“Yeah, but…”
“You agreed. And so you either stick by your word or pack your things and go.” Her eyes flit across my face. “Anyone can go the easy route. But none of them makes it to the Olympics.”
Gritting my teeth, I cast a glance over my shoulder into the hallway with the changing rooms. Iamdisciplined and ambitious. On any other day I’d have no problem training into the night. But today of all days…I need this job. Otherwise I can say goodbye to iSkate quicker than Polina can impale me with her eagle-like eyes.
There’s no trace of Gwen. Is she back with the others?
I bite my lip, give a curt nod, and reach for my skates. The last few years have taken their toll; the leather on the sides is faded and thin, the laces frayed.
But I love them.
“Okay,” I say once I’m standing in front of Polina out on the ice. “What do you want to practice?”
“A double axel.”
My shoulders sink. “But we practiced that all day long. I can’tdoit. It’s impossible.”
Polina leans her forearms on the edge of the stands and gives me a hard stare. “You can’t do it because your technique is wrong.”
“I know. But what is supposed to have changed over the last hour? Only theexceptionally talentedcan pull off a double axel, Polina.”
She purses her lips. “You need to trust what I say and not argue. I have an idea.”
Sighing, I shift my weight to my left leg. “Good. What should I do?”
“Show it to me again.”
What I’d really like to do is throw my arms into the air and tell her there’s no point. But the reality is that there is even less of a point contradicting Polina Danilov. So I push off and begin skating backward-outward, just like we’d practiced all day long. With my left foot I move forward, shift pressure to the outer edge, and make a big swing of my arms before I jump. I attempt to focus on my right leg to use its momentum and bring it past the other at an angle. As per usual, I manage the first spin, but the next just doesn’t want to come. And so instead of landing in a backward movement, which is usual for the axel, I land forward, stumble, and fall onto my knees.
I wheeze and smack the ice with my palm. “It’s just not happening!”
“Tell me what you were thinking about.”
“What?”
“What were you thinking about when you jumped?”
I lean back onto my bottom, stretch my legs, and think. “No idea. About the jump, I guess. About having enough momentum in my right leg to pull off another spin plus half to pull off the backward.”
Polina laughs. She seems strangely content.
“What?”
“I knew it.”
I look at her confusedly. “Right. And how is that supposed to get us any further?”
“In that I now know where the problem is.” She pushes off the boards without removing her fingers from the strut and tilts her head. “Listen. We’re going to try again, but this time just keep on skating until you’re ready. Take as long as you need.”
“As long as I need for what?” I ask, getting back up. My knees hurt from the fall.
“Until you can feel the intense swirl of emotions in every centimeter of your body.”
“Emotions?”
Polina nods. “Figure skating is passion. You don’t pull off the best jumps with your head, but with this.” She points to her left breast. “Let your heart work for you, not your body. It knows what to do.”
“I’m not sure I understand you entirely…”
