A/N: the longly awaited 36th chapter. Here we go, sorry for the delay!
Chapter 36- Love's Pace
"Your parents seem nice," Michelle remarked to Jacques in the former's apartment. Jacques had his arm wrapped around Michelle's shoulders on the sofa and had casual conversation while the TV played a movie in the background. Jacques hummed in agreement, or perhaps he wasn't really listening. To be fair, the meeting yesterday did go fairly well - a lot better than he expected it to be since his parents held the belief that Michelle was a passing phase to realize he was secretly in love with his ice dancing partner.
Which he wasn't, thank you very much.
He just hoped Michelle didn't notice.
"But I don't think they like me," Michelle admitted, then reconsidered: "I shouldn't say that, but they seemed a little distant?"
Damn it.
"You're my first girlfriend," said Jacques. "They're not used to me having a girlfriend." Well, he wasn't completely lying - his parents weren't used to a girl being around him like Josèe was with him; not that they were ever romantically involved.
Ugh. Why did it always have to circle back to her?
"I guess that's true," Michelle agreed, though she appeared looked back at his girlfriend, who was staring back at the television.
Jacques liked Michelle. She was a lot more predictable and he could keep up with her. She rarely changed her mind on things and was more laid back. She didn't like to argue and preferred to spend time watching those romance movies that she would gush about. Jacques decided she was the romantic type and put emphasis on things like flowers, chocolates, and other gestures that she found romantic. Jacques supposed most girls liked that, but he never recalled Josèe talking about things like that.
...Not that Jacques was comparing Michelle to Josèe, of course.
He would never do such a thing.
...Though Jacques couldn't help but think Josèe was more upfront in her speech, and loved to engage in arguments over things that immensely bothered her, and she wasn't the most romantic type. Jacques could remember when Josèe found plays like Romeo & Juliet dumb because "it's a pointless love story that took place in three days," as she put it. As much as he and Josèe fought, the one thing that Josèe could never do was bore him, and as awful as it sounded, sometimes Michelle got a little boring.
Josèe was combative and impulsive, while Michelle was compliant and thoughtful. Josèe wasn't the best with words, but she would always have a witty remark reserved for him. Michelle chose her words precisely on what was needed in the situation. Their languages were completely different, and it made Jacques wonder how he could fall for two people with these differences, but then stopped himself - because again, he obviously wasn't comparing them at all.
Michelle had loose raven curls that went down to her waist and despised putting her hair up for dance class. Josèe had brown hair that resembled cocoa that she loved putting up because it kept away from her face - though Jacques couldn't help but notice that one stupid strand of hair that managed to escape the medium length ponytail she had - and when Josèe did leave her hair down, it roamed freely around her shoulders and that's when Josèe would be at her most relaxed. Jacques never realized how symbolic that was.
...Damn it, he was comparing them.
"Jacques."
He promised that he wouldn't.
"Jacques..."
After all, he was only doing what Josèe asked him to do.
"Jacques!"
The ice dancer snapped out of his thoughts to see his girlfriend staring at him in concern. "Sorry," he mumbled lamely. "I'm just thinking."
Michelle eyed him skeptically. "About?"
Obviously Jacques wasn't going to tell her the truth; he was going to lie, he had been getting increasingly good at that this past year. "I'm thinking about..." he smirked at her. "I am thinking about moving to the bedroom after this movie is over."
Michelle quirked a brow in amusement. "Is that what you've been thinking about this entire time?" No, but... he wouldn't exactly mind it at the moment.
"Oui," Jacques said cheekily.
"God, I'm starting to think my maman was right," started Michelle, "This is all men think about."
"...She's not exactly wrong-"
"Jacques," Michelle cut in sternly, though unable to hold back a smile. "Do you want to go now?"
Jacques immediately perked up. "Maybe." He was met with a pillow thrown in his face. "Hey!"
"We have plenty of time, don't we?" Michelle remarked suggestively.
"For a bit," Jacques answered. "I promised to meet Josèe in an hour."
"...Oh." Michelle's expression was unreadable, then shrugged. "Okay then."
Jacques quirked a brow. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no! It's fine," said Michelle, then smiled as if to prove it. "I absolutely understand."
"Are you sure?" Jacques asked. Something told him that the way she reacted suggested otherwise.
Michelle hesitated for a moment, the smile disappearing, before reappearing again with a fond rolling of her eyes. She grabbed her boyfriend's hand and dragged him to the bedroom. "We better hurry then, oui?" Jacques smiled a little and eagerly followed her.
Josèe slid off the rink with ease and made her way to the locker room. She and Jacques didn't have a class to teach today so she spent time practicing her skills across the ice. Much later, she was planning on meeting Jacques for a full session to practice their ice dancing. For now, she was taking a break and planning to take a trip before she would meet with Jacques to practice.
Josèe liked to think that things would get better, as in, her little (or really, quite big) crush on Jacques would diminish over time, but she found that it was beginning to get in the way of her work. It especially was difficult when she and Jacques had to get up close and personal - where their faces were inches apart and she couldn't help but remember that damn kiss that started all of this, though one could argue that these feelings started before that. She thought her crush would disappear, when she couldn't even forget about a kiss that happened a long time ago, that it would keep her awake on some nights still - no, the crush had only intensified.
Josèe would've found it amusing if it wasn't so annoying, and since Jacques was taken, it was almost painful, too. She managed to be okay around Michelle, but there were days where she would be nauseated by the sight of her - but she kept her promise to not throw a tantrum over it. Jacques was able to get over it, so Josèe figured she could as well.
But on some nights, Josèe wanted to scream into a pillow.
Before she could leave the rink, a voice from behind her interrupted gently: "Is everything alright?"
Not startled, Josèe turned around and gave Isaac a curt nod. "Sort of."
Isaac shot her a skeptical look. "Really? Because I've been trying to call your name for the past minute and you hadn't answered."
Josèe hummed a little to herself. "I was planning on visiting my mother's grave, so..." It wasn't a lie. She really was planning on it, and she would still get a little antsy over visiting her constantly.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Isaac asked her.
Josèe glared at her coach. "I fail to see how that's your business."
"You always end up getting upset when you go, which is usually before every practice," Isaac reminded her. "Maybe it's best to space out your visits to her."
"How do you know I visit her before every practice?"
"Your eyes are always red and you look like you aged significantly," Isaac said honestly. "Now most people would say that you got into an illegal substance, but I know you wouldn't dare - especially considering..." Isaac let it hang there. Josèe bit the inside of her cheeks to keep herself composed. "But your visits are getting concerning."
Josèe rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't be saying this if you didn't despise my mother, just like everyone else did..." she spat. It still disgusted her; even the dead weren't exempt from criticism - they ought to be, at least her mother should be. She looked away from him, in favor of staring at the floor. She swallowed a lump in her throat. "People always had something to say... they still do."
"But it's been almost four months. You keep going back to her... why?"
Josèe cursed herself when she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Isaac was right, it had been many months, yet she would still react like this. She made sure her back was facing him and let out a shuddering breath and roughly wiped her eye that threatened to let a tear slip.
No one understood this. She couldn't even understand it.
After a few seconds, Josèe faced her coach with a defeated irritated glare, and muttered: "...What else is there for me?"
Beat.
Isaac looked appalled, but then resorted to a neutral expression. "Please don't give up," he said softly. "You have a whole career ahead of you-"
"Do I?" Josèe questioned. "Do I really?" It was a fair question. Josèe didn't have Jacques in the way that she wanted, she didn't have Rachel, and well, if Jacques kept things up with Michelle, would Josèe even have a partner anymore? Would she be allowed back into the ISU to be able to compete in the olympics even as a single skater? Josèe didn't even give Isaac a chance to answer. "Exactly. Now..." Josèe forcefully shut her eyes as her stomach churned; the thought of her mother knowing about all of this happening made her sick. Between her being banned from this season, her feelings for her Jacques, and how she was losing control. "I need to go visit my mother, thank you."
Josèe liked to think that once she got there that she would be composed; that she would prove Isaac wrong that she wouldn't get hysterical at her mother's grave. She wouldn't go hug her mother's grave like a baby, she obviously wasn't going to do that anymore - and her mother would surely be disappointed. If Josèe was going to live while her mother unfortunately had to die, then she would have to live the way she would've wanted her too - it didn't matter what anyone else thought. Josèe thought she would be fine.
She was wrong.
Once she got to her mother's grave, the tears spilled.
"Je suis désolé!" Josèe sobbed miserably, falling to her knees. She didn't care that her pants would get dirty. "I tried... I tried my best not to feel anything for him, but I can't help it, and it hurts badly and I know it disappoints you... because it's getting in the way of my ice skating and I know I'm just an échec like you always say!" She let her tears soak the grass that occupied her mother's gravestone. "You always told me not to be stupide... and all I've ever been was stupide... sometimes I wish it had been me instead."
And that was the root of it. Josèe hated to be alone. Even if she didn't have feelings for Jacques in the past, at least he was always there for her - at least he prioritized her. She was the number one girl in his life, and, now Josèe swore she could feel it changing because of Michelle. What made Josèe feel worse was that she knew she should've been happy as a best friend, at least - that he was happy.
Jacques was wrong. Josèe knew she was the most selfish being alive.
Therefore, in her mind, she deserved to be alone.
Karma.
Josèe sniffled, seeming to have calmed down, that was until she looked at her mother's grave again.
That's when Josèe couldn't take it; she hugged it tightly and wept more.
Jacques smirked as Michelle's giggling filled the bedroom as he pelted her with kisses on her neck. Michelle was wearing one of Jacques' hoodies, grinning in delight as Jacques continued to kiss her. Some point around the time they spent together they had clothes back on. Well, at least partially - Jacques still didn't have a shirt on, but he figured that Michelle wouldn't mind. Michelle leaned back into Jacques' touch and kissed him back passionately - oh, she definitely didn't mind.
A few minutes later though, Jacques shot up from Michelle's bed. "Wait, how long have we been here?"
Michelle's grin widened and caressed Jacques' jaw. "A while... time flies when you're having fun."
Jacques, however, wasn't really paying attention. He scanned the bed looking for his phone, and when he found it, he had seen how much time had passed and how oddly enough he hadn't gotten a message. "Josèe was supposed to text me to meet up for practice."
Michelle's grin disappeared and shrugged. "Maybe she forgot."
Jacques looked offended at the thought. "Josèe never forgets about practice." He was about to call her up, until Michelle gently put her hand over his.
"You could always call her later," Michelle suggested. "She would've called you if it was important."
Jacques thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head and proceeded to call Josèe. "Non, something isn't right."
The phone rang, awaiting for the person on the other line to pick up. After only three rings, Josèe answered hoarsely: "...What?" It didn't sound right, Jacques thought. It sounded like Josèe had been crying.
"Are you at the rink?" Jacques asked; he figured he wouldn't ask right away if she was alright.
Josèe's response was slightly delayed. "...Non."
"Weren't we supposed to practice?" Jacques asked again, gentler this time.
"...Oui. Oui. I'll meet you there."
Jacques knew when Josèe was trying to hide her tears, with the way her voice cracked on at least two of her words. She wasn't fooling him. He knew of her routine, he should've realized this sooner. "You're visiting your maman, aren't you?"
"Non," Josèe said, far too quickly. "I'll meet you at the rink. I'm not at the-"
"Josèe, I'll be over at the cemetery soon."
"But I-" Josèe stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh. Jacques must've realized that she had realized that there was no use arguing with him. Jacques hung up at once and scanned the floor for his shirt, which he found and threw on quickly.
"Are you sure you have to go?" Michelle asked hesitantly. Jacques turned around to his girlfriend frowning with her arms crossed. "It sounds like if she's with her mother then... then she would want to be left alone, anyway."
Jacques pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I'm her best friend, she needs me."
"Oh..." Michelle remarked, after some time. "That's fine, I guess." She looked resigned.
Jacques bit his lip guiltily; he didn't think she would look so upset over it. He sighed, then leaned into kiss her lips one final time and offered a small smile. "I'll make up for it, I promise." Michelle offered a small smile back, however it looked incredible weak. "Tomorrow?"
Michelle nodded once. "Oui. I'd love to. Maybe you could stay over tomorrow too?"
"Mais oui," was Jacques' answer. He saw his girlfriend's face light up a bit. "I'll see you tomorrow."
That being said, Jacques made his way out of Michelle's apartment and went to the cemetery that he was sure that Josèe was at. He was right. He was always right when it came to Josèe's whereabouts, she just couldn't lie to him if her life depended on it. It was that inkling, with the way she sounded distraught that gave it away - she would only sound this distraught when it came to her mother; and she still hadn't found a healthy way to grieve it. It was almost as if she would benefit from seeing a therapist-
...No. She would never agree to that, and he would never agree to that either - the way they saw it, therapy was for people who sought out participation medals.
Josèe and Jacques weren't those types of people.
But he found Josèe where he always did; at her mother's grave, hugging it desperately.
"Josèe..." Jacques started to say, but Josèe cut him off.
"Why did you show up?" Josèe said softly. "Weren't you with Michelle?"
Jacques winced; seeing Josèe all wide-eyed and distraught always tugged at his heartstrings. "Because I knew you weren't at the rink, and we were supposed to practice. Michelle understands that."
"Jacques-"
"You can't keep doing this to yourself, chouchou."
Josèe let out a breath. She stopped hugging the gravestone and sat crosslegged in front of it. Jacques felt a chill fill the area; or perhaps he was imagining it. Maybe it was the fact that it was Josèe's mother's grave that made him especially superstitious. Nonetheless, Jacques hesitantly sat next to Josèe, glancing over to see that she was now hugging her knees to her chest. Jacques' eyes flickered back to the gravestone and waited patiently for her to speak first. He knew that she would speak eventually. But for the first few minutes, it was spent in unbothered silence.
"It feels like an obligation." Jacques finally looked at his partner who whispered that. It was almost like a confession of some sort. Josèe's eyes were averted to the grass which she had begun picking at. Jacques didn't interrupt. Instead, he waited for her to continue, which she did: "Going to her grave all the time. I feel like I owe her everything. I only have her voice in my head left, and it just won't go away and that brings me here. I just feel nothing and everything at the same time, and that doesn't even make sense."
"No, it does make sense," Jacques interjected quietly. "That's how I felt when Bernadette died. I think... there's this term she used... something about psychology..." If he wasn't so concerned for Josèe, he would've smirked at her rolling her eyes at the mere mention of psychology. "I think she called it detachment."
"Detachment?" Josèe echoed, then shook her head in disbelief. "No. This isn't detachment. I still feel lost without her... but it's the feeling of not having anything else for me, that it's time to give up, because why bother? But it hurts so much to think about... god, I sound like a mental patient. Maybe I'm just insane. No, I've always been insane-"
"Mon petit chou, breathe for me," Jacques cut in gently. Josèe did so, letting out a shallow breath. She had started to ramble again, and Jacques knew that it would eventually turn into her panicking. Luckily, they were able to stop it in time. "You're not insane, don't call yourself that."
"Well I'm not exactly normal, am I?" Josèe questioned. Jacques didn't immediately dispute the point. "I'm all kinds of screwed up... and the race didn't help."
"Josèe," Jacques began, offering a small grin. "Even before the race... when have we ever been normal?"
That earned a little chuckle from Josèe. "You're a moron."
"Ah, but I got you to smile, didn't I?" Jacques remarked. He was right, Josèe was still smiling despite her tear stained face. "You're not screwed up... you're just going through something... you were there for me when Bernadette died. I was going through it, you saw. We'll get through these things together. You know why."
Josèe smiled a little more. "We're the perfect team."
"Mais oui - oh..." Jacques had cut himself off in surprise, as Josèe had leaned into Jacques' arm, face first. He adjusted himself at once so she would feel more comfortable, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a hug. Jacques could feel Josèe's breath pattern changing. He raised his eyebrows to find that Josèe wasn't sobbing like he expected when she leaned into him, but breathing evenly and comfortably - like she was trying to take in his scent.
Josèe pulled away after several seconds, smiling gratefully. "Merci, Jacjac."
"...It's no problem, chouchou," Jacques uttered, unsure of what to make of this. "Do you want to head to the rink now?"
For some reason, Josèe appeared hesitant. "I kind of want to go back to the apartment," she admitted. "Do you want to practice after dinner, maybe?"
"Sure," Jacques said. It felt a little strange that Josèe wanted to practice at another time rather than now. But maybe she was just exhausted and wanted to relax for a bit, and maybe ice dancing could be stressing her out - it reminded her of her mother, of course. Whenever she would breakdown she would grow tired, anyway. Josèe and Jacques left the cemetery and got back to their apartment. They didn't utter a single word to each other on the way there, not that either of them minded.
Once they got back, Josèe didn't waste a single second. She rushed into her bedroom and locked the door behind her. Jacques frowned deeply and knocked on it softly. "Josèe?"
"Jacques, can I just be left alone?" Josèe pleaded quietly.
Jacques slid down the door and sighed. He let a few seconds pass, before asking: "Are you sure, Josèe?"
"S'il te plaît..."
"Okay, then. If that's what you want," Jacques remarked.
Beat.
"Jacques, I know you're still there."
Jacques cleared his throat awkwardly. "Oh, right. Sorry." He got up and left her alone. Not even two minutes later did Jacques' cell phone buzz, indicating a new message. He expected it to be from Michelle - she texted him often - but found that it was his father, who hardly texted at all and preferred to call. Jacques checked his phone, which read:
Call me.
Jacques rolled his eyes.
Of course.
He did so, ringing up his father's number. "You know, papa, you could've just called me first-"
"Where are you right now?"
Jacques blinked at being cut off, before answering: "At my apartment... why?"
"Come home. We need to talk."
The ice dancer's eyebrows shot up. "What?"
"You know... father and son things..."
Jacques huffed. "Did maman put you up to this?"
The man on the other line hesitated. "Um... uh... look, she's not wrong about these things..."
Jacques let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine." That being said, he hung up. Before he could leave, he made sure to stop by Josèe's bedroom door, which was still locked. "Josèe, I'm leaving for a little bit. I should be back to cook us dinner."
"...I'm not hungry, anyway," Josèe muttered from the other side.
"Non, Josèe. You have to eat something." Jacques knew better than to let Josèe slip back into old habits. "I can make your favorite?"
It was quiet for a few seconds, then: "...Okay."
Jacques smiled in relief. "Call me if you need anything, chouchou." He waited a little bit for a response, which he didn't get. He assumed that Josèe would be okay, and left the apartment. She probably just really needed the space, anyway.
Josèe waited patiently until she was sure that she heard the front door close. She got out of her bed and slowly unlocked the door and opened it, peeking and looking around to see if Jacques had lied about leaving, and then returned back to her bedroom under the covers. Josèe was facing her pillow, and let out a muffled scream into it and kicked the bed; something she hadn't done since she was a young teenager.
Josèe knew she wasn't completely over today's events; and deep down, she knew that it was highly unlikely she would get over this. Her mother was a complicated and sore subject that tore her apart, and she hated that any recent thought that had to do with her mother had negative aspects. It started back at the reunion when all those stupid contestants told her that being locked in a closet wasn't normal. If only they all knew that she died; then they would have a bit more respect.
...MacArthur knew that Josèe's mother died, and had been sympathetic. Josèe couldn't believe that she had mentioned that to her arch enemy.
Former arch enemy, Josèe mentally corrected. Then she frowned; she couldn't be too sure. Josèe really hadn't thought much of the former contestants of the race; maybe an occasional text from Tom and Jen here and there, but there was nothing like keeping in close contact with everyone. Perhaps it was for the best, anyway. She should've known that no one would want to keep in contact with her.
...God, her brain wouldn't shut up. She went from thinking about her mother to thinking about the race, which lead to her thinking about her mother again.
Then she thought about Jacques. Though Josèe talked about wanting to feel that 'spark' with someone, she wished it hadn't been with Jacques. Speaking of feeling connections, feeling these 'sparks', she had noticed a pattern with Claude, Jacques, and she could even count Rachel - they were all of her friends first, and it took years. All of her friends would just find someone attractive right away, and that they developed a crush on them quickly - they didn't even have a friendship first.
It felt abnormal.
Josèe sighed deeply.
Suddenly her phone began to ring. Little did Josèe know, it was as if a higher being was reading all her thoughts and have come to give her the answer. Josèe squinted at the unknown number, hesitating to answer it at first - it could be a crazed person from the race shouting empty threats, or one of their crazy fans. Bracing herself, Josèe picked up the phone and cut in before the other person on the line could, "Look, if you threaten us we'll press charges-"
"Josèe, Josèe! It's only Kitty! Remember? From the race." Josèe blinked, hearing the bubbly girl's voice. "You gave me your number, remember? God, I'm so sorry that I couldn't call you sooner about this... university has been insane lately."
"I... gave you my number?" Josèe questioned.
"Yeah! At the reunion! When you said you had questions about yourself!"
Josèe paused, then her eyes went wide and her heart stopped.
Shit.
"Oui! I mean, yes!" Josèe shot upright in her bed and clutched her phone tightly as if her life depended on it. "I remember that."
"Yeah! By the way, Emma says hi - oh stop it Emma, you need to be more friendly! I'm doing you a favor!" Josèe blinked multiple times, waiting for Kitty to return to their phone call, which she did: "Sorry about that. Emma's life revolves around Noah now, so she can't even think to think about others - I said what I said, Emma! We all know it's true!"
Josèe could feel the corners of her lips twitching. "So she's really in love with Noah, is she?"
"You have no idea..." was Kitty's answer. "Josèe says hi back!"
"But I didn't..."
"I'm trying to make potential friendships happen! By the way, yeah, I'm sorry that I didn't get to you sooner. I had just remembered that I had your phone number when an episode of the race was on. I was watching it, the one where we went to Hawaii! That was fun, wasn't it? Anyway... I thought I'd give you a call about some answers regarding how you experience romantic attraction-"
"What did you learn?" Josèe was quick to ask.
"Josèe, remember when I mentioned the term aromantic to you?"
Josèe thought about it for a moment. "Yes. That's when you don't feel attraction."
"And remember when I told you there was a spectrum for it and that you might be on it?"
Josèe nodded quickly. "Let me guess, I'm on it."
"...I'm not going to label you," Kitty told her. "You can decide if you want to label it, because ultimately, that's up to you and how you want to present yourself. But speaking from experience, it sounds like you could be aro-spec."
"Aro-spec?"
"Short for aromantic spectrum," Kitty clarified. "Some people experience romantic attraction differently from alloromantics, which are people that fall in love what society says in a 'normal way' which is total bull. Those people who aren't alloromantic are on the aromantic spectrum. Some people don't experience it at all, like me, so we're aromantic. Some people experience it infrequently are greyromantics, which one of my friends is. And then, the term that matches up for you the closest in my opinion, is demiromantic."
Josèe frowned deeply. "Demiromantic? I don't know what that means."
"Demiromantic means you can only be romantically attracted to someone after forming a close connection with them."
"...Oh," Josèe remarked. "That definitely sounds like me, but... I thought that's how most relationships work? Wouldn't most of the world be demiromantic?"
"Nope, that's not true at all," Kitty answered. "A lot of people think that. But when you're demiromantic, it takes a lot longer. You described yourself as needing two years to feel a spark with your boyfriend, and that you had fallen in love. My friend who's demiromantic describes relationships at first as an extension of a friendship, and then falling in love with your best friend."
Josèe's eyebrows shot up.
Shit.
"Well, uh... falling in love with your best friend?" Josèe echoed, not noticing how exactly high-pitched her voice was, "I wouldn't... know anything about that, so... I don't know if this would apply at all... or-"
"Oh my god are you and Jacques together?"
"I'm sorry, what?" Josèe nearly hissed over the phone. "No. We're just friends."
"Best friends," Kitty giggled playfully. "It would make sense. You guys were so cute together at the reunion, I hadn't forgotten-"
"No, Kitty, we're only best friends," Josèe insisted.
"God, is this a Carrie Zone situation?"
Josèe rolled her eyes. "No, it's not a Carrie Zone situation. If being demiromantic is having to fall in love with your best friend, then that doesn't apply to me."
"Oh you don't have to fall in love with your best friend," Kitty told her. "It's more like, you can fall in love with your best friend. You can't fall in love with strangers, or in love with people that you've known for a short period of time. That's how you described yourself."
"...Oh," was all Josèe could say.
It fell silent between the two.
"What are you thinking?" Kitty dared to ask.
Josèe took a breath. "I don't know if I would tell people that about myself, but... it brings me a lot of comfort knowing that there's a term for what I've been feeling."
"That's all that matters," Kitty said. Silence followed again.
Josèe let out a little smile and leaned back in her bed. Part of her was happy, happy because she finally found the answer she was looking for, that there was something that could explain why the way she was, and maybe - besides Tom and Jen, of course - she found another reason to be grateful for that race. However, part of her was sad, sad because if Kitty's words were true, she couldn't find herself falling for some stranger - and if she couldn't, then she would have no one in her future, and that terrified her.
Thus, that made Josèe frown.
"Josèe, are you there?"
"Yes," Josèe was quick to say, "I'm here."
"What's wrong? You went quiet again."
Josèe let herself smile a bit again. "...Thank you, that's all."
"It's no big deal," Kitty waved off with ease, "That's what friends are for."
"Friends?" Josèe asked incredulously.
"Oh come on, Josèe. The race has been over for months. You're not still skeptical are you?" Josèe blinked in disbelief, ready to interject, until Kitty beat her to it: "I wouldn't be. No one cares anymore. I actually talk to a lot of people from the race that I didn't get along with at first, we're all pretty much friends now, and friends do these things for each other. I think we can try to be friends, or, if you feel more comfortable, we can be acquaintances and work our way up."
Though Josèe knew that Kitty probably meant well, she couldn't help but be skeptical. "All, if not most of you live in Toronto. Jacques and I are in Quebec, so it's not like we can have a connection with you guys or anything, and it's hardly likely that anyone from the competition would want to interact with us. When will there come a time where we'll all be reunited again? I hardly see that happening soon."
Kitty, to Josèe's surprise, burst into hysterical laughter. "Oh, I disagree with you on that. A reunion might be closer than you think."
Josèe raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to..."
"Sorry, Josèe! I have to go now!" Kitty exclaimed. "My annoying sister keeps calling me! Talk to you very soon, bye!"
"Wait, wait. What-" Josèe wasn't able to get a word in, as Kitty hung up on her. She pinched the bridge of her nose irritably. "And how do you know what the Carrie Zone is!?"
"Papa," Jacques greeted cordially in the living room. His father was sitting in a chair and reading a medical journal as he usually does. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"
"My shift starts later."
Jacques glanced around. "Where's maman?"
"Shopping," Hector answered. "She wanted me to speak to you."
"You told me that," Jacques said, with a roll of his eyes. "About?"
Hector put his medical journal down so he was face-to-face with his son, who had sat down on the chair opposite from him. "You and Michelle..." Jacques rolled his eyes once more, because, of course his father would be more involved with his love life now that it was with a woman. "Oh, Jacques. I would appreciate it if you didn't roll your eyes at everything I said-"
"Why does it matter?"
Hector pressed his lips together in annoyance. "That's my point. It doesn't matter. I just want you to be happy, and I'm merely curious if you're both starting to get serious-"
"Stop it," Jacques demanded evenly. "Michelle and I haven't been together for that long and you ask that, but I had been together with Nathaniel for a year and you never brought up such a question-"
"That's because you were seventeen and stupid," Hector cut in, "Like everyone is at seventeen. The brain doesn't stop developing until your twenties."
Jacques scowled. "Oui, I know that."
"I'm just asking if you had been getting serious with her. I mean, it's not uncommon to get serious in your early twenties. Your mother and I had gotten married young-"
"Married?" Jacques shrieked, looking just about to faint. This was not the jump nor conversation he expected to get into. He quickly recovered and looked at his father sternly. "First of all, you and maman didn't get married, you eloped, there's a difference-"
"Eloping is a form of marriage-
"Second of all," Jacques interrupted before his father could get another word in, "I am not interested in marrying anyone at the moment. Sometimes I wonder if I were dating a man if you would be asking these questions-"
Hector pinched the bridge of his nose. "What did I tell you about your happiness being more important? It doesn't matter what I think."
"And what you think," Jacques began stealthily, his fists clenching: "Is that you're overjoyed that I am finally dating a woman, that I finally have your approval. So now, after only dating Michelle for a few months, you're talking to me about marriage? Because she is the first girlfriend I have? Just because you and maman got married young doesn't mean I have to!"
"I never said that," Hector stated calmly, though Jacques could tell his father was losing his patience. "I'm just wondering if you were thinking about it. Your mother and I got married quickly because of outside factors and that the both of us were in a terrible, dangerous situation. I'm grateful that you won't have to go through that in order to be with the one you love."
The one you love.
Was it Michelle?
Jacques thought about it for a moment.
...He wasn't sure.
"Michelle seems like a lovely girl," Hector said. "Do her parents like you?" Jacques nodded a bit. At first, Michelle's parents thought that he was hiding the fact that he was gay - which was a common misconception that he was still getting used to - but after Jacques explained himself, Michelle's parents seemed to be tolerant. "Good. The point I'm trying to make is that you're getting older now. When I was a teenager I thought all of this was in good fun, and then I met your mother. Love at your own pace, Jacques."
Jacques couldn't help but giggle. "Love at your own pace," he echoed. "You and maman got married in your second year of university-"
"Third," Hector corrected.
"It was pretty fast papa," Jacques said amusedly.
Hector couldn't help but crack a grin. "I guess it was," he agreed. "Look at us now, though. Over thirty years..." his grin turned into a small smile. "That's why I don't care about who you fall in love with... if it gets you that feeling of being with someone for so long, and still having that feeling thirty years later... so be it."
It was quiet between the two for a while.
"Y'know I'm going to stop drinking," Hector said, out of the blue. Jacques' jaw dropped to the floor, earning a scowl from his father. "Oh come on, don't give me that look. I'll... I don't know, I'll at least cut down a lot more. Alcohol can do a lot of bad things."
Jacques didn't mean for it to slip out, but it did: "Like what your papa did to you?" Once it did, Hector shot him a skeptical look.
His father didn't appear to be offended. "Oui. Exactly like that."
"But you never hit us, not once," Jacques insisted.
Hector shook his head. "Not true. I did hit you once, you just don't remember." Jacques blinked slowly; he didn't know what to make of this revelation. Luckily, he didn't have to ask any questions, as Hector began to explain, with a twinge of guilt in his eyes: "Do you remember Gabrielle telling you that you were in a frozen state for a while? This was after Bernadette died." Hector waited for a response, but only got a meek nod. Jacques didn't remember being frozen in place. He remembered almost throwing himself in front of a train, and then the next thing he remembered was Josèe by his side comforting him. Hector continued, "We didn't know what to do. We thought we had lost you too, so... I tried to get you back by slapping you across the face once but you didn't respond. It was a last resort before Gabrielle got Josèe. If that didn't work then..." he trailed off.
But Jacques knew what he meant. "...Is this what Gabrielle meant by me getting hospitalized?" he asked meekly.
"...Yes."
Beat.
Jacques let out an exhale. "Papa, you didn't mean to. That was a while ago, and... what else could you have done?"
"Yeah, well..." Hector trailed off awkwardly and shrugged. "I just need to lay off the stuff anyway. Or else they'll send me to a shrink," he joked at the end.
"That would be crazy," Jacques remarked, smirking good-naturedly. "As if we don't have enough problems." Oddly enough, this was the best conversation he and his father had.
Josèe tapped her pencil roughly against the desk in the living room. Here she was, ready to sketch out some costume designs yet she didn't have a clue of where to start.
Jacques was better with these things, she thought.
Then she cursed under her breath. Part of the reason why Josèe was sketching out costume designs was that she was determined to not think about Jacques, and already she was failing. Jacques was also the 'hands on' skater compared to the two of them; he was better with blade sharpeners, costume designs, and fixing things in general. Josèe knew her talents were on the ice itself while Jacques took a hands on approach to things.
Stupid Jacques.
Speaking of...
Jacques appeared in the door frame looking slightly disheveled. Josèe almost grinned at the sight of his hair all over the place, and when he ran his hand through it messily she desperately tried to hide her grin because he was just so-
Josèe stopped.
So annoying, was what she was thinking.
Really.
Josèe suddenly grew very cold and avoided her partner's eyes, focusing on her sketch - or lack thereof. "So I'm assuming you were by Michelle's."
"Non, I was by my papa's. It was windy when I left."
Josèe looked up. "He asked you to stop by?"
"Oui. It was a nice talk. He said he was going to stop drinking."
"You're joking," Josèe could barely hide her gasp. She was utterly amused by the ordeal. "Stop it. You're lying."
Jacques smirked back at her. Josèe swore she felt her stomach flip. "It's true." He was such an idiot.
"Good for him, then," Josèe offered, unsure of what else to say. Her stomach was still flipping. God, it's been almost a full month. She couldn't let this continue. Quickly, she averted her eyes away again. "So was that all he spoke to you about?"
For some reason, Josèe could feel the hesitation from her partner, despite her not even meeting his eyes. "Non... that's it, really. What's new with you?"
Josèe chuckled and met his eyes again. "You wouldn't believe who called me." His eyes are pretty - oh, stop it!
"Tom? Jen?"
"Kitty."
"Kitty?" Jacques repeated incredulously. "What could she want?"
"Remember when she spoke to me about being aromantic and that there's a spectrum?" Josèe saw Jacques nod once. "Well, she finally remembered to call." Then her mind wandered off topic: "She and her sister argue an awful lot. Kitty had interrupted our conversation at least three times to yell at-"
"Josèe, you're an only child. Of course you don't understand." Josèe frowned at being interrupted. "Oh sorry, chouchou. Continue."
Chouchou...
Josèe couldn't help but smile. "As I was saying... Kitty told me about me being on that spectrum. It sounds like I am on it. She called it demiromantic."
"Demi-what?"
"I don't really understand it either, but..." Josèe's smile widened just a tad; relief flushed through her. "...it's when you have to form a strong emotional connection with someone in order to be attracted to them. I asked Kitty that wouldn't that be most normal relationships? But she explained it takes so long... like with Claude and how it took two years. You can't just fall in love with a stranger."
"That does make sense," Jacques remarked. "I just never knew there was a term for it..."
"I'm so glad there is a term for it," Josèe said happily. "After so many years, I thought there was something wrong with me."
"Josèe, there is nothing wrong with you..." Jacques said earnestly. "You just..." He thought carefully, then said: "...love at your own pace."
"...love at your own pace," Josèe echoed. She looked closely at her partner. "...That's an interesting way of putting it."
"Oui." Then Jacques began to walk to the kitchen, "I guess I should start cooking."
Josèe sighed with relief, and went back to staring at her paper. "Merci. I'm starving."
Jacques smiled as he passed by Josèe and peered over her shoulder. "Costume design?"
Josèe rolled her eyes. "A major block at the moment."
"Try calling Tom or Jen, they'll help," Jacques offered, opening one of the cabinets to gather ingredients.
"I've already gotten a call from one person from the race, I most certainly don't need another," Josèe said amusedly. Little did she know, she once again had spoken too soon. "I haven't spoken to Tom and Jen for a while now... I miss them."
Jacques quirked a brow. "So call them, chouchou." He had all the ingredients laid out in front of him.
Josèe tapped her fingers against the table. "Hm..." She glanced over to her cell phone and contemplated doing just that. "Alright, then." However, before she could even find Tom or Jen's contact name - another contact name from the race popped up, and her phone started to chime. Jacques looked over confusedly while Josèe was bewildered at the name she was seeing right in front of her. "Huh, that's funny."
"Is it Tom or Jen?" Jacques asked, moving away from the kitchen to go to Josèe.
Josèe shook her head. "No..." Without saying who it was, she answered the phone: "Allo?"
"Hi Josèe! How are you?"
The female ice dancer exchanged a look with Jacques, who had mouthed asking who was on the phone. Josèe didn't answer him directly, and instead answered the caller in question: "I'm good... How are you..." She looked at Jacques, as she added: "...Carrie?"
Jacques mouthed, "Carrie?" while Josèe waved him off and listened to her.
"I'm wonderful! So... I'm just going to get straight to it. Devin and I... well... we're going to be married in a few weeks!"
Josèe's eyes popped out of her head. "I'm sorry, what?!" Was this what Kitty meant? "You and Devin are getting married?" Jacques' eyes grew wide as saucers at the revelation. She put Carrie on speaker so Jacques would be able to hear as well. "Jacques is here too. You're on speaker. But what... you and Devin are-"
"Yes, yes, yes. I know! It's so last minute, but... I just can't wait anymore, you know?"
Jacques and Josèe exchanged a look, neither of the two knew what to say.
"C-congratulations," Josèe managed to stammer out. She was breathless. So much for loving at your own pace. "I didn't... how did... when did you two-"
"Devin proposed a week after the reunion," Carrie explained. "We just want a quick ceremony. It's going to be marvelous, and well, Devin and I actually have a favor to ask the both of you. During the reunion, we told you we would want you to fly out to Toronto in case we wanted dance lessons? Well... this is very last minute, but... can you help us be prepared just in time for the wedding?"
"I don't know, we're skating teachers. We can't just drop everything to-"
"Wait a second," Jacques interjected. "How long do you want us there for, and when?" Josèe frowned in disapproval.
"...Give us a week to learn it, and then be next week."
Jacques turned to his partner. "Josèe, they have a spring break during the time."
Josèe faltered significantly. "I don't know..."
"Besides, even if you don't do the dance, you're invited to the wedding," Carrie said.
"We are?" Josèe and Jacques asked simultaneously.
"Of course!" Carrie exclaimed, as if the ice dancers were silly. "Even if you weren't helping us with the dance, I'd still invite you. Nothing too crazy for choreography, though. Just something to learn within a few lessons."
Josèe almost snorted. "Is that even possible? For you, I mean."
"Devin and I did the tango challenge!"
"You were the last ones to complete it and you struggled immensely."
"We had such little time to learn... but with you guys we could spend time together, a lot more than the competition..."
"Are you trying to butter us up?" Josèe remarked accusingly.
"Ugh, no. I promise you, it would be a lot easier with you guys instead of that dance teacher in Argentina. So what do you say?"
"We'll do it!" Jacques cheered, before Josèe could get a word in edgewise. "Merci. For the invite, and the opportunity. We're both honored." Jacques ignored the glare Josèe was giving him. "We'll see you soon." And he took Josèe's phone and hung up. "This should be interesting." And went back to the kitchen as if nothing happened.
Josèe's frown deepened considerably. "A wedding. At her age. She's gone mad, I tell you..."
"Oh so what?" Jacques remarked with a careless shrug. "Maybe they could last. My parents did."
"Carrie and Devin are nineteen. Your parents were only a little bit older than them." Josèe shook her head in disbelief. "They're getting married so young, it hardly makes sense!"
Jacques thought about it for a moment. "To be fair... In maman's side of the family it was very normal to get married young and have children right away-"
"That's because they're mad," Josée interrupted.
Jacques scowled and crossed her arms. "Now you're sounding like my papa."
"I don't blame him. I met your family and they spoke about that American prophet - it just doesn't make sense to me. But anyway, she got out of it because it was bad for her. Still, my point stands, your parents didn't have to get married so young."
"Wow, it's like you forgot maman and papa got married because maman's family didn't approve of papa because he wasn't from her religion, so the both of them were threatened. Maybe that isn't the case for Devin and Carrie's parents. They've known each other for fourteen years, right? So they probably approve."
Josèe rolled her eyes. "It's still so ridiculous."
"Everyone loves at their own pace, chouchou, remember?" Jacques reminded her gently, with a smile. Josèe stared at him, especially his smile - gorgeous smile, really - and felt her negative attitude slip away because, that goofy smile of his was pretty contagious, especially lately. Damn him.
Loving at her own pace, and this was where it got her.
"Oui, loving at your own pace..." Josèe repeated, then watched as Jacques went back to cooking. She let her eyes linger on him a bit longer, then sighed quietly.
Hell.