Chapter 4: Together Again
At the end of the day Sasha's icy comment was still ringing in Payson's ears. She had forgotten how intimidating that man could be. It reminded her of the fear she'd felt at sixteen when he first stepped into the Rock. It was almost comical to think that less than a year after that first meeting, Payson Keeler had gone from stuttering in her coach's presence to kissing him on the lips.
"Ah, Ms. Keeler! How can I help you?"
A friendly hotel desk attendant interrupted Payson's daydreaming. She recognized him, smiled, and stepped forward to the counter.
"Hello. I was wondering..." she started in a low voice. "Could I get the room number of an old friend of mine?"
The young man bit his lip, looking hesitant. "I'm sorry, Ms. Keeler, but for privacy reasons we don't usually do that sort of thing without expressed consent."
Payson Keeler sighed. She racked her brain for what to do in this situation. Should she tip him? Should she flirt with him?
Luckily, Payson didn't have to decide. The attendant folded rather quickly. He probably didn't like the idea of disappointing a pretty girl. Men were weak that way. He signaled for her to lean forward and he cautiously whispered, "Name?"
A grin spread across Payson's face. "Sasha Belov."
He clicked through the computer for a minute, then turned back to her and said, "Room 712, Ms. Keeler."
"Thank you." she said graciously. She flashed one more smile to the blushing desk attendant then headed towards the elevator. Payson wondered whether he would've helped her so willingly if he knew "Sasha" was the name of a tall, rugged man and not a dainty female friend.
She stepped into the elevator and pressed "7" firmly before she lost her nerve.
Ben had discovered a great deal about Sasha Belov that first day of filming. First, he learned that Sasha was a man of few words; Ben had to practically milk out answers from the man. Second, he discovered that Sasha had spent the bulk of his time since the Rock fishing and taking care of his father - nothing exciting or dramatic. Third, Ben learned that Sasha truly cared about his gymnasts despite the current turmoil. Each time he asked Sasha about any one of the Rock Rebels, the old coach's face would light up as he recalled a charming anecdote or praised an individual strength. It was a fascinating thing to watch – especially considering that three of those girls had just given him the cold shoulder.
After the long day of filming, Sasha returned to his hotel room. Without friends in the city, he had little else to do. He tried to fall asleep early, but he was unsuccessful. He even tried to watch American television, but that didn't work either (Sasha had very little interest in reality shows, criminal justice, and forensic science). Boredom finally set in as the light outside his window faded. His evening prospects looked bleak.
A sudden knock on his door made him jump. He wasn't expecting anyone, but he was craving any sort of excitement or human interaction. Without hesitation he strode over to the door and swung it open.
"P-Payson."
There she was in the flesh - the most talented and focused gymnast he'd ever coached. His jaw dropped slightly. He hadn't expected this.
Payson Keeler hesitated, wondering whether the surprised look on Sasha's face was a good or bad sign.
"Sorry. Am I disturbing you? This can wait…"
She started to turn away, but Sasha opened his door wider and motioned for her to come in. "No, of course not! Please come in."
Payson stepped in slowly. His room was a replica of her own, only with small traces of Sasha littered around: a tube of hair gel, a jar of Nutella on the dresser, and some white collared shirts hanging in the closet. She inhaled and captured traces of musky colone that triggered several memories.
Sasha closed the door behind her and, for the first time, got a good look at the twenty something version of his former gymnast. In many ways she was just as he left her. Everything in Payson's control was the same as it had always been – most notably her mature aura, casual style, and long hair. Some elements outside her control had evolved. Her body had changed as well as the way she carried it. Her muscles had softened and given way to feminine curves – a transformation common in retired gymnasts. Sasha noticed how Payson moved through space more gracefully too. Perhaps this had been a side effect of the artistic style in her later career. He smiled at the thought.
"What?" she asked when she caught Sasha staring at her.
"Nothing." Sasha said quickly. He politely motioned for her to join him on a nearby couch.
They sat in silence for a moment. Payson racked her brain for something to say. When had talking to Sasha become so hard? She never used to have this problem. Luckily, Sasha spoke up first.
"What brings you here – not that I'm not happy to see you." He added quickly. "I am. It's great to see you, Payson."
"I wanted to apologize." She said, cutting directly to the core in her usual Payson fashion. "I understand why the girls are angry – I really do – but that doesn't justify their treatment of you today. I hope things will get better. In the meantime, I wanted to assure you that there is peace between us…at the very least."
Sasha exhaled some tension. "That's nice to know, Payson."
She smiled, revealing the dimples he remembered well. With the way things had been going so far this week, Payson hadn't had much of an opportunity to show them off.
"You know…" Sasha started curiously. "I'm interested to know why you aren't mad too? Why are you here and not the other girls?"
Payson paused. She knew the real answer, but she wasn't about to tell him. What would she say? Well, Sasha, I'm secretly afraid that you leaving the Rock was all my fault and currently my guilt outweighs any traces of bitterness.
No, that wouldn't do.
"I promised my mom I'd be nice to you."
The joke was lame (though true), but it was preferable to her real answer. Sasha laughed out loud. He could just picture Kim Keeler begging her daughter to treat him nicely.
"Also," Payson continued with a faint blush. "I have something I need to return to you."
She dug through her purse momentarily, carefully extracting a wrapped up artifact from its depths. Sasha's eyes widened.
"Is that my -?"
"Gold medal." Payson finished. "Yes, it is. It was in my duffle bag and I thought I'd finally return it to its rightful owner."
She held it out to him, but he didn't take it.
"No," Sasha said, shaking his head. "You keep it. Really, I insist. It's more yours than mine now, anyway. Plus, I have three others."
Payson's face twitched momentarily, but she couldn't hold back her laughter for long. She finally snorted as her assumement took over.
"Sasha…" she said, calming down and taking a deep breath. "that was either really sweet or really conceited."
Sasha burst out laughing too. It was hard not to after he realized the full arrogance of his statement. Plus, Payson's laughter was rather infectious.
As if by magic, the rigid and polite formality of their reunion crumbled and they were once again Sasha and Payson – pure and simple. Sasha immediately relaxed into the ease of their interaction. He'd almost forgotten how natural talking to Payson Keeler felt.
"Wow…" he said. "Truly I didn't mean it that way…"
"I know, Sasha."
He paused and locked eyes with her, feeling better than he'd felt all day.
"Are you hungry?" he asked abruptly, letting his impulses take over.
"Uh…starving, actually."
"Good, because I'm taking you out." Sasha grabbed his coat from a nearby chair and took her hand to lead her to the door. Payson felt her body react to their first physical contact in years, but she wasn't sure he'd taken note of the milestone.
"Where?"
'Somewhere with real drinks and real food – none of that champagne and French crap from the hotel."
"Hmmm…" Payson said closing her eyes dreamily. "I think I could do that..."
Several hours later, empty plates and glasses littered the small circular table between Payson Keeler and Sasha Belov. Sasha had taken his former gymnast (now of legal drinking age) to his favorite pub in New York. He hadn't been there in years, but it didn't take him long to remember the spot. He proceeded to order them rounds and the best worst pub food that Payson had ever seen.
"Eat up." He ordered playfully. "You can have this stuff now."
Payson laughed and grabbed a crispy, golden fry. "You don't have to tell me twice…"
It surprised Payson how quickly they fell back into their usual dynamic. At the beginning of the day they'd been staring at each other form across a studio. Now, they were each two beers down and completely caught up with one others' lives. Sasha told Payson all about his temporary retreat into the California wilderness and the relationship he was trying to mend with his father. Payson told Sasha all about her family and slow-paced, but happy life in Boulder, Colorado.
"It's hard to believe that you're still there…" Sasha said, half smiling.
Payson threw her napkin on the table. "Everyone keeps saying that! What's so wrong with staying in Boulder?"
"There's nothing wrong with it!" Sasha clarified. "I'm sure people are just surprised that you didn't move away after winning your gold medal."
She furrowed her brow. "Why would I do something like that?"
Her naïve perspective on this was almost adorable. Sasha knew very well how strange Payson's life choices looked to outside observers. After all, each of her former teammates had moved on to bigger and "better" things. For Payson Keeler, her reward had always been the win and not the spotlight. The thought of capitalizing on it hadn't crossed her mind. Sasha liked her all the better for it.
"I am writing a book." she explained, as though justifying her quiet life. "That's something, at least."
Sasha leaned forward with interest. "Really? Can I see this book."
"No!" she cried, smiling at his boyish curiosity. "You'll have to buy it like everyone else."
"You're so ungrateful."
"Indeed." Payson joked. "But at least I'm speaking to you, right?"
Sasha smiled faintly, but couldn't completely hide his disappointment. Payson's heart sank and she quickly regretted her joke. She could tell that a part of Sasha still wished that there were three other young ladies with them at the table.
"They'll come around." She said, as if reading his mind. "You'll see."
"And if they don't?"
Payson sighed. "They will. We all missed you, Sasha. Emily, Lauren, and Kaylie wouldn't be so mad if they didn't. Trust me."
"I never intended to ruin the week." He said.
"Of course not."
"I just…I wanted to see you all. If I had to do it through some stupid television show…then so be it."
He grabbed his pint glass and drained the small bit left. Payson gently placed her hand over the one he'd left on the table top. "We all chose to be here, Sasha." she reminded. "Do you think everyone would've agreed to this is we didn't want to be together on some level?"
He looked into her blue eyes. They were filled with a kind, mature sincerity. A sense of thankfulness suddenly swept over him. Payson Keeler was here comforting him and he wasn't completely sure he deserved the attention.
"Thanks for the perspective, kid." He said with a smile.
Payson internally winced at his last word, but she didn't let it show. Sasha raised his hand and motioned for the bar tender to bring them another round. After their fresh beverages were in front of them, Sasha raised his up ceremoniously.
"To the past…" he said, clinking the glass to hers.
…and the future." Payson added, sipping the stout with her eyes locked on her old mentor.
a/n - Again, sorry for the infrequent updates! It appears that insomnia has cured my writers' block. Now, how do I cure the insomnia...?
As always, feedback both helpful and appreciated! =)