of that in about twenty minutes. He tapped his badge on the card reader kiosk and walked into the Sports Medicine and Sciences building that housed the gym, then trudged across the warmup floor next to the basketball court. This is what I wanted, remember? To be back on the team, to have another chance to do right by them. For us to boost the popularity of the men’s program together. But with Andrei insisting that Tony work with him exclusively, never allowing much interaction with the other guys in the gym, it almost felt like the first days here, when Sol was still giving him the silent treatment. Not that Sol or any of the guys were doing it on purpose. Andrei always seemed to pop up to drag Tony away to do some advanced Romanian torture conditioning whenever any of them tried to chat. And after such intense training days, none of them had the energy to do much more than eat and fall into bed.
Alone, damn it.
Sol hadn’t been at dinner last night—his parents had stopped by unexpectedly—so Tony hadn’t even gotten the chance to sit next to him and indulge in a little under-the-table footsie. Somehow, he’d find a way to get at least five minutes with Sol, even if they weren’t alone. I’ll hogtie Andrei to the p-bars if I have to.
He nodded decisively and trotted the last few feet to the gym. The windowless room smelled of citrus cleaning products and chalk, the apparatus looming in the dimness of the emergency lighting. The clang of the door closing behind him made him wince. But once he flipped on the lights, the equipment didn’t look so sinister. He patted the pommel horse on his way to the still rings. No doubt Andrei would insist on starting with rings this morning since that’s where they’d imploded yesterday. He dumped his gym bag next to the wall and headed over to jog around the spring floor to get warmed up.
He’d only made a couple of circuits though when the door opened. “Hey, Andr—”
But it wasn’t Andrei in the doorway. It was Sol.
Tony slowed down and grinned. “Hi. You’re down early. Must be my lucky day.”
Sol paced toward him, not answering Tony’s grin. If anything, he looked distressed.
Tony strode toward him. “Solly? What’s wrong? Is it your folks?”
Sol’s eyes widened. “What? No, they’re fine.”
“Then what? You look like you’re about to tell me somebody died.” Tony’s belly bottomed like he’d just missed his grip on high bar. “I’m off the team.”
Sol’s expression morphed from shocked to exasperated. “For God’s sake, Tony, it’s nothing that dire. At least…” He bit his lip, shoulders hunching. “… I hope it’s not.”
“Then tell me before I start imagining further death and untold destruction.”
“It’s Andrei.”
A frisson skated down Tony’s back. “Is he hurt? Did he crash that stupid Alfa Romeo?”
This time, Sol actually rolled his eyes. “Nobody is hurt, okay? Nobody died. Nobody’s in the hospital. Nobody’s off the team.”
Tony’s nerves settled—barely. “Thank fuck for that. Then what’s wrong?”
“After your… discussion with Andrei yesterday—”
“Call it what it was. A screaming fit.”
“Yes. Well after that, Barry called Andrei into his office. They’re barring him from the USOPTC, pending a review. He’s not allowed back until after it’s complete, which isn’t likely to happen until after the Games.”
Tony’s fingers went numb. “Am I barred from the Center too? Do I have to move out?” Do I have to leave you?
Sol gripped Tony’s arms. “Don’t be an idiot. Of course not. You’re still on the team. You’re still living here. You’re still training here.”
“But mandatory training camp starts tomorrow. And I don’t have a coach.”
Sol shook Tony gently. “In case you haven’t noticed, the place is lousy with coaches. You worked with Volya yesterday, didn’t you?”
Tony was still having trouble focusing. “Yeah.”
“You could continue to work with him, but I’d like to suggest something else.”
Tony shook his head, trying to bring his brain back online, because for some reason he was still stuck on the fact that Andrei was de facto no longer his coach. I don’t even know how I feel about this. Shocked? Outraged? Relieved? But Sol was gazing at him, concern in his dark eyes. “Uh, what?”
“I think you should talk to my coach. To Xiao. I think the two of you would work well together.” Sol gave him another shake. “And he can help you with your dismounts, because frankly? They suck.”
Tony was surprised into a laugh. “Yeah, they do. But…” He