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Madison hated to impose.
Well—that was only half the truth. She liked to impose on Gabriella's time at the last second because the other woman was even more spontaneous. The younger woman's time in Canada was always finite, so the unspoken agreement from the start was that showing up at each others' dorm randomly was acceptable. Not like they had any other plans these days—much like herself, Gabriella wasn't the type to go out clubbing on the weekends and preferred to stay in during the work week. This fact didn't change when they moved out of the dorms and moved into apartments a block away from each other.
But things were tense between them, now. Madison wasn't sure if her presence would be welcomed. Nothing she could do about that now; her hand had already raised and knocked thrice on the heavy concrete door. She could turn back and disappear down the stairs, but she was fucking exhausted. She had walked down the block and up the stairs to the fourth floor and she wasn't keen on doing that again so soon. "How did I get here?" she mumbled to herself.
A sharp tongue had served her well in her younger years. Her brother was much more mild-mannered and soft-spoken, so Madison had stepped up for them both during their competitions. She never gave a damn about acting more "ladylike". As her sixth-grade English teacher once said, "Well-behaved women rarely make history." She cut through the bullshit with ease now—but sometimes she said things that ultimately became misconstrued or taken out of context. Her sharp tongue, paired with a short temper, had snapped on live television.
Some might say she could have worded her response with more tact, but she really didn't appreciate the line of questioning about the European Nationals at the US Nationals. There was a whole damn ocean between herself and Gabriella at that time! What did her opinion matter? Why was the journo attempting to goad her into badmouthing her best friend? Not like her indictment could change the results. In the end, she had settled for something Michigan Nice.
The fans and not-fans, of course, took her statement and ran with it. Madison kept a low social media profile, but she still had them. Even a secret Reddit account. Her heart broke at the rabid vitriol slung in all directions at both Gabriella and herself. No one seemed to realize her gripes were with the scoring system, clearly-biased judges, and the French Ice Sports Federations and their blatant bootlicking. She wasn't the only one aware of these factors—Adrián, Olivia, and Zachary had all been on the receiving end of her rants, many a time. Scott and Tessa had gotten an earful a couple times, too.
It was hard to keep Gabriella away when she felt particularly prickly, but she knew the younger woman was going through something and she didn't want to add to it. She knew her anger was ugly, and Gabriella didn't deserve it. Sure, they had spoken at length about the unethical judging, but Madison never wanted to lose control around Gabriella.
Unfortunately, the internet had forced her hand. The tension after her statement had festered for the rest of the week; Gabriella had been distant, awkward. The silence between them at the rink was stilted. If they were left on their own, Gabriella went and found other people to talk to. At first, Madison was annoyed, but when she took a step back and asked herself how Gabriella would feel, the avoidant behavior made sense. Maybe she blamed herself, or maybe she thought Madison hated her, too.
Now that she thought about this whole debacle, it made sense that she wound up on Gabriella's doorstep this Sunday night.
Gabriella opened the door, a question hanging off her lip. The moment her eyes fell on Madison's face, however, that question never dropped. She opened the door wider and stepped aside without a word.
Madison scampered across the threshold and stood in the landing, still in her shoes. She watched Gabriella close and lock the door from the same spot, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets.
If it was any other week, Madison would have launched herself into Gabriella's arm already, maybe even dropped a kiss on a temple or cheek. Gabriella would have laughed and cooed a sweet greeting in a mix of English and French. Tonight, she was met with stoic silence.
This was uncharted territory; it almost felt like the start of their relationship. Madison wasn't sure what she could or couldn't do. She didn't want to presume the affordances Gabriella had given her in the past still held. Had she gone too far?
Gabriella, who was making her way to the kitchen, stopped at the open doorway. "What are you waiting for?"
Madison stiffened with a start. She hurried to shuffle her shoes off and joined the younger woman in the kitchen. The open balcony door let the gentle breeze blow in. The dining table was covered in balls of paper, a computer, a tablet, and three journals. She placed a hip against one of the counters like she always did.
Gabriella tilted her head as she picked up her mug. "Are you okay?" The skin between her eyebrows was wrinkled.
Madison opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. All the while, she took in Gabriella's appearance. Her hair was thrown back in a half-bun, and there were slight dark patches under her eyes. Maybe from the cold kitchen lighting? Her body was swamped by the too-large sweatshirt half-tucked into a pair of basketball shorts. With a start, she realized the sweatshirt was hers—it had "disappeared" suspiciously a year ago, and Gabriella had claimed ignorance of its whereabouts. A small spark of hope ignited in her chest; perhaps their friendship could be salvaged after all.
"Madi?"
Oh, right. Gabriella had asked her a question. Before she could formulate a suitable answer, her mouth moved for her. "I'm sorry. I—I wasn't mad at you."
Gabriella froze, her mug halfway to her lips. "What?"
"What I said about the Euro Nats. I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just—frustrated. But not at you." Madison stepped in closer and touched Gabriella gently on the elbow. She was relieved when the other woman didn't tense up. "My frustration is at the system… I'm not mad at you. I'm sorry if that wasn't clear," she whispered ruefully.
Gabriella turned away. Madison's heart sank. She watched, rooted to a kitchen tile, as Gabriella turned back to face her. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that. I was worried I had done something wrong, that we'd no longer be friends."
"We'll always be best friends, Gabi." Madison pulled her into a hug and spoke quietly into the shorter woman's ear. "I'm sorry I kept my frustration from you. I didn't want to stress you out or add more shit to your plate."
"Next time, tell me these kind of things, okay?" Gabriella paused; her smile spread across Madison's shoulder. "I find angry women hot."
Madison coughed at the light, flirty tease. Gabriella always knew how to keep her on her toes. "Noted."
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