always been taught.

But his next routine... They would have to choreograph falls in just to make sure that Jimmy wouldn't rank for a medal.

He hadn't expected it to be so complicated when he'd suggested the idea to Coach.

He'd left the flat he'd been sharing with Chazz for eighteen months in tears. Jimmy had been certain that he'd never cried so much in his life – not even when his father had unadopted him.

The blonde had shouldered three duffel bags filled with stuffed animals and toiletries, packed all of his clothes into his suitcases and then, he'd walked out the door.

It had been hard going, but he'd just about managed to stay true to Miss Franklin's song; he hadn't looked back as he'd hailed a taxi that drove him to the home that Coach now shared with Jesse.

Thankfully, the only one home when Jimmy had come knocking was the dancer who welcomed the orphan in with open arms. If it had been Coach, Jimmy had no doubt that he would have been screamed at for being so stupid before the door was slammed in his face.

As things actually turned out, he'd been able to appeal to the better nature of the kinder man in the mismatched relationship that the blonde had never thought to ask about, despite what Chazz always––

The skater had started to sob the moment Jesse left the room to call someone named Robert, but as soon as his tears were noticed, the phone was replaced in its cradle, and the dancer had sat on the sofa, throwing a comforting arm around the blonde's shoulders.

"Tell me all about it," Jesse said when a pause finally came as the other man drew in a ragged breath.

And so, Jimmy told him.

Jimmy told him everything.

By the time he had finished, leaving just enough time for stray tears and the occasional sniff, Jesse was shaking his head in utter disbelief.

"James MacElroy, what are we going to do with you?"

Jimmy sniffed loudly.

"I'll tell you what, I'll phone Rob, and he'll come home and sort everything out, alright?"

The blonde nodded tearfully before asking the question that had played on his mind since he'd first heard the dancer use the name; "Who's Robert?"

Jesse gaped at him, "...your Coach?"

"Really?" Jimmy asked, stunned enough that he even forgot about crying for a moment, "I always thought that his name was Coach!"

Jesse shook his head as he stood up to find the phone again, "And I suppose you thought that my name was Mr. Groove-Pants," he said with a sarcasm that was utterly lost on the almost-naïve blonde.

When the Coach had left the bar, he'd expected to go home to a quiet night in with the man that he'd somehow fallen in love with.

But no.

Instead, he'd had a phone call from the same man before walking home in a foul mood.

"MacElroy, what do you think you're doing?" Robert asked the blubbering mess on his sofa.

"I did . . ." words he couldn't understand, " . . . and Chazz said when I . . ." the tears started afresh, earning a well-deserved sigh on Robert's part.

Eventually, he had to get the story from Jesse who was more than happy to pass on the gossip.

A few hours later, the tears had ceased to flow, and Robert couldn't help but wonder where his peace and quiet had gone to.

Obviously, it had flown out of the window at some point, perhaps never to return.

"Do you know what the worst thing is?" Jimmy said finally.

"You've had a fight with Chazz?" was Jesse's suggestion.

"No..."

"You can't talk to your friend?"

"No, not that."

"...you've had to move out of your apartment?" was the only thing that the dancer could think to suggest without causing offense.

"I won't be able to skate this year!"

"...you could always patch things up with Chazz?"

He shook his head, "Not if they can hurt him."

"What else are you gonna do, Jimmy, huh? Dress like a girl and enter the women's––"

Robert stopped at the look slowly dawning on the blonde's face.

"No, Jimmy, no."

"Yes! That's it! That's exactly what I'll do!"

The taxi finally stopped outside Jimmy's new apartment where he paid the driver and climbed out, half-enjoying the catcalls from the builders across the street. To be honest, he didn't see why girls got so worked up about it. It was a compliment!

He unlocked the front door and walked inside, dropping his skates in the hallway as he closed the door and pulled the wig from his head.

This wouldn't be easy.

What if Chazz found out?