Chapter Ten

I woke the next morning when Victor leapt out of bed and grabbed his cell phone. Moments later, he was out the door. I knew it was wrong. But after giving him about a minute's head start, I followed him. I didn't even try to give myself an excuse for what I was doing. I wanted to be there when Yuri broke Victor's heart so I could steal him. Filled with fear and desire, I followed Victor as he ran through the city.

They met in that park where I'd found Yuri. They only spoke for a moment. Then I saw Victor start to cry. It looked just as it should. I was ready to sweep in, to save Victor from this and finally make him mine. But then, not long after, Yuri started to cry too. And Victor kissed him. A few minutes later, I heard Yuri shout his love loud enough for half of St. Petersburg to hear. They hugged each other tight, and I could see Victor was crying but smiling. His lips formed the words that nailed the final coffin in my heart. There was no reason to watch any more of this. My heart was completely broken.

I numbly walked away. Not really thinking about it, I went to the hotel where Otabek was staying. Possibly sensing I would need him, he had extended his stay in Russia. I stood before his door. I kicked it. Then I thumped my head against it, trying not to cry. A few moments later, a sleepy Otabek came to the door. He took me in with a long glance and sighed.

As I started to break down and cry like a child, he wrapped one large, comforting hand around the back of my neck and pulled me into his arms. Even though it was against my nature, I gripped his night shirt and sobbed into it. He patted my head without saying or even asking anything. I hated to rely on anyone, but I was so grateful Otabek was there when I needed him. I was really lucky to have such a friend, though I didn't deserve him.

After a while, Otabek sat me down on the bed and asked if I wanted to talk about it. I huffed in annoyance, pretty well calmed down by now, although my eyes were still feeling puffy. "What's to talk about? I never had a chance anyway. You just got me all confused with that Odile talk…" I mumbled.

"Oh. I see," he replied. He looked away in thought. "Too bad. I thought you were really close to a breakthrough somehow. I'm sorry if I made things harder for you."

I bit my lip, my chest twinging uncomfortably, not wanting to admit that he was right. The truth was, I really had felt Odile. I'd felt her coldness and her joy. I felt that part of myself that didn't care about others. I even enjoyed it. But that wasn't the problem. The problem with Odile only came if you didn't want to be Odile all the time. Returning to Odette brought back all the consequences of one's darker self's actions.

"Whatever," I grumbled. "I'm not really blaming you."

"I'm glad you seem to be feeling better," Otabek said. "I know you really love him. It'll probably take a while to get over that feeling." I tucked my knees up to my chest and set my head between them in despair. I wasn't even sure I wanted to get over it. Otabek let out a slow breath in thought, clearly sympathizing but not having an answer for how I could do that. Eventually he said, "I don't have much experience, but I've heard a rebound romance is the quickest way."

"Rebound?" I scowled. "Right. With who?"

Otabek shrugged. "I can't tell you that. Just pick someone you don't mind being around. Have fun and don't worry about the future. Again, I'm not an expert, but I get the feeling it'll work for you."

I sighed, putting my head between my knees again. I really wasn't hopeful that, even if it would make me feel better to be with someone else, anyone would take me. The next day, Victor sent a hurried message that he and Yuri would be returning to Japan to train for the Japanese Nationals. I didn't have a chance to say goodbye, which…I was grateful for. I didn't want to see Victor, and I couldn't even think about looking Yuri in the eye right now.

I knew Otabek was only delaying his return for my sake and I started to feel guilty, but I didn't want him to go. So I imposed upon Yakov to let Otabek train with us. Strangely, the two seemed to get along. Of course, they had known one another for longer than Yakov and I had. Yakov liked that Otabek listened (for the most part), and Otabek liked that Yakov didn't discourage his honesty when he didn't want to. Otabek's firm, almost anti-ballet masculinity made him enchanting to watch. He had gotten even better since last year's grand prix. Many times, I found myself unable to look away.

For a few days after that, Otabek and I hung out together, had fun and did little else. I was so grateful he was there so I didn't have to wallow in self-pity. I didn't have to think about Victor if I didn't want to, and he never pressed me. I felt like myself again.

One night, after we had dinner, Otabek ordered wine on a whim. I narrowed my eyes at him as he first smelled it and then took a deliberate sip.

"I've seen you drink before but never seen you drunk," I commented.

He glanced up at me, but eventually shrugged. "Actually I can't drink in Kazakhstan yet, so it's more or less new to me. I do like wine and beer, but I guess I've never been drunk before."

An evil smile winded its way up my face. This spelled fun. "Let's go back to your hotel. And stop by a convenience store on the way."

Otabek took me in with a long, judging glance for a while before he tilted his head in mild confusion and then nodded. After we left the restaurant, I gave Otabek some money and waited outside the store while he got some vodka as I instructed and we headed back to his hotel room. In the room, we both sat on the floor with a bottle of vodka between us. Otabek looked at the bottle and raised his eyebrows when he saw the proof.

I giggled with delight. "You've really never had vodka before?"

He frowned at me. "You have?"

"Russians are weaned on vodka," I commented, flipping my hand dismissively.

"That can't be true," Otabek muttered, ever the straightforward, gullible guy.

"Drink, drink!"

Otabek sighed. "Well. I'm not drinking alone," he said, and briefly left the room. He returned with two glasses from the bathroom.

"Fine. I'm not worried," I said, accepting a glass and holding it out.

As he sat down again, he poured one for me and one for himself. Then he clinked his against mine with a soft, humoring smile. "Za nashu druzhbu," he said.

"Nashu druzhbu!" I replied, laughing.

We both downed the vodka in one swig. It burned down my throat pleasantly and gave an immediate kick. I sighed in satisfaction, but quickly looked toward Otabek. He closed his eyes tight for a moment. Then he opened just one. He coughed. "Okay," he said simply.

I rolled on the floor laughing, kicking my feet up in the air. I righted myself and scooted within inches of him to look closely at his face. "Think you can handle it?" I needled.

I think he was a little unsure, but he considered and nodded. "Logically, I can handle more than you."

"Hah?" I demanded, my mood souring.

Otabek shrugged. "I didn't mean any offense. I'm bigger than you. And older. And clearly I have both more fat and more muscle, so theoretically-"

I grabbed the bottle and poured us two more shots. "Let your empty glass do the talking, big man," I growled.

Otabek frowned as I handed him his glass again. "Aren't you too young to be drinking anyway?"

"To be buying it. This and that are completely different. Down the hatch," I said, clinking his glass and downing another shot.

He pursed his lip, looking at the glass and blinking rather rapidly. Nevertheless, he joined me in another shot.

I don't think very much time passed between that moment and when we were splayed out on the floor, trying to play the laughing game, half the bottle of vodka now empty. I situated my head on Otabek's stomach and he tried not to laugh. Even though he was normally so stoic, obviously drunk Otabek was a little different. I craned my neck to try to see his face and it wasn't a moment before I saw his lip twitch. He covered his mouth and looked away from me, his cheeks bright red, and I felt his stomach muscles tense. He snorted. Moments later, we both burst out laughing and I tackled him, kicking my legs gleefully.

"Okay, I failed, now you," Otabek said, pushing me away.

"You don't even know, I always win this game," I said, slurring my speech a little as I flopped over onto my back. Otabek paid no attention to what I was saying and crawled over to rest his head on my stomach. "I beat my Grandpa when I was nine. I beat Mila every time. I even beat-"

"Are you allowed to talk?"

I huffed irritably and settled down. Otabek's head was heavy, but it was a comfortable weight on my stomach. I peeked down at him to see he had closed his eyes as if he was about to fall asleep. I poked his cheek.

"No sleeping."

He snorted with laughter, flicking my hand away. I puffed up my cheeks as I tried to stop laughing and let my head settled back down. After a few minutes of silence, I realized this felt really good. I was really fond of Otabek. I was always happier when I was with him. I didn't think much as I raised my hand and stroked his hair.

"Mm…" he made a soft noise of approval, closing his eyes again.

My heartbeat increased. I felt hot all of a sudden, especially where I was touching him, but I didn't want to stop. Feeling as if I suddenly had about eight hands, I continued stroking his hair absently. I started thinking about random things, like how Otabek had always been such a good friend. He was always loyal, never questioned my feelings or pressured me to do anything I didn't want to do. Yet he tried to help me realize when I was making a mistake, and did everything he could to support me.

Not even three seconds after having this thought, my chest twanged painfully. Was I in love with Otabek?

Wait, this was stupid. I hadn't even gotten over Victor. How would I ever get through life if I fell in love so quickly? Maybe I was just horny because I was drunk. Maybe…maybe Otabek wouldn't mind that?

After all, he was the one who suggested I should have a rebound with someone. He'd been vague about it, perhaps intentionally. Someone I didn't mind being around, someone to have fun with, he said. Could he have been talking about himself? Did that mean he was into me too?

A thrill ran through my chest. The thought that Otabek might love me made my whole body feel electrified. I suddenly felt so happy just imagining it. I tilted my head a little to look down at him. His stark, noble features. A stray strand of hair crossing between his eyes. I reached down to gently brush it away. His eyes fluttered, but closed again. He trusted me and was comfortable with me. That felt so good.

I sat up on my elbows a little. "Otabek…" I said softly.

He chuckled. "Give up?"

"Huh? Oh. Sure. Hey…" I moved out from under him, letting him put his head down on the floor, and scooted down so my face was closed to his. His eyes were still closed. I watched his handsome face for a moment before I remembered I had started talking. Into his ear, I murmured "…do you want to have a different kind of fun?"

Otabek's eyes flicked open a little and his brows drew slightly together. "Hm?" he murmured.

I slipped into the space between his arm and body and leaned against him. My hand crept up his chest. His eyes opened fully and he looked at me in surprise. But – and I like to blame the alcohol for at least part of this – I didn't notice his reaction and pushed myself up to close the distance between his face and mine.

"It was your advice, right?" I asked in a sexy whisper, my lips practically touching his. "Didn't that mean you don't mind if it's you?"

Otabek's brows drew tight together, but not quite understanding what emotion was on his face, I closed the remaining distance. I kissed him deeply, caressing his face. Otabek took an inward breath of shock, but he barely moved. For an instant, his lips parted and I was able to slip my tongue inside. I felt his breath quicken and a soft noise escape him, and warmth ran through my whole body. But before I knew what was happening, I thudded against the floor, cold again.

After a delayed reaction, my shoulder started to hurt. I looked at it in surprise. That was where I'd landed. My chest too. That was where Otabek had pushed me with all his strength. I looked up at him, uncomprehending.

Otabek was sitting on the floor some distance away, panting and looking at me like I was a deadly animal. He looked at the ground and shook his head, looking confused. "No…I didn't mean that…Yuri…"

It took a couple more seconds for the realization to reach me; not only had I been wrong about Otabek, he was not interested in me, but he was so uninterested that the idea of me kissing him was apparently terrifying to him. I watched him for another moment before a tear ran down my face. My chest felt torn open. Soon one tear fell after another and I couldn't stop. I was so ashamed.

With a sob, I stumbled to my feet and ran toward the door.

"Yuri!" Otabek called after me in panic.

But I didn't care. I knew he was just worried about me, just being the good friend he always had been. The friend I would never have again. Because I'd ruined everything. How could I be so horrible? Why did everything I touch turn to ash? Why did I have to make everyone else unhappy, not just myself?