“She looks clean as hell.”
“No surprise there,” I answered. I wanted to stop staring at Ayumi, but she was just too magnetic, a mix of balletic poise and strength.
“She’s a mathlete, though,” Mel said with a shrug. “I swear I can see her calculating her score as she skates.”
She did a flawless triple axel.
“Wish I could multitask like that.”
Mel refocused on me. “You won’t have to. You’ve been so consistent there’s no need for you to shove in more technical elements at the last minute. Skate your programs exactly the way you’ve been during practice and you’ll be fine. Better than fine.”
I nodded and turned to survey the rest of my competition out on the ice. Everyone was in their own world, skating to music that only they could hear. We didn’t have the leeway to skate as long as we were used to given the multi-use arena, so I needed to stop obsessing about the shitty ice, or how amazing Beatrix Syers was looking, or wondering if Petra Lurz seemed stiff or if I was just hoping that she was, and focus on myself.
Analyzing other skaters was another old habit that resurfaced now and then. Carol used to force me to study my competition’s performances, which only served to make me second-guess my own abilities. Mel helped me realize that the only person I had to beat was myself. She audited what everyone else was doing to strategize the strength of my performance against the other programs, but insisted that I block them out and focus on myself.
“How do you feel? How’s your body?”
I did a quick inventory. “The usual twinges plus a hint of jet lag, but overall I feel great.”
Such a difference from last time. I’d spent my first Olympics pretending my injuries were ignorable. It seemed impossible to feel this good, especially given all the interruptions in the lead-up.
Although maybe those very interruptions were the reasonwhyI felt so good?
“Hey, there’s Ben and his crew.” Mel pointed across the ice, where he was doing a rinkside interview with Yena Shí from Team China. “Have you guys connected since you got here?”
My cheeks went hot and chest constricted, because it was my first time seeing him in Milan. As much as I wanted to get together I’d held off even suggesting that we try to meet. And he’d mentioned how jammed up his schedule was trying to pack in as many interviews as possible. With five venues spread throughout the countryside, I couldn’t believe that I was lucky enough to be in the same town as him, let alone the same building. He’d told me that the fullScoreteam was on-site, which meant that he needed to revert to hyperprofessional mode.
“We’ve exchanged a couple of texts,” I replied.
Which I was trying not to worry about. We’d agreed to low contact but I sort of assumed we’d at least text more frequentlyonce we were both in Milan. It wasn’t like he was ghosting me, but our communication definitely felt different than when we were stateside. Less cheery and more “just the facts.” But again, he was busy too, and sticking to the plan we’dbothagreed to.
I squinted to try to figure out who else was with him, because I didn’t see Neil behind the camera, or Hailey, for that matter.
“Do you know who the blond ponytail woman is who’s standing behind him?” I asked Mel.
Even at a distance she telegraphed “I’m important” energy. She was almost as tall as Ben and had perfect posture.
Mel craned her neck. “Pretty sure that’s Kim Overton. I stalked her before I responded to her initial email about doing the show.”
His boss. Or, his temporary boss at the moment. My stomach clenched when I thought about how different our time in Woodspring would’ve been if she’d been there as well, along with the rest of the crew. I focused on the camera guy. Baseball cap, gray hair, with a middle-aged paunch.
Definitely not the sort of person who’d jump at the chance to go sledding in a blizzard.
I watched the interview process with a different eye now, since I’d been part of the editorial discussions that went into creating a show. I’d been the subject of plenty of interviews throughout my career, but my time with Ben, Neil, and Hailey had opened my eyes to just how much went into crafting a story, and how everything from the background music selected to the camera angles could influence the viewers’ reaction to a piece.
I’d been gifted with the kindest version of my story possible. Aside from the four minutes he’d warned me about, the show had been perfect. Even the snippet with my parents. We looked like a normal family.
“Are you doing anything with him here? A follow-up interview?” Mel asked.
I nodded, still staring at what was happening on the other side of the rink and hoping that he’d feel my gaze and glance over. “Yeah, he mentioned stealing some time when I could fit it in. Nothing scheduled yet.”
Ben was partially obstructed behind a post so I squinted to watch Kim instead. The perma-frown and tightly crossed arms told me everything I needed to know.
I’d gottensuperlucky with my skeleton crew. Thank you, genetic doping.
“I understand how hard it is for you to look away from Ben, but let’s get moving,” Mel joked. “Are you all warmed up and ready?”
I ignored the first part. “I am. Let’s go.”
