He shook his head. “No. I’m just surprised. It usually takes you a lot longer to finish.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you still talking about preparing for skating?”
Dom flushed, his eyes darting around us. “Skating, obviously,” he said. “Although I take it from the way you phrased that you’re no longer worried about dirty double entendres.”
“It’s not my fault that you have a dirty mind,” I said with a shrug. “I’m just trying to take your advice about not overthinking. I did a bit of research and, reluctantly, have to admit you have a point.”
“It’s good to know that you’re coming around to my way of thinking. You should always do that.” Then, sounding curious, he asked, “What kind of research were you doing?”
Don’t make a big deal of it, I told myself. “Did I ever mention that I had Alexis and Kendra look up what people were saying about our skate online?”
Dom shook his head. “Why the hell did that sound like a good idea?”
“Because I hadn’t heard your brilliant suggestion to stop overthinking,” I said, my tone snarky. “Well, I did at the start of the season. I wanted to make sure that they liked it. It turns out that not only did they like it, but a lot of people said that it was their favourite program of ours of all time.”
He leaned closer to whisper, “Can I say that it was my favourite too? You know, the whole,” he did an exaggerated imitation of my hip movements from our choreography.
“Good to know that that’s all it takes for something to become your favourite,” I retorted. “But from what I could remember, Alexis and Kendra said that people liked the whole vibe rather than the choreography, specifically. I was curious if there was anything that people particularly liked, though. If it was a specific look or whatever, I figured it wouldn’t hurt.”
“And?” Dom asked. “Did you only focus on the good things?”
I nodded. “You should be proud of me. I only looked at a few things. I found a compilation video of some moments people gushed over. Once I had a realization that it was just us being us, I stopped looking.”
“Do I want to know what was in this video?” he asked. “Your vague description of it has me both curious and a little concerned that we can’t nail thatje ne sais quois.”
“Don’t be,” I said. I reached into my pocket for my phone and opened an app. With my account’s viewing history, it was easy to find the video in question. “C’mon. I’ll show you if we find somewhere that isn’t filled with people.”
Finding a place that didn’t have people milling around was easier said than done. Even though all the things in the clipwere already publicly available, I didn’t want anyone to catch Dom and me looking at a fan video of ourselves. That would be humiliating. I didn’t care if Dom didn’t hear the music that went with the video, but I did need him to watch it with his back against a wall.
Accepting that there wasn’t going to be a great place, I gestured for Dom to stand near a door that wasn’t too close to anyone else. “Make sure you don’t let anyone see what you’re watching.”
That piqued his curiosity. “You realize that making this sound like some scandalous video is going to result in me being very disappointed, right?”
“Just shut up and stand next to the janitor’s closet,” I said.
Once I felt like he would sufficiently keep what was on the screen to himself, I started the video and passed my phone to him. I split my attention between what was on the screen and the people who were walking around us. Dom’s expression was guarded, his focus completely on the clips of us. Somehow, it felt longer when he was watching it than when I had seen it.
When it finally finished, he placed my phone in my hand. “What about that resonated with you so strongly?” he asked. He sounded slightly confused.
I chose my words carefully. “When you look at all the interviews and pictures from our real lives, they were just us being us. And even the things from on the ice were mostly genuinely just us being ourselves. Not this year’s skate or the one from a few years ago, where Olga had that elaborate concept for us to tell a story, but the rest of it. Most of their favourite moments of us weren’t things I thought about doing.”
He didn’t respond right away. It seemed like he was mulling over what I’d said. Finally, he said, “It’s kind of weird to see how people read into everything we do. But it is nice to know that people think we work so well together and have such a spark.”His eyes drifted to my lips, lingering just long enough to be unmistakable. I much preferred that reaction to the teasing I’d expected for being affected by such a video.
There wasn’t much time to discuss it. We were supposed to meet with Mark and Olga again before our warmup. They would stick with us until after everyone had finished their short programs. They were vital to our success and, although they weren’t touchy-feely people, their presence helped. At the very least, they weren’t afraid of telling other people to leave us alone. At least once a season, Mark would get some sort of camera crew to give us more breathing room before we performed.
We took our time walking back towards the locker rooms. We stayed close together to avoid being separated by the crowds. Most people were good about stepping aside to let athletes go around them, but I still preferred to let Dom lead the way. Since he was six feet tall, he was a much more imposing presence to those who blocked our path. “How much longer do you think it will be before our turn?”
I kept myself glued to his side as we walked. Our arms would brush against each other occasionally, under our matching jackets. “Maybe an hour?” I guessed. I had no idea how many people had already skated, so it was impossible to tell. “Are you anxious?”
Dom shook his head. “No,” he said. He reached for my hand as we approached the spot where we would be led to the ice when it was time. The area was currently filled with small groups huddled together. I recognized the faces as people who were in the second flight of skaters. Most of them looked nervous. It must be almost time for them to compete.
We wove through the clusters of people in silence. I wanted to respect whatever they were doing to get themselves ready. It was annoying enough to have people encroaching on your space when you were minutes away from skating.
Dom, on the other hand, showed no signs of feeling like I was invading his personal space. Even after we made it through the crowd, he continued told my hand. The pressure of his hand wrapped around mine helped keep me grounded. He used the same amount of pressure that he did on the ice. It was natural and reassuring. We were a team. We were in sync. We were both shockingly confident about what we were going to do. After all, we just had to be ourselves and not overthink things.
Mark was standing next to the men's locker room door. He kept looking between the two ends of the hall. I wasn't sure if he was trying to find us or Olga. Usually, I was the last one to arrive. I didn't know the order the other three trailed in. Mark's eyes lit up when he saw us. I saw him look at our hands, still clasped together tightly. He walked towards us, gesturing for us to follow him to a spot near some vending machines. “I'm glad to see that you two are getting into character,” he said. “Although it might be a bit early for that. I don't think anyone is paying attention to you guys yet. They are focused on the second group of skaters.”
I turned in time to see the crowd we had weaved through disappearing towards the ice. That helped answer Dom’s question about how long we had left. Between the warmups, 10 pairs each skating for close to 3 minutes, each pair getting their results, and the time to transition from one to the next we definitely had an hour before our short program. When I turned back to tell him, I could tell that he was making the same calculation I had. We had plenty of time.
