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Of course Paseka would get sick the day they arrived at the beach house. And of course she’d get better in twenty-four hours while the virus chose to unleash its full strength on Aliya next. Because “contract the plague” was at the top of Aliya’s list of things to do this week. Right after “Go on a joint vacation with the American team.”
She still didn’t see why they had to share the beach house with the Americans. Or why the Americans had to come at all, frankly. Sure, there was some business about a group rate, but the USA girls were mostly loud and ill-mannered, and all Aliya wanted to do was lie on the beach in perfect silence.
She had the lying down part pretty well managed, at least. Aliya pulled the covers over her head, avoiding the too-bright light streaming into the room, and coughed. She wanted a glass of water very badly. But there was no way she was braving the heaving sea that was the floor. Or the sonic torture of the chatterboxes elsewhere in the house.
A fresh squeal of laughter broke out in the kitchen. Somebody was talking about surfboard wax at the top of her lungs. Aliya gritted her teeth. Her head was pounding and she was simultaneously burning up and freezing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this sick. She’d trained through colds and injuries both major and minor, but she couldn’t recall actually wanting to die before.
The door flew open. “Alka, get up! We have to go rent our surfboards!”
“Not coming,” Aliya mumbled.
“What?”
“Sick.”
“Damn, really?” Masha came further into the room. Her voice seemed very loud. “Do you need anything?”
“No.”
“Alka, I know you’re literally the most stubborn person on the planet, but—”
The conversation was taxing her strength. She just wanted Masha to take her big sunny smile and plague-carrying ways and leave. “Go away.”
“What’s going on?” Komova’s voice sounded from the hallway.
“The queen bitch is cranky today. We must be cautious.”
“Go. Away.”
Only after Masha left did Aliya think about her water. And her need for blankets. And the inadequate curtains. A lesser mortal might have groaned. Aliya just coughed again and dully hoped her housemates would leave soon. Maybe then she could go back to sleep. Or die. Dying would be nice and restful.
The house was quieter now. In the distance, car doors slammed and muted voices burbled; Masha’s laugh was recognizable even at this distance. Aliya curled into a ball and waited for the end to come.
Someone knocked on her door, so quietly that Aliya thought she was hallucinating it. The door eased open.
Someone’s still here, no no no nooooo.
“Aliya? Maria told us you weren’t feeling well. I thought I would come check on you.”
“Go … surf.” Her head was spinning.
“I’m afraid I’m not a very good surfer. Oh, wow, are you warm enough?”
Aliya realized she was shivering again despite being cocooned in her blanket. “Fine.”
“Are you sure about that? You don’t look fine.” Aly was standing by the bed now.
Aliya grunted irritably. No, she patently wasn’t fine, but she didn’t like people hovering. Even when she was a child, on the rare occasions she’d been sick, all she wanted was to hole up in her room with some movies and not speak to anyone.
“Here, I’m going to get you another blanket. I’ll be right back.”
The sound of Aly’s footsteps was a counterpoint to the throbbing in Aliya’s temples. Aliya distantly pondered which she would rather have: another blanket or total silence. She still hadn’t reached a decision by the time Aly came back. Aly settled the blanket around her.
“There, is that better?”
“Ungh.”
“Oh, I’ll get you some more water too.” More footsteps, away to the kitchen and back again. “Here, can you sit up?”
Aliya made a noncommittal noise. Although she was vaguely grateful for the blanket and the water, what she really wanted was for Aly to leave. Nothing personal, of course. Aly was the one American she could tolerate. She actually liked Aly, if she was honest with herself—but that was neither here nor there at this particular moment.
“Aliya. You need to stay hydrated.”
Of course I need to stay hydrated. But if I sit up, I’ll freeze to death.
Aly didn’t give her a choice. A hand dug around in the blankets and found Aliya’s shoulder. Aly propped her up and put a glass of water into her hands. “There you go. Isn’t that better?” After chugging half the glass, Aliya was prepared to grudgingly admit that the water tasted pretty damn fantastic. But she shivered again and lost her train of thought. Aly peered at her. “You really don’t look good.”
Aliya found enough energy to glower at Aly. The Mustafina eye-lasers were clearly not at full strength, seeing as how Aly still retained corporeal form. Aly pressed the back of her hand against Aliya’s forehead. “You’re burning up. I think you might have a fever. Wait here, I’ll be back.”
“Not going anywhere,” Aliya grumbled. Aly smiled and patted her on the knee.
Fifteen minutes later, Aly had worked miracles. Aliya was nearly buried under blankets and sipping tea. Aly kept bustling around the house, digging up painkillers, a box of tissues, and some reading material.
“I’m done with these and I don’t think McKayla will care if we borrow that one.” Aly arranged some glossy gossip magazines on the bedside table with all the other supplies. “There. All set? How are you doing?”
“Sleep,” Aliya mumbled. She let her head fall forward over her mug of tea. The steam felt good. Now if only Aly would stop talking at her.
“OK. You finish your tea first, though. Call me if you need anything.”
“Mmm.”
Aliya paged listlessly through one of the magazines after Aly left, recognizing only a handful of celebrity faces. The tea had lulled her and she felt warm enough now to kick off some of the blankets. She fell asleep in blessed silence.
* * *
She awoke to a sense of disorientation and a full bladder. Her mouth tasted like something had died in it. She stumbled blearily out to the hallway bathroom and crawled back into bed as quickly as possible. She was shivering again. She wondered if there were more blankets somewhere. She pulled the covers entirely over her head but her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering.
After an age, or maybe ten minutes, she heard footsteps pause in the hallway. “Aliya? I saw you left the door open, I was just coming to … oh, no, are you cold again?”
“F-freezing,” Aliya admitted. “More blankets?”
“Honey, you’ve got every blanket in the house. Do you want more tea?”
“N-no. Want to be warm.”
“Well, tea’s pretty much the only thing I can give you.”
“Fine. Tea.” As Aly’s footsteps receded, Aliya regretted sounding so ungrateful. Having someone she barely knew taking care of her was weird, but Aly was doing it—and cheerfully—when she could have been at the beach. It was sort of nice to have someone at her beck and call.
The American perched on the edge of the bed and watched as Aliya drank. Aliya glanced up at her over the rim of her mug. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that Aly was quite pretty. “How are you feeling?” Aly asked.
“Still cold.” Aliya wrapped her hands around the mug. She felt like she should probably make some effort at a conversation that didn’t revolve around her health. “What are you doing? Feel bad you’re staying here.”
“I’ve had a really relaxing morning, so don’t feel bad. I painted my nails and watched some TV. Now I’m just watching movies on my laptop.”
“What do you have?”
“Mostly romantic comedies.” Aly sounded embarrassed. “Do you like those?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you want me to bring my computer in here? We could watch something together.”
A movie sounded like a better alternative than American gossip magazines. “OK,” Aliya said.
The temporary warmth from the tea wore off about twenty minutes into the movie. Aliya tried to control her shivering, but Aly noticed. “You’re still cold.”
“V-very,” Aliya said.
Aly paused the movie and looked at Aliya with concern. “Want to get in the shower and warm up?”
Why, are you offering? “Too tired,” she said instead. She couldn’t picture remaining standing for that long, even though the hot water would feel good.
“Um … there’s one thing I could do.” There was a flicker of uncertainty in the dark eyes, quickly hidden.
“Well?”
“You’ll have to scoot over.” Before Aliya could do much more than shift slightly in confusion, Aly lifted the covers and slid under next to her. One arm circled around Aliya’s shoulders. “There. I’ll warm you up.”
Holy shit. I’m in bed with Aly Raisman. She was suddenly aware that Aly was wearing nothing but tiny shorts, a bikini top, and a thin cover-up.
“Better?” Aly asked.
“Uhh,” Aliya said, and felt her muscles spasm in an uncontrollable shiver. Which turned out to be the right move, because Aly frowned slightly and pulled her even closer. Aliya turned onto her side, the length of her body pressing against Aly’s, and hesitantly rested her head on Aly’s shoulder. This seemed to be what Aly wanted. She rubbed Aliya’s arm approvingly and reached for the laptop again.
The movie washed over Aliya without leaving much of an impression. The fog of sickness clouding her brain inhibited any ability to follow plot or dialogue. She was aware only of what her senses registered: smooth skin, the smell of shampoo, the sound of Aly’s heartbeat, the line of her jaw. If she hadn’t been so dead tired and chilled to the bone, there was no way she would have snuggled up to Aly like this. It was far too intimate. But she had neither the energy nor the willpower to move at the moment.
The minutes passed by slowly, marked by the gentle rise and fall of Aly’s chest and her occasional giggle at something in the movie. Occasionally Aliya would shiver and Aly would stroke her arm again. Which felt … kind of nice, actually. Despite the fact that Aly was seeing her at her most vulnerable, which was something she barely let her friends and family see, much less acquaintances.
“Have to kill you later,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“Kill you later,” Aliya repeated, as if that explained everything.
“Yeah, killing and other strenuous activities are gonna have to wait a few days.”
Aliya twitched a shoulder negligently and felt the breath of a laugh on her hair. Her eyelids were getting heavy again. She was, blissfully, no longer cold. She let herself drift off into the halfway land between sleep and wakefulness, pillowed on Aly’s solid warmth.
Movement woke her. She realized that the movie’s tinny soundtrack had stopped. Aly was moving the laptop off her stomach. It seemed her heat source was preparing to leave. On instinct, Aliya shifted against Aly, trapping her with an arm. “Hrmm,” she protested.
“You want me to stay?”
“Hm,” Aliya said indistinctly. She wasn’t capable of further speech. She burrowed further into the hollow of Aly’s neck and closed her eyes.
A gentle hand stroked sweaty hair back from her temple. “OK, sweetie. Go back to sleep.”
* * *
Aliya awoke alone. The bars of sunlight had shifted on the wall. It was late afternoon. She was a little chilly again. She padded out to the bathroom once more, pausing along the way to prop herself against the wall when white static clouded her vision. I should probably eat something.
Aliya wandered around the house. Aly was not in the kitchen or the living room. Nor was she in the other bedrooms, on the back deck, or on the bench in front of the house. Feeling lightheaded and a little lonely, Aliya sat down on the couch. Strange. This morning she would have given anything to be left in peace. At some point today Aly’s presence had gone from irritant to comfort of a sort. Although the constant tea-making could get old.
She trudged back to the bedroom and took another stab at the gossip magazines, but she couldn’t concentrate. Everything seemed louder than normal. Seagulls called outside above the noise of the waves. A scooter buzzed by on the nearby street. The sound of the front door opening was a welcome interruption. Aliya hauled herself out of bed and went to see who it was. Aly was fumbling several grocery bags onto the counter and swearing quietly every time a carton or bottle made noise. Aliya tugged the blanket closer around herself and leaned against the wall. “Hi,” she said. That set off a coughing fit.
“Aliya! I thought you were sleeping.”
“Was. Woke up at 4.”
“Did you sleep well?”
Aliya picked at the edge of her blanket. She felt a sudden wave of irrational resentment at Aly’s absence. “I slept fine,” she said. “You left.”
“I had to get some things. I wrote you a note…”
Aliya glanced up. Yes, right there behind Aly on the stove was a scrap of paper propped against the teakettle. Of course she would have left you a note. The odd sense of desertion dissipated. “Oh. I didn’t see that,” she said quietly.
Aly rummaged in one of the bags. “I bought you some juice.” She held it out like a peace offering, and Aliya found herself moving forward to take it.
Aly left her ensconced on the couch with her blanket, juice, and the TV remote, and went into the kitchen. Aliya flicked through the channels idly. How far is it into town by foot? Has to be at least 1.5 kilometers, maybe more. She wondered what Aly had needed so urgently to make that trip under the hot sun worthwhile, and why she felt the need to take such good care of Aliya. We barely know each other, after all.
“Hey. I cut up some fruit for you. You haven’t eaten all day, you should try some of this.”
“OK.” Aliya coughed again and pushed the blanket down, suddenly roasting.
Aly handed her the bowl and felt her forehead with the back of her hand. “I think you’re still hot.”
“Damn straight,” Aliya croaked.
Aly chuckled. And then she planted a hand on the couch and touched her lips to Aliya’s forehead.
Oh, Aliya thought distantly. That feels nice. And, looking down at the way Aly filled out her swimsuit, Wow. That is a really great view.
“Dammit, I forgot to buy a thermometer. I think you’re still running a temp. At least you’re not cold anymore, huh? I’ll be back in a sec…”
The cold, damp cloth Aly brought her felt nice against her forehead. Aliya closed her eyes until her body heat had warmed the cloth. Then she picked up her bowl of fruit, plodded over to the breakfast nook, and took a seat, still half-wrapped in her blanket. She propped her chin in her hand and blearily watched Aly move around the kitchen. That was definitely a better show than anything on TV at this hour. Aly had shed her swimsuit cover-up after her walk. She was the picture of radiant health, tan and glowing, and the play of muscles in her back as she chopped vegetables was oddly mesmerizing. Aliya idly wondered what kind of horrible conditioning the American did to produce that physique. “What’re you making?” she asked.
“Chicken noodle soup. I’d make it with dumplings like my mom does when I’m not feeling well, but matzah meal is kind of scarce out here.”
“Your mom gives you this when you’re sick?”
“Yeah. We call it Jewish penicillin.”
Aliya raised her eyebrows and popped a section of orange into her mouth. Aly laughed at herself. “Let me explain …”
The hum of words and the gleam of late afternoon sun on glossy dark hair lulled her nearly to sleep. “Aliya?” She felt a hand on her arm. “Soup’s going to cook for a while. Do you want to hang out on the couch?”
Aliya sleepily followed the other gymnast back into the living room. She curled up against the armrest and let her head fall against the back of the couch. Aliya sifted through sludgy, disconnected thoughts, trying to find something to say.
“Tell me about growing up,” she said.
The sound of Aly’s voice was relaxing by now. Aliya fed her questions: family, friends, school, gymnastics. At first Aly tried to ask her questions in return, but Aliya just said, “Too tired,” and asked her about winters in Massachusetts or more about camp. The answers didn’t matter so much in Aliya’s dazed state, although they were interesting enough—so different from Aliya’s life. Instead she drowsily watched the shape of Aly’s mouth as she spoke, the way her eyes lit when she was enthusiastic about something. If Aliya hadn’t been so out of it, she might have told herself to get a grip and stop gazing like that or Aly might get the wrong idea. But she was sick. Behavioral guidelines didn’t apply to sick people. Anyway, there was nothing else to look at in the spare white living room but Aly’s tanned … everything. And Aly was telling a funny story about her coach, so what else could Aliya do but watch her and smile languidly in appreciation?
The cars pulling into the driveway put an end to that. Aly craned her neck to see out the window. “Looks like everyone’s home. I’m gonna check the soup.” Aliya closed her eyes briefly, willing the moment not to end. But the door flew open and the peace was shattered. The house was suddenly full of her teammates and the American girls, all talking loudly about their surfing exploits and wipeouts.
“Did you guys have fun?” Aly called.
“Lots of fun!” Tanya said. She made a beeline for the kitchen. “Aly, look at my bruises!! And my sunburn, it’s going to be epic tomorrow.”
Vika dove onto the couch and put her feet in Aliya’s lap. “Alka, you missed Tanya falling off ofeverything. It was amazing! Also I did a salto off Wieber’s shoulders over a wave and Masha got a picture of it and it is so my new profile pic.”
Aliya batted feebly at her ankles. “That’s real nice, Komova, how about you get your stinky sandy feet out of my blanket.”
“Vikuska, leave her alone, she’s sick and no fun.” Masha pulled Vika up by the hand and shot Aliya a wicked grin, dimples out in full force. “She’s got no time for your flirting, anyway. She’s got a hot young thing to do her bidding.”
“What?” Vika said, her usual oblivious self. Aliya flipped Masha off behind Vika’s back.
“Oh, nothing.” Masha whirled Vika around and gave her an obnoxious sloppy kiss. The old ache reasserted itself, and Aliya had to turn away. Why do they have to be so demonstrative?
“Hey, Aliya! I heard you weren’t feeling well! Are you OK?” Maroney was a nice enough girl but her voice grated on Aliya’s nerves at the moment. Everyone’s voice grated, actually. Too many people, too much activity.
“I’m fine,” Aliya said, gathering her blanket around her like a robe. She marshaled her energy reserves and got up. “Going to lie down.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” Aly called after her retreating form. Behind Aliya, Vika squealed at whatever Masha was doing to her. Aliya fixed her eyes on her bedroom door.
* * *
Sleep was elusive. Visions of Masha and Vika kept tormenting her. Another reason she hadn’t wanted to come on this trip—it was hard enough seeing that relationship every day, but here on vacation, away from the watchful eyes of coaches and staff, it was ridiculous.
Aliya tossed and turned. Finally she reached for her phone and squinted at its dim screen. An hour had passed. She was surprisingly hungry. She wondered if Aly was going to bring her the soup. That would be really nice; she felt drained from traipsing around the house earlier.
The noise levels in the living room had not receded. If anything, they were growing louder. Some of the girls were on the back patio grilling chicken. Their voices floated in through the window. “So how long have you and Maria been together? You guys are really cute.”
“Um, like forever. Had to beat up a couple of girls to get to her, but it was no contest, really.”
Aliya would have snorted if she’d had the energy. Komova was so full of shit. If Aliya had blatantly ignored Masha’s preference for blonde hair and giggles and thrown her own hat in the ring, things might have been different. Might have been. Despite the fact that Masha had never, ever looked at her as anything other than a friend, not even after her injury at Euros. Because Vika had been injured too and stupid gorgeous Paseka had apparently been able to spend all her spare time with only one of them, and it hadn’t been Aliya. Not even when she’d swallowed her pride and asked. You’re cute, Masha had said with a laugh. Maybe I’ll drop by tomorrow.
She’d taken the high road for the team’s sake when it became clear that the two girls were an item. She was Aliya fucking Mustafina and she didn’t need anyone, anyway. At least the team was now blessedly (mostly) drama-free. That was something to be thankful for.
“Hey, Mac, can you check the chicken, I think it’s burning.”
“Jo, are you second-guessing my grillmaster status?”
“I am, actually, since you’re taking a selfie with the spatula instead of actually grilling. Give me that.”
The smell of roasting meat floated in through the window. That was enough to jolt Aliya out of unpleasant memories and get her on her feet. Maybe the soup was done and Aly was preparing a bowl right now.
Aly was not getting dinner ready. She was leaning against the stove, with the soup pot on the back burner, and talking. Talking to Tanya. Aliya frowned. An hour ago, Tanya had been halfway across the kitchen. Now Tanya was standing a lot closer.
“… after the sun sets? Grab a bottle of wine, maybe a blanket, go lie out on the beach and listen to the waves. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“I don’t know…” Aly caught sight of Aliya. “Oh, hey, you’re up. Are you hungry? Tatiana, will you hand me that bowl? We were going to all watch a movie … want to join us?”
Somehow Aliya ended up wedged between Aly and quiet Kyla, with Tanya on Aly’s other side. The rest of the girls piled onto the other couch or sprawled on the floor. After a few minutes, Aliya realized that none of them were actually watching the movie, with the possible exception of Kyla, who clearly had a great deal of practice in putting up with the noise levels. Tanya kept making smart-ass side comments on the movie to Aly. The other girls didn’t seem to notice or mind—Masha and Vika were in their own little world, obnoxiously cuddling on the second couch, and the rest were on their phones or loudly talking about beach plans for the next day. If she’d even wanted to watch the movie, which she did not, Aliya would have preferred peace and quiet, and maybe Aly’s company again.
“Oh my god, like that would ever happen,” Tanya said to Aly, who laughed, and Aliya found she had suddenly reached the limit of her tolerance for other people. She got up again.
“Gonna take a shower. Thanks for the soup.”
“Don’t worry about her,” she heard Tanya say to Aly as she trudged away. “She’s tough. Just leave her be.”
Exactly what she wanted. So why did that make her so angry?
She made it back into her room after nearly falling asleep in the shower, only to find Masha coming out with an armful of blankets. Masha said with her usual breeziness, “Hey, Alka. Sorry, everyone wants their blankets back. Gets a little chilly here at night, you know?”
“Yeah. I know,” Aliya said flatly.
Masha nudged her with the bundle of blankets. “Must be nice to have Raisman waiting on you hand and foot. Maybe you can get her to warm you up, huh? Sweat that cold off?” She grinned. Aliya had fallen hard for her insouciant sense of humor, but now it seemed tiresome and almost juvenile.
“Get the fuck out of my room.”
“Damn, all right, ice queen. Do you want me to send Raisman in to melt you or—OK, OK, I’m going!”
* * *
Her cough was getting worse and she was cold again. The shower had helped with both only momentarily. She shivered under her single blanket and considered her options. Let’s see. One: wear all the clothes I brought. Already doing that. Two: more tea. God, no, I’d rather defect to America. Three: crawl into bed with …
No. Even if Aliya wasn’t too proud to do that, Aly was sharing a bed with someone else. Which reminded Aliya of her own roommate’s absence. Where was Tanya? And Aly, for that matter—surprisingly, she hadn’t checked on Aliya all evening. Aliya poked her head out from under her pillow and listened. The house was relatively quiet now that the movie was done. Only the hum of low voices in the living room indicated that anyone was still up.
The first thing Aliya saw when she came out of the hallway was a T-shirt on the floor. The second thing Aliya saw was Tanya and Aly. Her roommate sat on the edge of the couch in board shorts and bikini top, eyes closed in pleasure. Aly was smoothing her hands over Tanya’s back with a familiar air.
Her chest felt tight. Static occluded Aliya’s vision again. When the lightheadedness passed, she realized Aly was looking at her. “Need something?”
“No.” Aliya went into the kitchen, filled a mug, banged the microwave door shut with unnecessary force. “Just making tea.”
“Oh, here, I can do that.” Aly came into the kitchen. Aliya caught a whiff of aloe before Aly turned the faucet on. “Just let me wash my hands first.”
“I don’t need help,” Aliya snapped. She coughed again.
“Uh … OK.”
The microwave thrummed in the silence. Tanya put in, “She was helping me with my sunburn. I’m as red as a —”
Aliya told Tanya what she could do with her sunburn. In Russian, of course, because it sounded better. Before Tanya could decide between indignation or amusement, Aliya pulled her mug out of the microwave, grabbed a tea bag, and left. She felt Aly’s eyes on her but didn’t look back.
The tea tasted terrible. The water wasn’t heated enough, either. Aliya curled into a ball and coughed resoundingly. She allowed herself to feel a little self-pity. Being sick on vacation was the worst. Plus the one person she’d somehow come to count on was currently being seduced by Tanya’s sunburn, of all things, and meanwhile Aliya was about this close to kicking the bucket. She could see the headline now: Russian Gymnast Found Improbably Dead of Hypothermia; Companions Too Distracted to Notice.
Something hitched in her throat. The air felt too thin. She coughed hard again and again, unable to catch her breath, even after she sat up. She thought distantly, Fuck. This is going to be a very long night. A lull came finally and she braced her elbows on her knees, trying to breathe before the next coughing fit. She didn’t even notice Aly had come in until the other girl waved a small plastic cup of liquid under her nose. Aliya grabbed the cough syrup and downed it wordlessly, panted, coughed again. Aly handed her a glass of water after that and Aliya drained half of it in one go.
Aly crawled onto the bed and settled next to her. “You don’t sound so good.”
She didn’t respond, fighting the tickle in her throat. It was a futile effort. Coughs racked Aliya’s body so hard that she saw stars. When they cleared, she became aware that Aly was rubbing her back in gentle circles.
“You OK?”
“Fine. You should go.” She wished she could take the words back. She didn’t want to think about Tanya in the living room, and the couch, and Aly’s hands on Tanya’s bare back.
“Are you sure?”
In lieu of answering, Aliya surrendered to another coughing fit. Her throat felt raw. She considered reaching for the bottle of cough syrup Aly had set next to the bed and drinking the entire thing.
“Hey. It’s OK. Relax, just try to slow your breathing down.” Aly rubbed the length of her back, and Aliya hung her head and tried.
Long minutes passed. The world was the itch in her throat, the throbbing in her head, and the gentle pressure of Aly’s hand. She concentrated on the circles Aly was tracing between her shoulder blades. Around and around, fingertips, fingernails, slow and constant. She began to get her breathing under control. Maybe the medication was kicking in too.
“Good,” Aly murmured. Aliya’s head drooped in exhaustion. She felt fingers knead her traps and work up her neck. Aly rubbed the pressure point at the base of her skull and threaded fingers through Aliya’s hair, lightly massaging her scalp. The pressure seemed to lift from Aliya’s head. She angled her head slightly, leaning into Aly’s touch. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.
Eventually Aly stroked her back once more and let her hand drop. “Better?” she asked. Aliya could only nod. She coughed again, but it wasn’t so bad now. She sat back. She wasn’t leaning against Aly, precisely, but Aly’s shoulder was right there, and it seemed natural for Aly to put an arm around her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t check on you. I thought you wanted some space. Tatiana kept saying you don’t like people around you when you’re sick, so…”
“It’s fine,” she said. She shivered once. God, she was tired.
“Do you want to be alone? I could leave.”
Aliya opened her mouth. Paused. She thought of Maria, making casual promises she would never keep. She thought of how Aly had quietly cared for her throughout the day without being asked, for no apparent reason other than innate kindness. The moment stretched out. There was something almost tense in the way Aly held her, as if she was ready to draw away. I don’t want her to leave, Aliya thought.
She turned to meet Aly’s eyes. “If you’d rather not hear me cough all night, that’s OK. Honestly. But the truth is … I feel better when you’re around.” There. I said it. The admission wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it might be. Maybe because Aly wasn’t the flighty type who was allergic to feelings and serious confessions.
“Then I’d be happy to stay.”
Aliya let heavy eyelids fall shut, feeling an odd sense of relief. “Good. That’s good. Besides, someone needs to rescue you from Tanya.”
She felt, not saw, Aly smile, and wondered for a moment how she knew that, how she was beginning to see Aly’s face every time she closed her eyes. A rustle, movement, and then Aly’s lips on her forehead again—this time, a real kiss. “I’ll be back, going to get you more water,” Aly said. “Lie down.”
When Aly slid back into bed, Aliya was tense with cold. “Tatiana’s not too happy about sharing a bed with Jordyn,” Aly said.
“Tatiana can suck it,” Aliya said. “Aly … can you … would you get closer?”
There was a momentary silence. Then Aly shifted. An arm went around her waist and Aliya felt delicious warmth all along her back. “Better?” Aly said, breath tickling Aliya’s neck. Aly was a little too short to be the big spoon but Aliya wasn’t going to complain.
“Yes. Thanks.”
“Thank you for the rescue. Tatiana’s nice, but, um…”
“She comes on strong.”
“You think she likes me?”
“Everyone likes you, Raisman.”
Aly’s hand brushed against Aliya’s forearm. “So you like me, huh?”
“Didn’t say that,” Aliya mumbled. “Go to sleep.” She felt Aly laugh against her. As she drifted off, she imagined the sensation of fingers curling around her wrist, a kiss pressed to the joint of her shoulder and neck. It was not unpleasant to think about.
* * *
Jordyn and Aly were the only ones left in the house by the time Aliya stumbled into the kitchen, blinking and yawning. Aly was on her way out the door but reversed course to come say hi. “Morning, sleepyhead. Saved you some breakfast.” Aly indicated a foil-covered plate on the table. “Everyone else is already down by the water, so I was going to join them for a while. But if you need anything, I could stay.”
“No, you should go have fun. I’ll be OK.” Aliya stifled a cough and gave her a reassuring smile.
“If you’re sure …”
After Aly left, Aliya sat down at the table. There was a computer next to the plate with a note on it: For if you get bored. I’ll come check on you later! :) —A
“Oh, Aly left her laptop for you. She has a bunch of movies and TV shows on it.” Jordyn came to stand at the head of the table. “Are you feeling better? Aly said something about needing to take care of you last night.” There was a speculative look on her face.
“Yes, I feel a little better. I was very sick.” No way was Aliya going to share any details about what could quite easily be described as cuddling. She didn’t want Aly’s teammate to misconstrue anything. She was just glad Paseka wasn’t around to tease her.
After Jordyn left, Aliya arranged herself on one of the couches. Aly’s laptop had quite a few movies and seasons of American TV shows. She tried several different shows. They weren’t to her taste, so she opened a browser window. A few tabs were still active from Aly’s last session: an online shoe retailer, a social networking site, a page about treating fevers. That last one was cute. Aly had seemed pretty competent, but Aliya could just picture her carefully double-checking remedies.
She spent a while checking her own social networks and then let her eyes take a break from staring at the screen. The view out of the window was breathtaking. Low mountains huddled in the east. A weatherbeaten promontory of rock served as a wall between the vacation house and the small resort down the road. The beach sloped away next to it, hiding her friends down by the water’s edge, white sand meeting hot blue sky in an unbroken line. A sight worth every penny they were paying for the rental, though looking at it made Aliya feel strangely lonely in her lassitude. She resolved to find a film to distract herself.
A few minutes into some movie about a notebook, Aliya glanced up. A familiar figure was approaching the house. Aly was wearing sunglasses and had her hair messily pinned up. The breeze alternately ruffled her swimsuit cover-up and flattened it against her body, offering teasing glimpses of olive skin and the outline of washboard abs. Aliya’s heart started hammering. She became aware that her palms had started to sweat.
What the hell? she thought, and then, Oh. Oh my god. Of course. She liked Aly Raisman.
She was fucked. She was well and truly fucked. And yet, oddly enough, she didn’t actually care. All she could think about was the fact that Aly and her tiny swimsuit were going to walk through the front door at any moment. As a veteran of countless competitions, Aliya had some experience getting heart palpitations under control. But this was slightly different.
“Hey, you. Feeling any better?”
Aliya paused the movie. Try to talk like a normal person, Alka. “Yes, I am. Thanks for leaving me your computer. That was really thoughtful.” Good job, she congratulated herself.
“Of course. It was the least I could do.” Aly crouched next to the couch. “What are you watching? Oh my god, that’s one of my favorite movies. I cried so hard the first time I saw it. And the next ten times. I’m such a sucker for sappy movies.” She laughed at herself. Aliya found herself smiling goofily in return. Aly brushed her arm and a thrill ran down her spine. “Hey, how about I make you a smoothie?”
“That sounds good. I’ll keep you company.” Aliya disentangled herself from the blanket and stood—too quickly. She wavered on her feet. Aly steadied her. Aliya shook her head, which didn’t help much with the lightheadedness, and squeezed her eyes shut. “Ow.” She sounded pathetic even to her own ears. But that was all right because Aly slipped her arms around Aliya in a brief hug.
“You poor thing,” Aly said. Her skin was warm from the sun. Aliya inhaled the scents of suntan lotion and musky-sweet sweat, reluctant to step back even after her head rush cleared.
“Sorry. Got up too fast.”
Aly’s hands slid to her hips. “It’s all right,” she said. She didn’t seem inclined to move away quickly either.
Aly stayed long enough to make the smoothie and to talk for a while on the couch. Aliya sent her away reluctantly, feeling guilty that she was taking up so much of Aly’s time. The afternoon in a silent house stretched endlessly before her. When the girls came back for dinner, Aliya welcomed them, noise and all.
They watched another movie while they ate. Aly sat on the couch and Aliya sat on the floor next to her, leaning against her knee. Aliya rubbed her forehead and neck a few times—she had a headache from staring at various screens all day—and Aly absently began giving her a head massage.
“I see this is a full-service resort for some of us,” Masha quipped.
“Shut up, Paseka,” Aliya replied, eyes half-closed. “I still blame you for giving me the plague.” But she couldn’t be angry about it any more. Not with Aly’s fingers in her hair rubbing all the tension away.
She came out of the shower that evening to find Aly changing her sheets. The American looked up and momentarily froze at the sight of her in a towel. “I’m, uh, I’m almost done. Do you need me to stay again tonight?”
Aliya pictured Aly in her bed again. It was a very appealing image. But after her epiphany that afternoon, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep with Aly again without, well, wanting to sleepwith her. She still wasn’t at peak health, though. She very much wanted to thank Aly for all she’d done by using some very particular methods; better to wait and make sure she was at full strength. “I think I’ll be fine tonight. But I appreciate the offer.” She sat on the chair in her towel and watched Aly finish making the bed.
“There you go. If you change your mind, you can come get me. Oh, Tatiana’s sleeping on the couch anyway, so don’t worry about her.” Aly wrinkled her nose cutely. “I don’t think she and Jordyn shared a bed as well as we did.”
Aliya felt a slow grin spread over her face. It sounded like Aly had enjoyed last night too. She stood and walked over to Aly. The shorter girl looked up at her in some confusion, but Aliya only said, “Good night.” She dipped her head and kissed Aly’s cheek, hovering there just long enough to see a spark in Aly’s eyes and hear her soft “Good night, Aliya.” Then she forced herself to turn away to find some clean pajamas. Tomorrow, she promised herself, as the door clicked shut behind Aly.
* * *
She woke up early on the third morning. She felt nearly one hundred percent better. No brain fog today, either. Aliya examined herself in the bathroom mirror and was pleased to see that she no longer resembled the walking dead. She brushed her hair and put on some real clothes and even some makeup.
Aly’s flip-flops were missing from the jumble in the entryway. Aliya peered out the window to see Aly’s small figure receding down the beach. Aliya dug her own sandals out from the pile and followed her outside. It was the first time she’d left the house in days. The morning sun felt good on her face.
Aly had stopped right where the sand started to get wet, far enough back from the waves that she didn’t need to roll up her yoga pants. Aliya watched the now-familiar shape of her compact body for a moment. Then she walked up beside Aly. “Good morning,” she said.
Aly turned to her. “Good m—oh, wow. You look amazing.”
“You mean I look human again,” Aliya corrected her, laughing a little.
“No, you look great,” Aly insisted. She looked Aliya up and down. “You’re—yeah. Wow.”
“Thanks to you. And, seriously, thank you. For everything. I don’t think I’ve said that.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. I was happy to help you.”
She studied that open face. “Why did you take care of me?”
Aly’s blush was gratifyingly swift. “I, um, I kind of thought it was obvious by now, because I’m not very good at hiding when I like someone. And I like you.”
“You like everyone,” Aliya teased gently.
“No, I … I’ve always liked you. Specifically. You’re one of the reasons I came on this trip. I wanted to get to know you better, so this was perfect. I mean, not your getting sick, of course! That really sucked. But getting to spend some time with you was amazing and I’m really glad we were able to hang out. Even if you don’t, uh, if you don’t like me like that, which is totally OK and we can just be friends or whatever.”
Aliya moved so close that she could see Aly’s pupils dilate. She parted her lips, looking down at the other girl’s mouth. “Aly,” she said.
“Yeah?” Aly was trembling with anticipation.
“How do you feel,” Aliya breathed, “about sharing germs?”
Aly looked blank. Then she frowned. Then she started to laugh. “Oh my god, Aliya, if I was going to catch whatever you have, I would have gotten sick a long time ago!”
“Good,” Aliya said, grinning. She tucked Aly’s hair behind her ear. “Because what I’m about to do may be hazardous to your health.”
“Will you shut up and kiss me already,” Aly said, and Aliya took Aly’s face between her hands and at long last pressed her mouth against Aly’s. When she pulled back after a few heavenly moments, Aly was smiling giddily. She curled a hand in Aliya’s shirt and leaned in to kiss Aliya’s bottom lip. The blood thundered in Aliya’s ears. She buried a hand in Aly’s hair, pulled her closer so she could feel Aly’s softness against her, and Aly’s arms went around her neck as the kiss deepened.
Gulls wheeled overhead, harsh cries floating over the boom of the waves. Cold seawater lapped at Aliya’s feet. The tide was coming in. But she was on vacation and she was kissing Aly, and she needed nothing more in the world right now besides the smell of salt water and the taste of Aly’s tongue hot against hers.
Maybe catching the plague hadn’t been so bad after all.