The Favorites

by Layne Fargo

Low piano chords play: the opening of “The Last Time” by Taylor Swift and Gary Lightbody.

Stop…. Im crying

“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, Katarina. To get back to you.”

Crying

Ellis Dean: Katarina Shaw was in the building, and that bitch had come to win.

We were stronger than ever—as individuals and as a team. We could win.

Happiness couldn’t be won. It couldn’t be hung around our necks while a crowd of thousands cheered. It wasn’t a prize, something we had to suffer and toil to earn. If we wanted happiness, we had to create it ourselves. Not in one shining moment on a medal stand, but every single day, over and over again.

“I say…” He smiled and interlaced his fingers with mine. “I’m skating with Katarina Shaw, and there’s nothing she can’t do.”

“We’re Shaw and Rocha,” I said. “And there’s nothing we can’t do. Together.”

Inez Acton: Taylor Swift! Fucking iconic. Too many people sleep on “The Last Time,” but real Swifties know it’s a total bop. My girls and I were ready to sing along.

So I did what I had stopped myself from doing the night before. I kissed him.

Heath’s eyes never left me, like he wanted to make sure my face was the last thing he saw.

There was so much I hadn’t told him. I hadn’t told him how much I loved him, even when I hated him. I hadn’t told him that no matter how many changes I made to that old stone house where we grew up, where we fell apart, where we fell in love—I could never bring myself to touch the headboard where we’d carved our names.

Inez Acton: Katarina Shaw set an example for women—not only female athletes, women everywhere—that you can speak your mind, do things your own way, and win on your terms.

Garrett Lin: I don’t like that question. You’re making it sound like they’re dead or something. As far as I’m concerned, if you think Katarina Shaw and Heath Rocha are done, you don’t know them at all. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re just getting started.

One way or another, Heath Rocha and I will be in each other’s lives until we die. Even if we end up killing each other.

So say what you want about me. Call me a bitch, a cheater, a loser, a whore. I may not have an Olympic gold medal, but I have something better: a life where I spend every day with my favorite people in the world, doing exactly what I love.

If that’s not winning, I don’t know what is.