A/N: Hey everyone; I moved so I didn't have Internet for a while. I'm really sorry about the wait. I was going to post this as two chapters but decided this story's structure is convoluted enough. =D I'm grateful for all the reviews and really wasn't expecting so many story/author alerts on my first fanfic! All your criticisms make me a better writer and I promise I'll try to get better with each story. Enjoy!

One Week, Day Three

Kaylie doesn't know how long it takes for her to wake up because of the song blasting through the room, but she does and when she slowly opens her eyes and blinks them a few times, she realizes the sun's early rays are already leaking through the gaps between the curtains, announcing the arrival of dawn. And, now that she thinks about it, of the day of the exposition.

The increasingly annoying song plays another loop and she reaches over her bed and over a warm lump beside her, and snatches a cellphone from the bedstand. Sitting up and cradling the cellphone she realizes that...it isn't really hers...

And then the events of the night before become fresh in her mind again and she releases a small gasp, staring at the "lump" beside her—Nicky.

Did they really just sleep in the same bed? Side by side? Together?

She should be more shocked, she knows. Her surprise comes more from forgetting he was there, rather than the fact that he's there, and that's alarming.

Kaylie allows her gaze to settle on the reposing Nicky, since she's always wanted to stare at his handsome face but of course, gawking is not something Kaylie Cruz does.

Nicky's jaw is strong. When she leans in just a bit to get a better look, she notices the slight facial hair that's just short enough to barely be there, yet colors the lower half of his face a faint green.

His hair is a mess. Really. He has hair that in length, rivals Carter's, but it has a propensity to stick up rather than fall around his face in curls. Maybe Nicky was right and Carter's hair belongs to a woman from the '70s. She guesses her brain is still shut down, because she doesn't think twice before gently touching his hair. She won't try to tame it, of course. But she wants to know what it feels like, and smiles because it's soft and she thought it'd have prickled her.

One of his arms is wrapped around the pillow upon which his head rests, and her eyes turn to examine it instead. His bicep looks hard and imposing even when he's not flexing it. Gingerly, she pokes the muscle with her index finger, then relaxes and rests a hand on it because it's so warm.

She uses her other hand to raise the cellphone to sight. Its faint light is telling her that it's 6 in the morning; she's used to waking up at 8, but isn't surprised Nicky would set his alarm to such an ungodly hour. He does looks like the kind of person who trains even when the gym isn't open, maybe pulling an Emily and venturing over to playgrounds? Kaylie lays down on the bed again, mulling over when she should start getting ready for the day. The actual exposition begins at 2pm, with warm-ups at noon. And MJ said they had two interviews to finish during warm-up, which in this case meant...

"What time is it?"

"Six," she responds automatically and then widens her eyes, her entire body stiff.

He yawns and sits up, looking down at her slightly horrified figure. "Morning jog?"

Kaylie is slightly astounded at his offer. "If that's your first thought, I just know you're not fully awake yet."

"I'm awake. My eyes are open," he argues and flashes her a lazy, content smile.

Kaylie ignores the fluttering in her stomach. "Why are you in my bed?"

Still smiling, he opens his mouth to reply but then shuts it abruptly as his eyes roam around the room. The fact they're avoiding her tells Kaylie he finally remembered.

She wants these clouds of awkwardness to clear, because she can't stand the tension that creeps between them when everything is going well but then something happens to remind them that they're tip-toeing a dangerous line.

Nicky finally looks at her nervously, but she smiles reassuringly and he seems relieved. "We should have built one of those walls of pillows to separate your half of the bed from mine," Nicky suggests lightly. "Look at this. I have less than a quarter of the bed. I wonder why I didn't fall over!"

Kaylie likes it that it's humorous again, not uncomfortable, and she can let her laughter ease the pain in her chest. "Are you out of your mind? Look at this," she says with her best accusing glare, pointing to the blanket enveloping them. "You hogged more than half of it. It's all lumped over on your side."

"No it's...oh. Yes, it is..." Nicky agrees with embarrassed shock, then exchanges a smile with her. "What do you do in your mornings?"

"Sleep."

"Well when do you run?"

"At eight, when I wake up. Not at six, when I'm still R.E.."

"I don't want to throw you off your rhythm, but do you wanna get a few miles in now? With me?"

"How did you guess the first thing I like to do in a freezing morning, is run?"

Laughing, he rubs his eyes and walks to their window, raising the curtains and allowing sunlight to effectively wake them both up completely. "Call me psychic. I know, for an example, that right now you want nothing more than to tell me how great I am, and that Nicky Russo is truly a supreme being."

He looks at her again, and she's silent, because she's afraid she'll say exactly what he suggested, but she'll mean it. Instead, she forces her familiar easy sarcasm to push away her nervousness. "Wow, Russo. It's a gift."


Nicky wonders why he's not more panicky or fidgety right now. He spent the night in Kaylie's room, in her bed with her, and now they're getting breakfast on said bed and she's throwing a strawberry at his face because he attempted to "read her mind" again and told her she's feeling sorry she snores and kicks when she sleeps.

(Which is not true, by the way. He's a light sleeper and would've woken up in a second if she were either one of those things.)

It feels too normal to be with her like this. With any other girl he'd probably have been a nervous mess, utilizing his gymnastic pride to cover up his jitters. Right now, however, they're both laughing as she smears whipped cream on his cheek to "go with the strawberry" and nothing feels out of the ordinary.

After they're done eating he returns to his room to get ready for their run and five minutes later, they're stretching outside, inhaling the harsh early morning air and watching their breaths leave their bodies in long smoky puffs.

They talk occasionally during their run, but it feels like a race, so he's focused. She's a great runner and five miles later he's slowing down and pacing himself while she shows no sign of doing the same.

Finally, they pass by a park for a breather, and stop at a bridge built over a small pond. Kaylie's cheeks are flushed and her hair isn't perfectly slicked back as it was before, and there's a small voice inside his head telling him he shouldn't be noticing these things. They hear her phone vibrate; when she snatches it from her pocket he catches a brief glimpse of Carter's picture and remembers that they talked about him—of how it began with the rush of excitement and innocence, and ended with her heart and dignity minced and forgotten. She told him she still had some remnants of feelings for him, but that was all; a second later they were on to a different topic. Nicky's mind is brought back to what Kaylie is saying at the moment as she carries on as though her cellphone never left her pocket, and he decides he'll forget it too.

He tells her he's not used to having company when he runs in the morning. She tells him snarkily that she wonders why he doesn't have company. It's so cold this early that she can't feel her ears or nose and even her eyebrows don't want to move. Then she smiles and adds that she just likes to complain; he's fun and makes it worth it to freeze her extremities off. Nicky feels like something is filling his chest and stomach, like cold air, but it feels good and he doesn't want it to go away.

He accidentally brushes his hand by Kaylie's and is startled by how cold she is. He apologizes for taking her out on a run with this weather, and envelops both her hands in his.

"You're hot," she chuckles, aware of the other meaning and simultaneously making fun of it.

The mixture of happiness, excitement, and something else he can't quite pin down is swirling wildly in him. Kaylie's eyes are really bright and lively, and her laughter is contagious. He's afraid he's staring too much.

And it's not that he hasn't noticed that she's a beautiful girl. At the Rock, her looks are considered one of those undebatable facts of the universe: the Earth is round, the Pope is Catholic, and Kaylie Cruz is hot. But now it seems his body is processing this information as well, not just his mind, and he feels slightly uncomfortable, looking directly into her eyes when he really wants to look away.

She's talking about the other girls at the Rock and how different it is to be away from them, and he notices that she mentioned Payson's name, but somehow he can't pay any heed to what she's saying. His mind is empty, except for a voice that keeps murmuring, Kaylie, Kaylie Kaylie, Kaylie, Kaylie. The memory of her laugh when she reached into the bowl of whipped cream just before spreading a handful of it on his face flashes quickly in his brain, and before his mind can register what he's doing, he's leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

How long did it last before he backed away with dread, avoiding her eyes and embarrassed beyond repair? Nicky swallows hard because if things between them are forever ruined it's his fault he couldn't maintain his restraint. Their friendship is crumbling down with each passing of silent seconds in which he can't stand to be so close to her, and can't stand the idea that he won't have anyone to talk to and laugh with the next day. This feels worse than being in second place at Nationals.

"Well, that was awful," he hears her say, and looks up only to see her wide, comforting smile, telling him it's okay—they're still normal. Just like that, Kaylie has fixed it.

"What medal would you give it?" he continues, because at least she's being broadly sarcastic so he knows it wasn't that bad. He's an ok kisser, right?

"A medal? You'd be lucky to be in 4th."

"Well, you weren't so good yourself. I was expecting the kind of kissing skills that could win a national competition, but..."

"But...?"

"It was just meh."

She laughs. "Meh?" They're still really close. Why aren't they stepping away from each other?

"Don't get me wrong; a 'meh' kiss isn't bad," he explains, but now neither of them can stop laughing. "It just isn't impressive." Nicky is aware now of how he feels like he's being pulled towards her, but they're laughing, so is this entire moment another joke they'll laugh at?

"I can be impressive." She's still laughing when she pulls him down and kisses him, and through the deafening thundering of his heart and the millions of busy, excited thoughts that dash across each corner of his mind and cause curiously strong flutterings in his stomach, he's aware that somehow, this doesn't feel like a joke. He knows he won't want to laugh about this afterwards. He'll want to do it again, and again, and again...

I always feel like

Somebody's watching me

And I have no privacy

Kaylie actually fishes his phone from his jacket pocket and answers it for him, but Nicky is very nervous--he can't see her expression, so he can't tell whether she thought this kiss was for jest or it meant something. Heck, he doesn't know what it meant; maybe she can enlighten him.

He suddenly remembers his kiss with Payson, and actually takes a sobering step back, and away from Kaylie. No, this wasn't a joke. He likes Payson, not Kaylie. In his mind, Payson was always the ideal model for the perfect girl, and yet here he is, resisting Kaylie's crushingly strong gravity. He liked the kiss—no, he really, really liked the kiss. So what does that mean? If he used to spend time with Kaylie to avoid thinking about Payson's rejection, what does it mean that he now has to bring up memories of Payson's awe-inspiring routines to keep him from kissing Kaylie again?

Time rushes back, and he watches Kaylie talk into his phone. He can hear the low, unintelligible hum from the other end, and convinces himself he looked at Kaylie's lips because he was looking at the cellphone. Not because he just kissed them.

"We're just jogging. We'll be in the hotel in about an hour," Kaylie is saying. She doesn't seem much affected at all. Maybe he shouldn't be. "On the intersection of Main Street and...yes, right at that park. No, we can run back. Okay." Kaylie shuts the phone and offers him a resigned shrug. "Another preparation for yet another interview. Try to contain your enthusiasm."

Nicky can't think of a playful comment. He can't think about anything. Why isn't she affected? Why is his composure disintegrating and all she does is shrug?

"We have to run back," she continues. "MJ offered to send a car for us, but," Kaylie pauses and smiles mischievously, "I want to kick your ass again, racing you back to the hotel."

Pull yourself together, idiot. He thinks of the upcoming exposition, which instills in him the old jolt of competitiveness that's always managed to bury his feelings and vulnerability beneath ambition and passion for the sport. Yes, this is better. "Kaylie, we got here at the same time. You hardly kicked my ass."

"True. There isn't much there to kick," she chuckles, and he forces out a laugh. "Well, I did slow down so you could keep up."

Nicky feigns annoyance, containing the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Much better. "You're...a show-off."

She puffs up her chest and scowls, imitating him. "You're...slow." They trade smiles but he coughs a second later. "You ok?"

"I'm fine. Just got better from the flu." She frowns but he hears her burst out laughing when abruptly he takes off running, calling out "try to keep up, Cruz!" behind him.


He didn't mean to do it, Kaylie tells herself, thinking about her newfound closeness with Nicky for the first time since arriving in Denver—and questioning whether she's betraying Payson. She's aware that Payson rejected Nicky, but they like each other so perhaps that didn't mean anything? She sighs.

No, he definitely didn't mean to kiss her. Maybe if she was Payson, but she isn't, and will never be. She's had to defend the title of National Champion ever since she won it, because it implies she's better than Payson, and most of the time, even Kaylie has to pause and wonder how many people laugh when faced with the statement: Kaylie Cruz is better than Payson Keeler. The medal was so heavy.

She's not Payson. Therefore, the only possible explanation for Nicky's action was that he let his attraction to her get the better of him and followed an impulse. There was nothing behind the kiss except mere attraction, which was why she once again made a joke of it, like they make jokes of every romantic moment they ever share. It's a pattern she recognized a while ago: she and Nicky are like a rubber band, and they keep stretching their relationship with actions fit to be performed by couples, not friends. And then the rubber band relaxes back to normal when they turn their actions and feelings into jokes.

She always thinks the rubber band is going to break. She thought it was going to break when they trained together in the gym, and allowed their looks to linger on each other for a few seconds too many. She thought it was going to break when they slept on the same bed. And now this--a full-on five second kiss. And it hasn't broken yet. What will it take?

She watches him take a step back, horror stamping his features, while she listens to MJ's harsh accent dispense the instructions for the day. He's thinking about Payson...

Slightly stung, she composes herself and smiles, thankful he's looking away so she has time to close her eyes for a brief moment. "We're just jogging. We'll be in the hotel in about an hour."


Nicky will always remember the beginning of the end. The moments leading up to the exposition, when he first observed that something was off with Kaylie, and then the actual exposition, taking place where he could look at Payson and Kaylie side by side, and realize the choice has already been made, but it's wrong.

They ran 3 miles in 25 minutes, which he thought was great--running with a partner did improve the outcomes after all--and then decided to walk the remaining two back to the hotel. During that time he managed to file away his kiss with Kaylie deep inside the corner in his mind farthest from his current thoughts. They were walking farther apart, and he could sense some tension, but figured it'd normal after sharing a kiss. Somehow, their talk led them to what he could tell was a sensitive subject for both.

"Payson was always the best," Kaylie said, and he saw that she had a pensive, reluctant manner, as though she was saying everything in her head once before saying it out loud. "Ten years of getting silver medals. I always thought that was the order of things."

"And then you won Nationals and she got hurt," he completed forlornly, pondering on how the best gymnast he'd ever seen lost the medal, and then lost her career as well. At that moment, he had noticed Kaylie's eyes flicker to him and turn a shade darker, but he hadn't given much through to that.

"I didn't think I was going to win. Payson and Kelly Parker were almost tied, and I was second. Parker got a great score on her last exercise, and if Payson did hers perfectly, she'd beat her, even if by a small margin. I still had one exercise, and Payson was going to do her bars. And then..." Kaylie hesitated. They were close to the hotel; he recognized the shops. "And then I did my exercise, and thought, 'this is it. Payson will be perfect on bars, like always, but at least...at least I beat Kelly Parker.'"

"So you would have won anyway."

"What do you mean?"

Nicky noticed her entire body becoming stiffer, and later, as they're driving back to Boulder and he's unwilling to believe they can't be fixed, he recognizes Kaylie's reaction as the first red flag. "Payson and Kelly Parker were tied, and you beat Kelly Parker. So you would have won anyway, even without Payson's injury."

Kaylie looked at him with an odd, unsettling expression. As though he had said something he wasn't supposed to. He decided to change the subject, but keep it gymnastics-related. "You know, I had to go on the horse after that guy that ended up winning gold. I'm normally unfazed. But that was bad. I got stressed out."

Kaylie let out an uneasy laugh. "I used to be nervous if I had to go up after Payson. She sets standards I don't think I could meet. I never met them, anyway."

"I recognize an inferiority complex when I see one," Nicky said quietly.

She shrugged, a little too carelessly for her. "I wouldn't want to be the one after Payson in anything." Nicky stopped.

"What?"

She turned to him, eyes and expression unreadable but then MJ approached them. "Good morning, you two. Hope you enjoyed your exercise." Her accent made everything sound more formal. "Go get ready for your pre-warm-ups interviews. Be ready in 30 minutes, and meet me in the conference room."


To the soundtrack of MJ's melodic accent, Kaylie has been counting the steps towards the hotel, her heart rate steadily increasing. She feels as though she's walking to her death, and can feel herself perspiring underneath her thick sports attire.

Not that Nicky noticed. He was obviously still very perturbed by their kiss, which she understands. He's probably just glad she didn't take it the wrong way—they're supposed to be friends, and that's all.

She calculates twenty steps from her floor's elevator to her room, and begins the countdown, her mind flooded with guilt. She betrayed Payson; yes she did. There's no denying it. Caught up in the light-hearted moment immediately following his kiss, she forgot all about her problems in Boulder, and all about her promises to herself, and followed her own impulse. Until that stupid ringtone sounded in the inch between them, and reality dragged her out from her daydream.

Fifteen steps left. And fifteen minutes to take a shower and be all made-up for the cameras.

She'll just try her best to push these feelings and thoughts aside. She's a great actress, and can lie her way out of anything.

Ten steps left. Why is she slowing down? Because you don't want to step into your room, and glance at that picture on your nightstand of you, Payson, Lauren, and Emily, that's why.

Five steps left. She thinks about Nicky, and about the butterflies. And about how she's figured out how his mind works, and how much she enjoys being able to tell what he's thinking by reading his body language.

Then she's standing in front of her door and she realizes she really, really wants to cry, but her eyes are dry. What does that mean?

"Kaylie." It's Nicky. She turns, and he still looks apprehensive. She shouldn't have told him about her—what did he call it?—inferiority complex. It's Payson, you idiot, she wants to say. The whole gym is inferior.

"Our interview is in twenty minutes," Kaylie reminds him unnecessarily.

"What did you mean by that whole not-wanting-to-be-after-Payson thing? Were you talking just about gymnastics? Or..." he doesn't finish his sentence, and Kaylie knows it's because he can't believe she thought he'd even look at her as a replacement for Payson.

"Just gymnastics, Nicky," she assures with a small smile. "Now go get ready. That hair is hard to tame and you might need more time."

Grinning, Nicky enters his room, and shuts the door. Only then does Kaylie do the same.


Unblinkingly, he watches Kaylie's floor routine and is breathless, unaware of the other athletes, the cheering—indeed, unaware of time and space. Was she this good at Nationals? Every landing seems to coincide with a heartbeat of his and for the first time since he met Kaylie, Nicky doesn't doubt her--not her talent, not her skill, not her worthiness of that gold medal that had seemed so out of place on her chest at the Nationals podium. He's entranced, and it takes a nudge on his shoulder to snap him out of it.

"Payson," he breathes with surprise, his entire body rigid with awkwardness. She smiles at him, then sets her blue-eyed gaze on Kaylie.

"How is she doing?"

"She's...perfect. Really, really great," he replies without thinking. He wants to watch the rest of Kaylie's routine, but he's wanted to talk to Payson for a very long time, and this is his chance.

Should he tell her about the kiss? No, Kaylie probably wouldn't want to. Not that that kiss mattered much to her, apparently. During the interviews, rehearsing his answers in his mind was all he could do to stop himself from thinking about Kaylie, while she was her usual bubbly, carefree self. Then, warm-ups went by without a hitch for her, while he wondered why she was avoiding him. Or was she? Maybe she was just concentrated on training. So he did the same, and so far, his performance has been excellent.

Nicky brings his attention back to the girl standing in front of him and asks the question he's always wanted to. "How's the high school boyfriend?" Payson is quiet for a second. She doesn't seem mad, or irritated, or happy--she's just very calm.

"Do you really care, Nicky?" she asks, almost emotionless.

"Well...the day I asked the first time, on Valentine's Day, I really did."

"How about today? Are you asking me because you care, or because you used to and you made a mental note for next time you saw me?" It's his turn to take a moment to think about her question, because he's not sure. "Do we really know each other?"

"Yes. Yes, we do. I've watched you for so long, and we even...you know, outside your hotel room," he insists. It felt odd to be defending his feelings.

"Really? Because I think all we did was watch each other over our years of training at the Rock, and we saw in the other who we wanted to be." Nicky swallows hard. Why is this making sense? She's the reason he was turning away Kaylie, and now... "I think you need someone, who'll...show you who you really are."

"Why did you come here? Why are you telling me this?"

She chuckles, shaking her head as though not quite believing what she's about to say. "I have a friend from my school who installed this app on my phone... I get alerts when any news media reports anything Rock-related. You know, a way to keep up with what's happening. So I saw this," she says, and raises a cellphone to his gaze. Nicky's entire body freezes at the sight, and his heart might as well have stopped. "I know you and Kaylie, and know how things are."

"Are you still trying to get rid of me?"

"Nicky..." he feels Payson's hand on his cheek, and thinks about how Kaylie's hand felt when it rested on the same place. "I think that if you really think about it, you'll see that you don't care anymore what I'm trying to do."

Payson is looking into his eyes with understanding and he realized that at that moment he's feeling all sorts of peaceful. There is no turmoil in his stomach and chest, no battling questions in his mind. He's looking at Payson and seeing a friend, and someone who no longer holds his fascination. It reminds him of when he was seven years old and he thought he wanted to be a mathematician. Gymnastics was too hard but he was good at math and this made him think his life would be easier if he stuck with what came more naturally to him, what was familiar to him, instead of something that constantly challenged him and made him feel in above his head, like gymnastics.

"You're my math, Payson." It comes out as a barely audible murmur, like how he heard Kaylie's voice when she asked him what he was doing in her bed. "Kaylie is my gymnastics."

Payson doesn't quite understand that, but smiles warmly. "Friends?"

"Friends."


Kaylie's entire body is on fire. Her routine is very high rated in difficulty, and she's feeling it in her muscles, skin, and bones.

Control your breathing. Turn just right. Leap. Land. Raise your arms. Move your leg two inches. Leap. Land. Remember the hip.

Her heart is hammering away in her chest and she wants to get this over with. When she's competing, time always seems shorter and longer than it really is.

Another jump. Double Arabian. Landed it. Great. Two more maneuvers. Last jump. Land. Breathe. Raise your arms. The applause and cheering manage to drown out the sound of her galloping heart.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Nicky and Payson, and she has her hand on his cheek, but that's a fleeting thought because her attention is again fully on the judging panel before her. How did she do? She can't remember any mistakes, but her arm placements might have been off in two jumps. She turns her body to salute the other half of the judges' table and this is when she stops paying attention to how her scores will turn out. Payson says something to Nicky, he smiles and says something back, and then she kisses him on the cheek. But very close to the mouth--is it just her angle?

The expected torrent of guilty thoughts invades her mind once again, but this time she isn't worried about having backstabbed Payson by kissing Nicky. She's... reliving their kiss, and noticing how tainted this memory is now that she's seeing Nicky receiving a kiss from the girl he actually likes. This particular brand of jealousy is foreign to her; even with Carter and Lauren, her feelings stemmed from a sense of entitlement—Carter was hers, not Lauren's. But now, as though she had been slapped, she's confronted with a harsher truth: Nicky is Payson's, not hers. Oh my God.

Oh my God; she likes the guy Payson likes, knowing full well he likes her back and she's just the second-best. It's a thought that sucks away part of the joy she's having from completing a great routine, and fills her with a lonely, dejected mix of emotions she hides well underneath a peppy smile. Kaylie drops her arms and walks off the mat with her heart in her stomach.

Her scores are the best of the night and it cheers her up somewhat, even though there's a melancholic weight on her chest she's unable to shake off. She takes a quick shower, and then a second to examine herself on the mirror, wondering if Nicky will tell Payson about their kiss, and whether she'll lose all of her closest friends. The fear that she'll never have what she wants is outweighed by another fear—that maybe she always wants the wrong things and she'll end up alone.

Afterwards, Kaylie is being congratulated by fellow gymnasts and mentally bracing herself for the horde of reporters circling her, when she feels herself gently pulled by the arm. Turning, she's greeted by the sight of a wide-smiled Carter.

"You were awesome, Kaylie."

"Thanks," she says appreciatively. She briefly wonders whether Carter was the only one watching her routine, seeing as how Lauren was performing some vaults, Emily was at the beam, and Payson and Nicky...don't think about it, Kaylie.

"How has your stay in Denver been?"


Nicky decides to search for Kaylie, kicking himself because he missed the last half of her routine talking to Payson. It was a great talk and one that illuminated much for him on his current situation. He feels as though the burden of his previous dilemma has been lifted from his body and he can breathe again—Kaylie is it. She's the girl.

So now he needs to see her, because...because he just needs her, that's all. That kiss changed things, and she needs to know—perhaps she'll want to take this further, and it only takes 20 minutes to drive from Denver to Boulder.

He's able to infiltrate the wall of reporters and media staff and is mildly taken aback when he sees her talking to Carter, who Nicky didn't bother to think of when he was pondering how many people his kiss with Kaylie would affect. Nicky steps closer, because neither of them can see him among the other athletes giving interviews and posing for pictures.

"How has your stay in Denver been?"

"Uh...disappointing. Hasn't been much fun, just work and train." Nicky is confused. All they did was have fun.

"Well, Russo came here with you."

"No need to be jealous, Carter. Nothing is going on." Nicky doesn't know why her response unsettles him since of course, he and Kaylie aren't anything right now. "It's hard to trust anyone after what you put me through though." Now he's miffed. So she doesn't trust him either is what she's implying. Why is she saying this? Why does she sound so honest?

"We love each other Kaylie. I can't always be telling you how sorry I am when you know it all already. I know you love me too," Carter says firmly, and a panicky thought invades Nicky's mind. She said she still liked him. That's why she was so unfazed by their kiss—it really didn't matter to her. He's overtaken by a strong urge to run away and never see her again, but stays put. Maybe he can change her mind. He can prove to her that he's better than Carter. All he needs is a chance.

"Carter, this isn't the time or the place. All you need to know is that because of you and my mother, I've realized love only makes you weaker, and I'd never allow myself to be open to hurt like that ever again." Nicky turns on his heel and quietly walks away. He bumps into MJ, who convinces him to give an interview on his surprise win over the national champion. All Nicky does is nod, and numbly follows her to the tables set up for the press conferences and interviews.


Kaylie can't erase from her mind the image of Payson's hand on Nicky's cheek, and avoids Nicky for the rest of the night. She's sure he's doing the same to her because he makes it so obvious. They had to sit beside each other for a small press conference afterwards (nothing like the ones post-Nationals thank God), and he was squirming in his seat the whole time through, till she angrily decided to alleviate their tension by moving her chair farther from his. She could understand why he was acting as though she were a leper—he liked Payson but he had kissed her. His guilty conscience was still hassling him.

It's nighttime already and the photo shoots and press interviews took longer this time because, as MJ explained, Sasha prohibited any press from setting foot inside the Rock again, so now they had to get all the work done tonight. She briefly questioned, without answers, why, exactly, everyone insisted on having her and Nicky always together, and why they were frequently asked whether they really were an item. She shrugs these questions away now.

By the time they concluded their sixth feature for sports magazines and newspaper sections, almost everyone had left, except for a small group of media staffers and writers, and three or four athletes--a few of the medalists. When does this club close?

She remembers she told her parents she wanted to go back to Boulder with them, but then had told them she'd make sure with MJ, but had forgotten to provide an update to either her parents or MJ. Oh well. She'll hitch a ride with whoever is available.

Kaylie was waiting for MJ to wrap it all up and give her the okay to pick up her bags from the locker room, when she saw Nicky forlornly standing by the pommel horse. As though he sensed her gaze on him, he turned to face her and neither of them averted their eyes. He walked towards her and stood a foot from her, but neither betrayed any emotion, even though Kaylie wanted to slap him, punch him, kiss him again--but mostly, she just wanted to ask him whether her eyes had been right, and he had just remembered a few hours ago that he liked Payson and not her. They see MJ pointing to them, talking on the phone and to a staff member simultaneously, and remain silent. She watches more people leave, and a couple of lights are turned off.

A door creak sounds beside her and before she can react, she's been pulled inside the janitor's room she had so casually been leaning back beside.

"Nicky! What the hell!"

"Are you back with Carter or something?" His question should be offensive enough, but his tone mocks her and she can tell it's meant to make her feel stupid.

"What's in it to you, dumbass? It doesn't concern you."

"Oh, is that how we're playing it?"

"Playing it? What are you? Five?"

"Boy, to think I rated your maturity level beyond a sixth grader's."

"I'm sorry I'm not Payson, with the maturity of a hundred years beyond her age."

"Don't you mock Payson," he hisses dangerously, and his ferocious defense of her stings her very deeply. She feels as though the small room is slowly being filled with poison gas.

"You don't know her half as much as I do. Let me break it to you: she's not perfect."

"She doesn't pretend to be, either, unlike you. And your boy-toy Carter."

"Boy, you should be her agent, and not MJ, the way you defend her. It's too bad Payson still doesn't want you and your silver medal." He's visibly stirred by her comment. "And Carter was not my boy-toy, you moron. He was my boyfriend."

"Well, spare me from having to listen to your whole sob story again; your sad little, 'I was betrayed by my boyfriend and my best friend, boo hoo I did get a gold medal though but my heart is broken.'" Nicky's eyes are glistening in the semi-dark with malice, and it's so clear that he intends to hurt her with every word. Kaylie wants to punch him, but even though her fists are clenched tight at her sides, there's still some sanity in her, resisting the rage baiting her to let go.

"I don't have to put up with this. You're an idiot and you don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, yes, Ms. Cruz knows everything. I'm sorry, I don't know anything. I was just a pawn in your little games. Well, I hope you got Carter back just as whipped as you hoped he'd be."

Kaylie's jaw slacks, but he doesn't notice because he opens the door violently and steps out, then stops. She follows him out, because she can't stand being in that claustrophobia-inducing room, where she swears their harsh, hurtful words can still be heard as whispers. But she stops right outside the door as well, because the auditorium is dark, and all the visible doors are closed.

Oh no. They closed the club and left them locked inside.

"Yup. That's all we needed," deadpans Nicky with an angry murmur, but Kaylie stalks off, planning to find at least one hole somewhere she can crawl through and flee from this place. She remembers that her bags are still in the locker room, therefore so is her cellphone, and knows that if she can get to it, she can get out. She can escape from his presence, and that's all that matters.

Kaylie is enormously disappointed and downright outraged when she finds out the doors to the locker rooms and to every other room out of the auditorium are closed as well. The windows are all 30ft above the floor and there aren't even any vents to try to squeeze herself through--she knows because she checked them all one by one and found out that even the restroom vents are small and bolted shut. Nicky is apparently trying to use brute force to get one of the doors open, but that isn't working out either.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to realize they forgot us?" she asks tiredly. She has to force the words out because right now she'd rather put a noose around her neck than talk to him.

"Are we being civil now?" he responds acidly and she rolls her eyes. "No, I don't know. I have no idea. You'd think MJ would check with our parents." That's when she remembers her slip and buries her face inside her hands, sliding her back down a wall she'd been leaning on until she's sitting on the floor, knees raised to cover her face. She's feeling so miserable and tired. The day was too long and seems even longer now that, worse than being alone, she's accompanied by a boy who infuriates and hurts her.

After some time which she doesn't bother keeping track of, she's feeling the lull of sleep slowly chip away at her consciousness. She just wants to forget Nicky's words and stop them from echoing in her mind over and over again, as they're doing now. Kaylie unties her hair, lays down on her side, and thinks about how she'd never have guessed the mats could feel so soft and warm.


Nicky watches her, because she doesn't look back at him and because she looks ready to fall asleep. She finally does, and he uses this opportunity to cover her with his jacket. It's getting colder and she doesn't have the frame to withstand the low temperatures that are going to hit in about two hours. He stays close by in case she wakes up and needs something. Anything.

'It's too bad Payson doesn't want you and your silver medal.'

His own exhaustion is impairing his thinking as well, because he decides they need to share his jacket. He's cold too and surely she won't mind it; they slept on the same bed before right? He hates her right now and would rather endure subzero temperatures but he's too tired. He just wants to be warm and asleep.

The thought of Kaylie so close to him is making his chest ache but he swallows his uneasiness and lays behind her, stretching the jacket as much as he can. She has her back to him and his last thought is how her hair still smells like sweet fruit.


Day Four

"Kaylie! Nicky!" It's MJ, Kaylie thinks groggily. Why is she yelling?

Kaylie opens her eyes and realizes her forehead is resting against someone's warm chest. The smell of soap and something citrusy immediately catches her attention and she sits up.

Nicky. 'I was just a pawn in your little games.'

"Are you two well?" MJ asks, as controlled as always but today with a hint of worry seeping through the edges.

Nicky opens his eyes and blinks a few times before looking at Kaylie. The resentment is so clear she feels as though she's getting stabbed in the chest.

"I'm fine," he replies gruffly.

"So am I," Kaylie agrees, avoiding looking at him now so it hurts less.

As she escorts them to a car, MJ begins a long-winded explanation of what occurred, how the misunderstanding was discovered, etc. Neither Kaylie nor Nicky utter a word in response so when MJ is done, a heavy silence hangs above them.

Kaylie retrieves her cellphone from her bags and sees that she missed 14 calls and has close to a dozen texts, but she's surprisingly indifferent and just puts her phone away without checking anything. She winces when a car's horn blares by because she has a horrible, horrible headache. And is nauseous--not the good kind, that Nicky used to cause either, but that bad kind that makes you want to crawl underneath your covers and emerge only a week later.

Nicky announces for MJ and her whole staff to hear that he intends to train today and not go rest in his home as their agent suggested to compensate their bad night of sleep. And even though Kaylie feels like her health is not top-notch as usual, she recognizes Nicky's challenging glare, daring her to go home instead of training. So she agrees, and braces herself for a very long day ahead of her.

They arrive at the gym and brush hands when they're retrieving their bags from the van's trunk. A sort of defeated calm takes over her and she outstretches the hand that was reaching for her luggage.

"Let's pretend nothing ever happened," is all she says, emotionless but firmly. Gruffly, he flicks his eyes from her hand to her eyes and then grips it.

"Deal."

They turn, and with a sinking, horrible feeling in her gut, she sees Payson and the others smiling and waiting for them at the entrance to the Rock. She reminds herself that she and Nicky have pledged to be civil, even if there's so much tension, heavy in the air around them. Payson waves, her blond hair glistening in the distance, and Kaylie isn't sure whether the wave was meant for her or Nicky. Regardless, Nicky is the one that returns it.

Carter welcomes her first, and she allows him to help her fetch her other bags. She doesn't talk to Lauren about the exposition because of Carter. She's still not that close to Emily and as for Payson... gosh, the more distant she can be from her and Nicky the better. So she settles down for grabbing a sandwich for breakfast with Carter, and summarizes to him her experience in Denver—being careful to avoid anything Nicky-related, of course.

Later, she's performing a 1 ½ Yurchenko on the vault and is mildly upset her landing was slightly off. Nicky is watching, and she doesn't have to wait long for a comment.

"That was really good," he says stiffly. They still are unable to be fully comfortable with one another. "But I've seen you do better, and I know where you made your mistake. I can give you some pointers on how to improve it." Maybe it's just their awkwardness around each other, but she can swear he sounds just like Payson. And it unhinges her nerves, just a little. "You're not training hard enough if you can't land the 1 ½." Now she's offended. Calling her lazy really is the last straw, especially since she usually lands this with no problem.

"Well, I saw part of your routine on the horse. You seem unfocused today. So egomaniacs get distracted too?"

She knows it didn't sound a joke, and she knows that he knows. This is it. Proof that their friendship can't be salvaged. Teasing each other used to be the foreground for jokes, but now there's a load of resentment that makes every word take aim to offend. The rubber band has officially snapped.


I'll try to update sooner. Please review! =)