Knock You Off Your Feet

My parents had dropped us off at the entrance to the village, leaving me and Shaun with a bit of a walk to get to our rooms. I had a few questions I wanted to ask him, and I figured now would be the best time to do so. I took a deep breath in preparation and turned to face him. He was scuffing his shoes along the ground, staring at the pavement passing underneath our feet.

“You okay, Spaz?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He looked up for a moment, staring at the glowing Olympic rings, and then resumed his previous activity.

“You’re not ‘fine’, Spaz. What’s wrong? Was it something my parents did? Was it something I did?” I placed my hand on his forearm and stopped him. “Is it because I hugged Alexandre?”

“No,” he snorted. “That’s so far from it.”

“Is it because I kissed you?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong, Shaun?”

He stared at his shoes. “I feel… guilty.”

“Guilty about what?”

“Guilty about cheering for you instead of Lindsey. Guilty about hoping you’d take home gold instead of my own friggin’ teammates.”

I sighed in relief. “Oh, that’s all this is about? C’mon, Shaun, don’t feel that way.”

“I can’t help but feel this way.”

“There are those two figure skaters,” I said as he began to walk away. “They’re in two different pairs, but they still go out and don’t feel guilty.”

“They’re both on the same team, though. So it’s not like they’re hoping for someone else to beat them.”

“Shaun, listen. You’re on Team USA. That’s great. I’ll be cheering for you when you step up to the halfpipe. I don’t care that I’m on Team Canada. Nobody is gonna tell me I can’t cheer for one of my best friends here. And if they try to, I’ll just tell it to them straight – I barely know anybody on my own snowboarding team. I don’t let myself get involved with people that have the chance to steal something away from me, because in the past, they’ve rubbed it in my face. And I’m letting myself get involved with you because you wouldn’t – and couldn’t – do that.” I turned his face to look at me. “They can never tell you that you shouldn’t cheer for someone you care about. Alright? Screw all this team stuff. We’re all here competing for something, and 90% of the time, the glory we get is individual. Don’t let the colors you wear interfere with a friendship.”

He nodded and hugged me. “I know, I know, but there’s always gonna be some nagging guilt when I cheer for someone who’s competing against someone on my team, right?”

“Just don’t let it interfere. It’s fine that it’s there.” I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in that heavenly scent. “I never did give you your sweatshirt back, did I?”

He laughed. “Keep it. I’m supposed to wear my Burton one anyways.”

We reached the door to his building a little while later, and I stopped to say goodnight.

“Hey, Casey. If me and Scotty do well tomorrow, and by well, I mean medal, we’re gonna have a big party. And I was wondering if you’d wanna come. I mean,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “it’s pretty much for everybody. But I just thought I’d let you know. That’s if we medal.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you’re taking home gold.”

“So I’ll see you there?”

“I’ll be at the bottom of the halfpipe, waiting for you.” I smiled. “You know, to return the favor.”

He was positively beaming by now. “Thanks, Squirrel.”

“Anytime, Spaz. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.”