Will O Wisp | YA Novella

Chapter 9: Okay I Won't

"Don't say that again," says Ocean. He sits across from Will in the bright fluorescence of the hospital room. His eyes seem darker than their usual blue, and his posture is more rigid than what Will is used to. In short, he's entirely contrasted from the boy who was so free in their short program, the program that will contribute to the USA figure skating team's score.

Will ignores him, focusing instead on the humming pain of his kneecap. Turns out, the doctor found no fractures in the X-ray. What's ruining him instead is a slightly torn meniscus. He won't be able to perform for the team's long program event, that's for certain. And his and Ocean's individual events... those won't fall after the allotted healing time of six to eight weeks either.

After the silence, Will finally decides to address his partner. The way Ocean is sitting, with arms crossed and an expression like a stone, there is no room for Will to try anything sarcastic. "What shouldn't I say, Ocean?"

"That you wish you were dead."

"Okay, I won't."

Like that, Ocean turns away, uncrossing his arms and letting a sigh run free. "We did well in the program. 79.51 I've heard. After we rushed out of there with you on a stretcher."

Will would rather not dwell on the thousands of eyes dwelling on him—as he fell and almost took Ocean down with him for a solid-ice facial. He it admits that they made magic, as they always do in the rink, and a part of him wants to imagine the headlines: "A Will-O Wisp Flies Bright in the 2026 Olympics."

The perfectionist, the part that takes control of his skating career, is another story altogether. "It wasn't our best. If I didn't screw up the quad lutz... maybe I would think to celebrate."

And if we weren't going to screw up our entire team's chances of medalling either.

"Don't think about it, and don't think about the team either." Of course, after all these years, Ocean would have the ability to read his mind. "You're the worst when stuck in your head. And I hate to see you like that, when you stare off into space and tune me out like I'm just a crappy channel on the radio."

Will grits his teeth. "I'm sorry." And don't you dare get emotional on me.

The mounted television begins to play a gaudy tune that makes Will's ears ache. The screen showcases "The Olympic Rundown" in bold letters, and a reporter takes center stage against a backdrop that resembles the Whistler and Blackcomb Mountains, all icy slopes and snowfall. She begins to recap the day's events, mostly focusing on the Canadian athletes who starred in pair skating, downhill skiing, and the snowboard halfpipe. Will is surprised to see that he and Ocean are showcased in the last segment. Their short program begins right before the botched throw quad lutz.

"William Xu and Ocean Hayes, our favorite boys from the States," says the commentator. She allows the video to speak for itself. While the ballad plays in steady melody, both the performers and the audience seem to be transfixed—frozen in place by the attempt that could make or break their team's chance at medalling.

Of course, Will already knows what's to come. But he still holds his breath while watching himself, cringing at the sight of his sloppy posture in the air. No wonder he tore his knee and grabbed the ice—when he appeared like an amateur attempting the jump for the first time.

Then, the fall, and the gasp from the crowd. And the video cuts to the point where Will is leaning against Ocean. Like holding onto his partner would somehow quench the bite of pain.

"Despite the minor injury, America's golden boys still stunned with their finesse on ice."

The reporter should end it here—at least, that's what Will both thinks and hopes. But instead, the screen cuts to another image of them, tied together like lovebirds at the Parade of Nations. Will's mouth is practically pressed against the other boy's neck, and Ocean is holding him tighter than a throw pillow at night.

This picture was taken right after Ocean saved him from a fall, but how would the rest of the world know?

"And behind it all," the reporter continues, her tone taking on a mischievous note. "Some of our inside sources are hinting at these boys' relationship off the ice. We don't have an interview with them yet, but we will make sure to bring up the question of their feelings for each other."

Will wishes nothing more than to stand, to begin swearing at the reporter through the screen even though he knows well the sentiment would go in vain.

He knew it. He knew it. He knew it.