She was like a Hollywood star out there on the ice.
She had the audience so silently captivated that I could even hear her blades against the ice.
At the end of her program, she struck a pose toward my side of the bleachers.
The audience erupted with the loudest applause of the night, some even giving her a standing ovation.
But as the lights dimmed, her eyes locked right on mine.
And the smile fell clean off her face.
Shit.
A dazed, almost shocked expression crossed her face right before she was cloaked in darkness.
Swallowing hard, I slumped lower in my seat and scrubbed a hand over my face.
That was not a promising reaction.
In all the times I imagined coming face-to-face with her again, I truly never thought she’d be upset to see me.
I debated leaving the show, but that would just cause more of a scene, and I didn’t want to insult the skaters.
Ali appeared a few more times on the ice, once in bright eighties clothing for a group number to “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and again to skate with a partner to “All These Things That I’ve Done.” Knowing she always hated pairs lifts, I held my breath each time the guy skater hoisted her up in the air, but she didn’t look scared at all. No, it was actually the opposite. She looked like she was having a blast. She landed every jump flawlessly, and the crowd loved her, especially the little girls in the front row. But as she skated, I couldn’t help but notice that she avoided looking at my side of the bleachers entirely, and I had a feeling that was by choice, not by design.
When the show finally ended, I waited in anticipation for Ali to come back out for her final bow, but disappointment weighed heavy in my chest when she never showed.
My mind reeled as the lights came back on and the bleachers started to clear out.
The thought of talking to her again had my body trembling, but I couldn't back out now. Not after coming all this way. Not after seeing her.
Looking around, I quickly realized there were no doors going backstage. The only access was through the velvet curtains draping the ice.
Blowing out a breath, I knew it was now or never.
I’d be breaking rules.
I might even be kicked off the ship.
But I had to try.
Pushing out of my seat, I jogged down the concrete steps and easily hopped the boards.
I hurriedly shuffled across the ice in my tennis shoes. But as soon as I pushed through the heavy curtain, one of the guy skaters did a double take.
I ignored him and continued searching for Ali, but she was nowhere to be found. A few skaters started trickling down a hallway, so I shuffled to follow, but the guy skater blocked my path.
“Who are you?” he asked in a thick Russian accent.“And where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I instantly recognized him as the guy Ali skated with a couple times in the show. He had jet black hair, a dark five-o-clock shadow, and confidence in the way he carried himself. While most of the skaters were in their twenties and early thirties, he had to be pushing forty. Sizing him up, I knew I could shove past him, but I didn’t want to piss off any of Ali’s friends.
“I'm JP.” I tried my best for a smile, even though I was nervously sweating.
“Well, JP, you’re not allowed back here, so go on.” He nodded in the direction I came from.
My eyes darted to the hallway behind him. “I was wondering if I could see Ali?”
His jaw locked.
