[Emily’s POV]

The dining hall is loud with trays clattering and overlapping conversations. I’m at a table with Ava and three other teammates while Maddie’s still studying at the library. I don’t like that she declined, but I can’t exactly put pressure on her.

Technically, I should be there too, since I’m a co-captain, but Maddie said to take some time off. “So Regionals,” Sarah says. “Three weeks out. Everyone feeling good?”

Ava grins. “I’m feeling great. Landed that footwork sequence—the brackets into the rocker. Took me two months but it’s solid now. Coach said it’s ready.”

I steal a fry from her plate, because that’s what friends do. “Nice. That sequence is brutal.”

She reclaims her fries, but it’s not what friendship should look like, so I gently shove her shoulder. “Get your own food, Harper.”

“Sharing is caring.” I look around the table. “The team’s looking strong though. Morale seems high.”

Megan leans forward. “Everyone’s been killing it at practice. I think we have a shot at placing in the top three.”

“Top three feels conservative,” Ava says. “Emily’s triple toe loop is insane, Maddie’s comeback is miraculous, everyone else is skating clean. We could win this.”

The mention of Maddie makes me smile. “She’s been skating really well. The injury recovery was brutal but she’s back to form now.”

Ava’s expression shifts. “She seems like she’s doing better too. More herself. Less performing and more actually okay.”

Relief washes through me. “Yeah, she does. She’s been more present lately. More engaged.”

Sarah sets down her fork. “You two are good then? I know the last competition was rough.”

“We’re good,” I say, believing it. “We had a rough patch after that competition—the scoring messed with her head. But I think we’ve worked through it.”

Megan nods forcefully. “You two were much better than the judges made it out to be. Everyone knows it.” We spend the rest of dinner talking about strategy and training schedules.

The conversation is easy and optimistic. By the time we finish, it’s past seven and I’m heading back to the dorm.

The walk back takes ten minutes through campus that’s mostly empty. When I reach our door, it’s silent inside—no music, no movement. Usually there’s something, but not tonight. I unlock it quietly and push it open, unease coiling in my chest.

Maddie’s at her desk with a textbook open in front of her, but she’s not reading it. She’s completely still, staring at the wall with blank eyes, her hands resting motionless on the table.

Her left leg bounces rapidly—that nervous habit she has when she’s anxious—and her face is frozen in this expression that’s somewhere between vacant and devastated.

I freeze in the doorway, my heart rate spiking, because this is bad. This is Maddie checking out, disappearing inside herself. I’m about to say something when she hears me.

The transformation is instant and complete. Her face shifts from blank to bright in the space of a heartbeat. She turns, beaming, and stands to cross the room.

“Hey!” she says, pulling me into a kiss that’s enthusiastic and warm and perfectly performed. “How was dinner?”

I’m still processing what I just saw, trying to reconcile the girl staring at the wall with this one kissing me like everything’s fine. My brain is screaming warnings but my mouth says, “It was good. Just teammate stuff, talking about Regionals.”

She guides me into the room, still smiling, her hand cold on my wrist. “Yeah? Everyone feeling confident?”

I watch her face for cracks. “Pretty confident. Ava landed that footwork sequence, Sarah’s got her jumps consistent. The team’s looking strong.”

“Want to just relax then?” Her hand finds mine, her smile turns mischievous, and oh God, I love it. “Not think for a while?”

She curls her fingers while her tongue circles my clit with perfect pressure, and I’m climbing fast. When she adds a third finger and increases intensity, I break apart with a choked moan.

She works me through the aftershocks until I’m oversensitive and pushing at her head. Then she’s crawling up, kissing me so I taste myself.

“Your turn,” I manage, breathless, and flip us. I strip her remaining clothes and settle between her thighs.

I kiss her inner thighs slowly until she’s squirming and making impatient sounds. When my tongue finally makes contact, she gasps sharply, hands immediately finding my hair and gripping tight.

I work her the way she likes—alternating between broad strokes and focused attention, reading her body. When I slide two fingers inside, she’s already close, muscles fluttering.

She breathes my name like a prayer, hips rocking. “Em…” I increase the pace and she comes with a strangled sound, body tensing before going boneless.

I kiss back up and she pulls me close, holding tight. We stay tangled together, catching our breath.

“That was good,” she murmurs against my shoulder, and I make an agreeing noise because words require too much effort.

We shift positions until we’re both more comfortable, my back against the wall and Maddie curled into my side. Her breathing evens out gradually, her body going heavy with approaching sleep.

Just before my own eyes close, I glance down at her face. She’s looking at nothing, her eyes distant and unfocused despite the physical satisfaction, and that same vacant expression from earlier ghosts across her features.

I tell myself it’s nothing. Just post-orgasm haze. Just tiredness. Just my imagination reading problems that aren’t there. But I don’t quite believe it.