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The app . . . The app I’d used to track him the night he’d gotten drunk and lost in Sapporo. I pulled up the app, tapped Ren’s name . . . The circle said he was somewhere outside the city. I zoomed out.

The airport. He was at the damn airport!

It was an hour from the Olympic Village, in traffic.

And I had no idea how much of a head start he’d had. Enough that housekeepers were clearing his room. Enough to call Dame Ashborne while he’d been on his way out.

going to aorpirt

I sent too fast to Zoe to correct the errors, and bolted down the stairs.

He might already be on a plane.

No, he had to turn his phone on before getting on the flight, didn’t he? He had to see my messages.

He couldn’t go.

He couldn’t do this.

Why was he doing this?

Pride, honor, shame. All of the above.

Goddamn him for being such a fucking gentleman.

I boarded the shuttle bus again and rode it to the main gate. Zoe was texting me, Coach Miles was texting me, my phone rang and rang again, but none of it was Ren.

I waited outside the Village for the cab, chewing on my thumbnails and shivering in the cold. I’d forgotten my damn coat and had no plan, other than to find him and stop him. He couldn’t leave. He had to be here. This was his dream too. Fuck his father. Goro didn’t get to take this from Ren. He’d already taken so much—his freedom, his love, his passion. No, I wouldn’t let him go. I wouldn’t let him do this.

turn on ur damn phone

I hate u

I didnt mean that

maybe I do, riht now, bceuaae this is so u

why are u like this?

u cant leave

I have to dance against u

it wont be the same

I want you here

I love you . . . I typed that last one and stared at it without hitting send. My thumb hovered over the button. I didn’t hesitate because it wasn’t true. It was true and real and the most honest thing I’d ever felt. But telling him over text was wrong. He’d think I was saying it to get him to stay.

The cab arrived. I climbed in and barked at the driver to head for the airport. I could only hope we didn’t hit traffic, hope he hadn’t already gone through security, hope he wasn’t already on a flight to London.

I had to get to him.

He had to be at the Games; it was where he belonged.

He just needed to dance for him.

THIRTY-TWO