DECISIONS, DECISIONS (Chapter 22)

Ellen was getting ready to go, and went upstairs to say goodbye to Sophia.

"We’ve been up here three hours?" Sophia asked incredulously?

"Yes, you have, dear," said Ellen with a smile. "I will see you later, at home, OK?"

"Bye, Mom."

They came down shortly after Ellen had left. "Were you guys on the computer the whole time?" asked Peg.

"Yeah," Sophia admitted with a smile. "I think he’s got me hooked. I was chatting with figure skaters from all over the country."

"Oh, yeah," Peg smiled, "Warren’s SkateGirl Harem."

"Well, one guy," Sophia laughed. "Jack, a singles skater from Washington."

"Yeah, he’s one of the few guys I chat with regularly. He knows about my flirtsessions with a lot of the girls—I think he was glad to find out that you were there with me so he could flirt with you."

"It was fun, after watching you flirt with every female figure skater in the country, seemingly," laughed Sophia. "The only thing I didn’t like is that you didn’t have a picture of him. You have one of all the girls," she teased. "Although it seemed like he had ours."

"He does. I have his, too."

"Why didn’t you show me? And why did you type to him at the beginning that I hadn’t seen his face yet?"

"That was code. I wanted you to enjoy yourself. I don’t think you would have been able to flirt so easily if you had seen his picture."

"Why? Is he ugly or something?"

"Not at all."

"And, waitaminnit….what do you mean, what you typed to him was code? What kind of code?"

"It was code for ‘She doesn’t know who you are.’"

"Well, of course I don’t. He’s just an anonymous skater."

"And that’s what I let you think. If I had shown you his picture, you would have realized he was Jack…..or John, Garrison."

"Jack is JOHN GARRISON?"

"Uh-huh."

"You mean to tell me I just spent thirty minutes cyber-flirting with the US NATIONAL SILVER MEDALIST?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow."

"Not everybody knows who he is. He’s a really nice guy. As is Liz."

"Liz."

"The girl I was flirting with before Jack came on?"

"Yeah, what about her?"

"That’s Elizabeth Cushman."

"World Champion Elizabeth Cushman????"

"The same."

"Wow."

"Almost nobody knows who she is. I figured it out, last year, because all the times that Liz disappeared from the computer coincided with the times that Elizabeth Cushman was away competing somewhere. And, after Cup of Russia last year, I caught her. ‘Liz’ popped back up, IM-ing me as always, and I said, ‘So, how was St. Petersburg?’ And she blathered about it for a couple minutes before she caught herself, and said, ‘Waitaminnit. How did you know I was in St. Petersburg?’ And I said, ‘Because I’m very good at putting two and two together, and I do believe I just watched you win Cup of Russia on my TV set, Miss Cushman.’"

"Oh, that’s priceless. She must have peed her pants."

"Well, she spent the first couple of minutes trying to deny it. Finally, I said, ‘Liz, I am convinced that you are Elizabeth Cushman, but your secret is perfectly safe with me. I just enjoy the fact that I spend all kinds of time flirting with a World Champion.’ She laughed and typed back at me, ‘OK. I admit it. I’m Elizabeth Cushman.’ I think she enjoys the fact that she has one computer buddy who she doesn’t have to hide it with. She IM-ed me right after she got back from Worlds in April. What a great chat that was. I think that World Championship surprised her, because Katya Yurcheskova had been skating so well."

"Wow. You rubbing shoulders with the Skating Elite. How come you never told me this?"

"I dunno. Well, I did want to show you what this was all about before I told you, because it’s easier to explain with a visual demonstration. As for Jack and Liz, well, I’ve been taken into a confidence, here, and I guard their privacy very carefully. They’re my friends. Liz was especially helpful when I was going through all that with you before we hooked up."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She was sending me e-mails from a laptop at Worlds, for heaven’s sake, making sure I was all right. She landed in Germany the week of the whole Scott blowup, and she’s sending me emails asking me ‘Are you OK? How’s your face?’ and I’m emailing her back telling her to forget about me and go PRACTICE!" Sophia laughed. "And then, I get an email from her that said ‘Guess what? I won my qualifying round’ and I got to email back to her, ‘Guess what? Sophia asked me out!’ I think she was more excited by that. Then, she got back from Worlds, and we got to celebrate World Championships and True Love, all at once."

"Wow."

"She’s a peach, is Liz. Great skater, better person. You are the single, only person that I have revealed her identity to. Jack already knew, but, as far as I know, nobody else on the skating lists and chats around the internet knows that Liz is Elizabeth Cushman. I will tell her that I told you, she won’t mind you knowing."

"Her secret is safe with me!"

The Fourth was always a big bash up at the Kenney’s. Sophia and Warren were one of the first ones there, and grabbed a couple chairs in the corner to hold court. There were a bunch of people on the picnic table, and Warren was telling all about the baseball game.

"……..and she was there making like Peter Gammons. It was great. The guy behind me leaned over to me and said that I was the luckiest guy in the world."

Rick Kenney smiled and said, "I think knowing a lot about baseball would be high on my list of qualities I’d want in a girlfriend."

"That, pal," said Warren, "is because you eat, sleep, and breathe baseball. Don’t get your hopes up, there, Rich—Sophie’s a rare bird when it comes to that."

"So, Warren," Cheryl began. Cheryl had been a lot nicer to Sophia since her revelations, but was still as catty as ever. "Does it intimidate you?"

"What?"

"Going out with a girl who’s so beautiful, when you’re… you."

Sophia was butting in with "Oh, of course it doesn’t," but Warren was saying, "Cheryl, don’t go there."

"What," Sophie asked, "it does intimidate you?"

"Well, not usually."

"But……"

"The other day at the beach."

"Oh."

Warren turned to his friends and explained. "I didn’t mind the guys checking her out, or anything—it was kind of inevitable, you should’ve seen the bikini she was wearing."

Sophie blushed. "I just wanted to tan as much of myself as I could."

"Uh-huh. Anyway, I would have been checking her out, too. It was the two guys that tried to pick her up when I had gone to the bathroom."

Sophie sighed. "It was awful. I kept telling them that I had a boyfriend. Then Warren showed up, and they wouldn’t believe me when I said that he was my boyfriend."

Warren was frowning. "Yeah, they were real charming. Him? He’s your boyfriend? NO way. And all that kind of shit."

"I know it upset you, but they were just assholes."

"It wasn’t just them, Soph. I heard other comments along the same lines."

"Oh."

Warren turned back to his friends. "It really isn’t the fact that she’s better looking than I am, not entirely. It’s something different. It’s somewhat apparent when we’re in street clothes, but it’s really apparent when we’re in bathing suits."

"What are you talking about?" Sophia asked.

"When we strip down to bathing suits, I look like what I am—fourteen. You, however, look eighteen or nineteen."

"Ah."

"Those guys that tried to scoop you had to be at least twenty. And I heard lots of comments along the lines of ‘He must be her little brother, he can’t be her boyfriend.’ I can live with a girlfriend who’s a babe. Having a girlfriend who looks like my older sister is a bit tough."

"Oh, Warren, I’m sorry."

"Not your fault."

"I’m sorry I brought it up, Warren." Cheryl said.

"’salright, Cheryl. I’ll live."

Sophia looked at Warren. "Snugglebear, I have a suggestion."

"OK, Pookie, shoot."

"I’ve been wanting to talk with you about this for a while. Not because of your looks—you know I love you just the way you are—but for another reason. Your looks would be a side benefit."

"Go on."

"Look, you don’t look fourteen in the face. Your legs are fine. We all know how much I value that delicious ass of yours." Warren laughed. Sophia took a deep breath. "Warren, I think you should start lifting weights to develop your upper body. It’s your torso. And I wasn’t thinking about this in terms of your looks, I was thinking about lifts. You’ve got to get stronger in the upper body or we’re going to have trouble with lifts forever."

"You’ve got a point."

"Lifts?" asked Mo.

"Ice dancers have to lift," Sophia said. "He has to lift me a prescribed number of times in both the original dance and the free dance. It’s not like pairs, where the guy hoists the girl over the head and skates around the rink, but he does have to get me off the ground, and he’s having trouble."

"She’s fat," Warren said. Everyone except Sophia glared at him. "No, guys, that’s a little joke we have."

Sophia smiled. "The preferred body type for female ice dancers makes Christine"—who was quite thin—"look like Pregnant Amazon Woman." Everyone laughed at that. "Anorexia is rampant in ice dance. I will be damned if I get an eating disorder from something we consider a fun hobby, but we do want to compete, and we have to compete with me being about 45 pounds overweight."

"45 pounds overweight???" Mo asked incredulously, looking at the perfectly proportioned Sophia.

"For an ice dancer? You betcha. I know an ice dancer who is 5’8" and weights 100 pounds. I’m 5’8" myself. I do not weigh 100 pounds, I can guarantee you. And it’s made worse by the fact of where a lot of my weight is."

Everyone stared at her. "She’s top heavy," Warren explained helpfully. "When we do start competing, I can pretty much guarantee that, whatever competition we enter, Sophia has a hands-down lock on the prize for the Biggest Tits. Ice dancers all have smaller chests that I do." Everyone howled at that, even Sophia.

"Believe me, the only time he ever complains about the size of my chest is when we’re on the ice," Sophia said mischievously.

"Anyhow, I can see where me lifting weights might help me get you off the ground. And maybe I could fill my scrawny chest out enough to pass for your boyfriend on the beach." Sophie just smiled at him. "I wouldn’t know how to get started, though."

"I have the answer to that," Sophia smiled. "Nickie."

"Nickie?" asked Cheryl.

"Nick Panapopoulos. A year ahead of Soph at Oceanview, and one of her dearest friends. I used to hate him back at East, but it turns out he’s a really good guy."

"Yeah," Sophia said, "and he’s a really good guy who used to be scrawny until he started lifting."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know he could help you. He belongs to a gym. He’s got a regular program and everything."

"He’s going to be at Karen’s party Saturday night?"

"As far as I know."

"Great. I’ll talk to him, then."

"You took it rather well, Snugglebear."

"Well, I am scrawny in the chest and arms. We do need to get better at lifts. And I really don’t mind you trying to make me more of a Sophie-Toy Hunk for you, Pookie."

Sophia grinned at him. "Just don’t do a thing to that tight ass of yours!"

"Yes. Ma'am."

"Hey," asked Sophie suddenly, "where’s Crash?"

"Didn’t feel like coming."

"Really?" Mo said. "He always seemed to have a blast at my parties."

"Well," Warren said, "I haven’t had a chance to tell you guys this—not even Sophia—but he and Ally broke up."

"Oh, damn," said Mo. "Well, he should have come anyway, we would have cheered him up!"

"Wait a minute," interjected Sophia. "I thought I saw Ally, earlier, over by the basketball court."

"You’re right!" said Mo. "I did see her. I just kind of assumed Crash was around somewhere, until Sophia asked about him and you said he wasn’t coming."

"You’re right," said Warren. "Ally is here. With Matt Kittredge."

"Oh, shit," said Sophia.

"Oh, shit, indeed," agreed Warren. "And now you know why Crash didn’t feel like coming."

"I’ll bet."