I didn’t dress differently for practice the next day because I knew that Ben was going to be watching, but Ididput some extra thought into my outfit. I was in my usual black Lululemon leggings, black zip-front fleece, gloves, and ratty black legwarmers. But underneath, for when I no longer felt the cold? A strappy, open-backed, ridiculously complicated black leotard that looked like something a dominatrix would wear. And makeup. Just a little, so I didn’t look as exhausted as I felt.
I think I’d slept four hours total the night before, reliving every second of our conversation at the diner. Our surface-level truce was the only way to make the show happen. I’d have to bottle up all my unresolved bullshit for the week.
Easy.
I’d woken up to a text from Mel this morning letting me know that the four-person camera crew that was supposed to be arriving later in the day was going to be delayed a few hours, and reduced to two people thanks to a biking doping scandal that had just hit the news. I tried not to feel offended that my story had been one-upped by human growth hormones.
That said, Istilldidn’t know how the week was going to play out. For as long as I could remember, my life was basically mapped to the minute, especially when competitions were on the horizon. Once again, Ben had muscled his way back into my life and flipped it upside down.
Even though I wasn’t due on the ice until eight, like always I’d padded in forty-five minutes to stretch, foam roll my body, put pads on my blisters, and tape myself back together in the locker room before I even looked at my skates. I tried to focus on what my body was telling me in the moment, without getting obsessed about the new twinges I kept feeling as I stretched.
Ben was already at the rink when I made it out to the ice, chatting with Mel in her usual spot in the players’ box. I skated across the ice to them, hoping that the stuff I’d picked up in my acting classes was making me look convincingly nonchalant. They continued their conversation but eyeballed me as I got closer.
“Damn,” Ben said, staring at my feet. “Black bootsandblades? You’re gonna be starting a new trend at rinks all over the country.”
I swiveled back and forth to show them off, a little surprised that he hadn’t seen them yet. I’d been wearing them in competitions for the past year, and they were a symbol of my new “fuck tradition” attitude. How good a reporter could he be if he hadn’t done his research?
“Aren’t they great?” Mel asked. “I was against them initially but Quinn wore me down. And when you think about it, she has a point; if she’s wearing a dark costume why wouldn’t she cap it off with black skates? Would you wear a black gown with white shoes?”
“I haven’t worn a gown in a while, so I’m not sure what the trends are these days,” Ben joked.
Switching up my skate color was one of the many changes I’d wanted once I had the freedom to actually have opinions. I knew it was a risky choice given how traditional and stuffy my sport was, but I was banking on my skill to take the focus off my costume choices. The judges couldn’t have a problem with skates that were helping me nail every jump.
“It’s an evolution,” I said with a shrug.
If the cameras had been recording our little prepractice chat I would’ve come up with some sort of sound bite-y response. For now I could still lean into my petulant teenager vibes.
I glanced down at Ben’s feet. “Youbrought skates?”
“Well, yeah.” He looked between his skates and me, confused. “Why wouldn’t I? I thought it might be fun to get some footage of us out there together.”
“As long as it doesn’t interrupt my practice, fine,” I said as I squeezed by him to drop my stuff on the bench.
“Such a great idea,” Mel said. “Love it, Ben.”
I could tell that she was already under his spell. I wasn’t the only one looking all shiny and cute for practice; Mel was in her fancy competition jacket with lipstick on. She was happily married with two kids, but clearly we were all powerless to resist the Martino Magic.
“I’m warming up,” I said as I stepped back on the ice.
“Sarah will be here in two minutes,” Mel called after me.
I nodded and tried to ignore the fact that everything in my body felt extra tight this morning, from my shoulders down to the balls of my feet. My power pulls were choppy and it wasn’t because of divots in the ice. Frank would never allow them, so I reluctantly took the blame. I actually tripped doing a simple backward jump swizzle, but Mel and Ben were too busy gossiping to notice.
“Hey you,” Sarah shouted from the far side of the rink as she pulled off her guards and sped across the ice to me. “Sorry I’m a little late.”
I hid a laugh as she skated to me, because Sarah had gotten the “look cute” memo as well. She was in a white parka that I’d never seen, and her blond hair was blown straight and half pulled back, the way she used to wear it when she was competing. She was an ice dancer who’d done the circuit in the early nineties in the shadow of Tonya and Nancy, and the era still had a hold on her.
She caught up and skated backward in front of me as I continued warming up, glancing over at Ben. “What’s he like? Is he nice? Is there anything I need to know?”
“He’s fine, and you already know that the rest of the crew is running late. That’s it.”
Sarah looked over to where they were watching and waved. “Damn, he’s even hotter in real life.”
“I think he looks older.”
She made a face at me. “Get your eyes checked. He’s sex on skates, now and forever.”
“I’ve got bigger things to worry about,” I said as I rolled my neck. “I feel like the Tin Man. I’m tired. And a little grumpy.”
