We continued chatting for a bit as a group. Lily was her typicaloutspoken self, but, interestingly, she and Jack seemed awfully familiar with each other.
Matilda also picked up on it, but she didn’t say anything. I wasn’t as polite as her, and part of putting up with Jack my whole life meant that I could give him shit.
“Do you two know each other?” I feigned innocence.
Lily crossed her arms, smirking, and a flush crept across Jack’s face, deepening his skin tone.
“We sit next to each other for the show; of course we know each other,” Lily said in a knowing lilt.
It felt like more than that, especially with Jack’s reaction. I wouldn’t have been surprised if something had happened between them. To say Jack was a flirt would have been an understatement, and Lily was definitely his type.
After talking for a few more minutes, Matilda and I set off to practice while the others sat in the stands.
This week’s theme was Love. And we’d decided on “At Last” by Etta James. The song gave space for the long, lingering touches, for the quiet glances, for the kind of skating that wasn’t just about the steps but the storytoo.
It was romantic.
And I didn’t hate it. In fact, it might have been my favorite routineyet.
It was also different from our others. It was technically more difficult, but it was also easier in some ways since it was slower.
We had mixed up our intro. For the four previous weeks, we’d started offstage and entered when the music started. But this week, we would start sitting center stage, with our backs against each other and arms loosely wrapped around our bent knees.
This was the first time we’d practiced the intro on the ice. We’d perfected everything else in the routine and had been practicing itin the dance studio, so adding the stationary lift shouldn’t be too much work.
As the music started, our arms gracefully extended out and back in. Falling in opposite directions, we rolled onto our stomachs before rising back up, facing away from each other, about a meter apart. I swung my legs around to a sitting pike position as Matilda repeated the roll but toward me this time. Instead of stopping to sit beside me, she turned in to me again. I gripped her waist and simultaneously lowered myself to the ice while liftingher.
It was almost like theDirty Dancinglift, but I was lying down instead of standing. The timing was hard to perfect—if we were one beat out of sync with each other, we wouldn’t create enough momentum for me to lift Matilda into the air. I was strong and Matilda was easy to lift, but the combination of lifting her up while lowering my back to the ice caused my abs to spasm in protest.
After a brief pause in the air, I lowered her body so it was completely flush with mine. I swallowed, ignoring the heat that coursed through my veins every time we practiced this lift.
Fortunately, it only lasted for a second before I rolled her to the side and followed her like a pining lover.
I glided around Matilda in a large arc before stopping behind her, lifting her under her arms and spinning. Matilda had choreographed this lift into our week two dance, so we already had the basics; it just needed polishing.
I slowed, Matilda’s skates slicing across the ice to find balance. Once she was on her feet, her back to my front, we wrapped our arms around her body. In the actual dance, we’d then continue on to the following sequence.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Matilda said as we unwrapped our arms and she twirled to faceme.
“I need to work on lifting you from the ground.”
“This was the first time, though. I’m sure it will be fine after a few more practices.”
I nodded and realized we were standing much closer than we needed to be. I cleared my throat and stepped back, Matilda mirroring my movements.
“I hope this week goes better,” she said, pulling her ponytail over her shoulder, a faint crease forming between her brows.
“It will.” I believed it, too. This skate was technically more challenging than our others and, admittedly, it was beautiful. Matilda had done a great job choreographing it. I hoped it was good enough to steal Asha and Alice’s reigning first-place title.
“Have you heard any more from the producers?”
“Not yet. But don’t stress yourself worrying about my problems, Stevens.” I flicked her ponytail back over her shoulder. “We’re going to smash it this week. The producers are going to love it—especially theDirty Dancinglift. If I get it right.”
“Wewill get it right.”
“And there’s been less and less bad coverage recently, too. Our rehearsals are strong. Your choreography is great. We’re all good.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she continued, “You promise you’re not worried aboutit?”
