Dom and I got hugs from Seohyun when we ran into her near the locker rooms. “You were fantastic,” she said. “You really stood out from the rest of the pairs.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling my cheeks redden. Standing out had been the goal. So why did the compliment make me feel flustered? “Mark will be happy.”
We chatted with Seohyun for a few more minutes, then wished her luck before her skate. She left with a warm smile and a wave as her coach beckoned her. Once she was gone, I looked up at Dom. “Let’s get going before people have the chance to ask us anything. I could use some quiet.” Before leaving home, I had downloaded some shows onto my tablet. I was looking forward to binging the rest of the season of the comedy I was almost through. I had been so focused on preparing for the last few days that I hadn’t had enough energy to invest in TV by the time we had been back in our hotel rooms for the night. Now, with one program behind us, I could use something to keep me off the internet.
My parents called shortly after I got back to the hotel. I spoke to my mother first and then to my father. I thanked them for their positive comments about my skate and then assured them I really wasn’t upset that they hadn’t been able to travel to this competition. “It’s fine, really,” I said to my father, a sense of déjà vu washing over me. “I know you and Mom have to work. It isn’t like this is the end of the season, anyway. I would much rather have you guys at the Grand Prix Finals, hopefully, or Nationals than here or in Russia next month. Really.” I left the hope that they could travel to the Winter Games with me unspoken. I didn’t think I was too superstitious, but as I had remindedDom when he talked about the Winter Games, we were still only hopefuls, not guaranteed competitors.
Once I had got them off the phone, I flipped through the room service menu. I had to be healthy tonight, but my mind wandered to what I could have the next night. Was it the smartest thing to have a cheat meal the day after you finished a competition? Maybe, maybe not. But at least it was as far as I would get from a competition for the next several months. And if things went well, having a slice of cake or pie seemed like a reasonable celebration. Nothing too crazy, so my parents or coaches couldn’t disapprove. If things went poorly, I would tell myself that the flourless chocolate cake was a small pick-me-up that I could afford myself before I tried to regroup for the next competition.
I settled for salmon with seasonal veggies. A boring choice, but safe. I would pay more attention to my show than my food tonight, anyway. On the night or nights between events, I liked to relax my mind and my body as much as possible. Watching reruns of my favourite old shows while eating qualified. I would then tuck in at an hour that would make my grandmother proud, ensuring I got plenty of rest. Ideally, I would sleep for most of the night. If not, at least I was letting my batteries recharge, as my father would say.
Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Withtheshortprogrambehind me, I slept well. There was nothing we could do to change it now. People online would say whatever they wanted about it, but I didn’t have to read the comments. In fact, I was doing my best to avoid interacting with anybody outside of my small skating bubble until after the free skate. I would not screw up my newfound peace with careless scrolling.
Dom didn’t need to tell me that he had slept better that night. The dark circles from the day before were mostly gone. “Did you check what they’re saying about us?”
I made a face. “Are you crazy? I don’t need other people in my head today.”
Dom’s grin reached his eyes. “I was just making sure. I didn’t give in to the temptation to check all my notifications and messages. I wanted to make sure that you could resist the pull, too.”
Once we started getting ready for the free skate, all potential distractions faded into the background. There was something about being in the building you were going to compete in to keepyou focused. Everywhere I looked, there was something to keep my purpose for being there at the forefront of my mind. The hours before the skate were a sort of organized chaos. Everyone had a look of determination on their face as they went about their business. The constant movement around me made my adrenaline rush.
Dom and I spent our time together until we had to get dressed. Since we were scheduled to skate after the other pairs, the locker room was packed with other female skaters and the people they brought with them by the time I entered. I saw a few choreographers and a couple of coaches, plus women who would skate into the evening in the ladies’ or the ice dance events. The women I would compete against were easy to distinguish from the rest, even if I hadn’t known their names and faces. My competitors were the only others with their performance makeup on and in new, never before competed in dresses rather than athletic gear. As we moved, the fluorescent lights made our costumes sparkle.
When I left the room to meet Dom, I had my hands shoved in the pockets of my team jacket. I had it zipped up to my collarbone to help fight the chill that permeated the less crowded areas of the building. Lord knows that my dress wasn’t going to do anything to keep me warm on its own. It was a showstopper with a keyhole back, lace around the shoulders, and a short, angled skirt that fell a couple of inches below my butt. The red of the team jacket clashed terribly with the burgundy of my dress, but that was par for the course. I hadn’t had many outfits over the years that co-ordinated with the vibrant colour.
In the days leading up to the competition, Dom and I had walked around the arena to scope out a place to keep to ourselves in the minutes before we had to skate. There were never many places you could go that were truly quiet or private. The best you could hope for was a less trafficked place forpracticing or getting in the zone, whichever was your preferred thing to do before going on the ice. We wanted to be far enough away from where we walked out that we wouldn’t have too many people coming and going, but we also didn’t want to be in the middle of nowhere. There was a balance to be struck, where we could look at other people if we wanted to, but where they wouldn’t be in our faces. We ended up finding an area somewhat to the side of the main hallway, down a tiny corridor that led to a locked room I guessed was an office. It seemed better than the other spots, so we made a beeline there after meeting up.
We only left once it was time for our warm up. It meant that we didn’t get to watch the first skaters of the day, but that was fine with me. As I skated around the ice with the other pairs in the final flight, I instinctively fell back into my competition mindset. It didn’t matter what I was wearing or who was watching. All that mattered was Dom and the skate ahead. I flung myself into the air for a Lutz before looking for Dom. We had work to do.
We were the last pair scheduled for the day, which meant we had to stay focused between the end of warmups and when we would be called. Dom and I stepped off the ice one after the other, but let each other focus on our preferred preparation routines. I shoved my ear buds into my ears and I turned on my pre-selected playlist of favourite songs. Dom would turn into himself, trying to focus on what we were about to do.
I turned the music up as we settled into a closer spot, waiting to be called. As I focused on the song, singing along in my head, I bounced slightly, trying to get all of my nervous energy out. I needed something to distract me now. When I over thought things, everything went to hell. Dom, on the other hand, had turned inward. He told me that he needed to visualize our program before we would go out, as though picturing it perfectly in his head would keep something from going wrong when the time came. I thought it was dumb, but he probably thought myroutine was dumb, too. Not like we would know the difference, anyway. Neither of us would ever be willing to change our rituals to test our superstitions. The stakes were too high. And so I let him stand beside me, occasionally turning or moving his hands as though to catch me, without disturbing him.
I couldn’t tell you how long it was before Olga came into view, beckoning us with a flick of her slender fingers. We broke off our routines in unison. Dom and I walked beside each other after her, a couple feet apart but still within easy reaching distance. We were a team. If we needed to, we could help each other. And if we didn’t need help, which seemed far more likely when we were just walking, we would present a united front.
I pulled my headphones out of my ears and slipped them into the pocket of my jacket. I zipped the pocket shut, even though Mark or Olga would hold it the entire time I was on the ice. Habit, maybe, or fear of losing them and not having them for part of my routine later if I needed them.
Without comment, Dom and I slid off our skate guards at the same time. The marks of the previous team were read over the speakers as I handed my skate guards off, but I let the numbers go in one ear and out the other. The applause of the audience didn’t tell me much. The only time people would boo was if they thought the marks weren’t high enough. It happened most often for the skaters from the host country and the crowd favourites, but it was known to happen for others too. It was one of the things I liked about the skating community. They were nothing if not supportive of the athletes they watched.
Dom leaned over slightly and quietly said, “God, they are taking forever to announce us.”
I nodded. “It sure feels that way.” I ran my hands down the fabric of my skirt unnecessarily. The fabric was made to be wrinkle resistent, so it wasn’t like I was making a difference by running my hands over it. Having something to do with myhands helped during the wait helped calm me down, though. I made sure to leave enough time with my hands at the sides for Dom to reach out for me, though.
When our names were read out, I fixed my posture as we stepped onto the ice. With a smile plastered on my face and a wave, we got settled. I could feel my blood rushing as I waited for the music to start. It seemed to take forever, with the adrenaline coursing through me urging me to move while my brain told me I had to stay still. The opening notes of the music meeting my ears were a relief. The performance somehow seemed easier than waiting for it to start.
We pushed off together, going through the simple opening moves. We had run through them so many times that I didn’t need to think or count beats as I went. My muscles had long since learned what I had to do in sequence, so I just did it. Dom and I rounded one of the corners of the ice, then turned into position for the twist. After making so many attempts at the quad, the timing for the triple was much more relaxed. I went down easily and extended my back leg, holding it for just a second before moving into the next steps.
Before I knew it, we finished our last steps as the music stopped. I didn’t think I’d messed anything up and, while I couldn’t see everything Dom was doing, I didn’t think he had either. When he screwed up during a skate I’d done cleanly, it was always immediately obvious from his expression after we had finished. Neither of us had to apologize for screwing up, since we’d both been the one on either side of the equation many times over the years. But even knowing that logically, it was hard not to feel the need to tell your partner that you were sorry their marks would suffer because of you. The wide smile on Dom’s face made it clear to everyone that he was happy with how he had done.
We waved to the crowd from centre ice while doing our bows. I was breathing hard, but the cheers from the crowd helped keep me energized.
It was immediately clear from Mark’s face, waiting for us at the boards, that we had done well. He pulled me into a hug as soon as I got off the ice. “You did wonderfully,” he said into my ear. Mark always tried to be encouraging after a skate. There was nothing we could do to change our score then, so he had the attitude that we should stay optimistic. On the rare occasion that we had majorly screwed something up, he would encourage us to look onto the next skate. But of his praises, “wonderful” was one of the better ones.
Only after the hug was I able to put my jacket on. As I zipped it up, I looked at Olga. She would never sugar coat anything. Even she seemed pleased, giving me a nod. “It was a good skate,” she said. From her, that was high praise.
