I stayed quiet, bracing myself against the brick wall.
“If it makes you feel better, my family got into a huge fight about this. My parents were furious, but they got on board because they didn’t want to lose her completely.”
I frowned. It did not make me feel better to know she was fighting with her family. She wasn’t focused on skating, on her dreams. That selfish asshole was stealing all her attention.
“It’s going to blow up. And I hope you’ll still be there for her when it does.”
I blinked hard.
Anastasia kicked off the wall. “It was nice seeing you, JP. I hope I’ll see you again someday.” She pulled a grossed-out face as she looked me up and down. “Hopefully in better condition.”
I snorted. There was the real Anastasia that I knew.
I didn’t look up, but I listened to her heels on the pavement, and I waited until she was back in the church before I started walking back to the hotel.
There was no way I could go to the reception. I thought I could do it, I thought I could be a good friend, but I already lost that title.
A good friend would’ve been able to stop this wedding before it happened.
____________
Colt was right about his ominous prediction that night. Because in the next couple weeks, everything fell apart. And in the wake of the 2014 shitstorm, our friend group was left completely demolished.
Kappy and Piper weren’t talking because they apparently got in a fight the night before Ali’s wedding, but I was too drunk to notice.
Colt and Mer got into a fight as well, and they went no contact for the first time since they started dating. I figured it was a temporary disagreement, just a tiny blip in their timeline. They’d been in love since they were sixteen, and they were basically connected at the hip. I was sure it was a fluke and they’d be getting back together soon.
And I hadn’t spoken with Ali since before her wedding.
But all three of us guys were watching the US Figure Skating Nationals on TV and hoping for the best for our girls. Kappy and Colt were watching from Boston because they were both called up to play for the Windy City Whalers. I was supposed to be on Chicago’s AHL roster, which meant I’d be playing in Minnesota. But at the last minute, I was loaned down to the ECHL for the week in an attempt to help them stay in the running for playoffs.
I didn’t tell Kappy or Colt that I was sent down, but I wasn’t pissed about it. Actually, being sent down didn’t feel like an insult, but more like a gift. Because that meant I had a road game near San Jose at the end of the week—the same city that was hosting the US Figure Skating Nationals. I already purchased a ticket to watch all the final events.
Turns out, I should’ve saved my money.
First, Mer never even made it to the competition. During a practice sessionwith her partner, she fell on the ice and shattered her knee. The injury was so gruesome they stopped showing footage. I shot off a text to her saying how sorry I was, but her phone was probably blowing up, so I doubted it even reached her.
Next, Ali’s short program didn’t go quite as planned. She stepped out of her triple loop, which left her in sixth place going into the freeskate. But there was still a small chance she could get third if she skated a clean long program.
And then Piper and her partner, Patrick, completely missed the podium, which was probably the biggest shock of the competition. The two of them were already in promo videos for the 2014 Olympics.
On the final day of the competition, I made it to my seat in the stadium right before the long program warm-ups started.
I immediately picked out Ali in her rhinestoned black competition dress as she set up for a double axel. She landed it, but she seemed shaky and devoid of her usual energy.
As the 5-minute warm-up continued, I couldn’t stop bouncing my legs. I watched with my heart in my throat as she fell on about half the jumps she attempted. At one point, she almost collided with another skater.
When the announcer’s voice blared, “Skaters, you have one minute remaining in the warm-up,” Ali stopped skating. She took the last sixty seconds to glide around the edge of the rink. While she was trying to center herself, a feeling of doom settled in my stomach. This wasn’t going to go well. I could feel it. I bet she could too, but she was warring against it. I wished more than anything that I could steal her away and talk to her for a couple minutes. I wanted to shove some confidence back into her. Tell her she could still do this.
When it was finally Ali’s turn to skate, she skate-ran onto the ice to present herself, and I stood on shaky legs to cheer for her. My whole body felt like jello from the second-hand nerves, so I couldn't imagine how she was feeling. Hockey was nerve-racking, but we had more chances if we flubbed up. Ali only had these next few minutes. She had to be perfect. But I just wanted to pick her up and run away so she wouldn’t have to do this.
As soon as her “Black Swan” music started, I could feel my blood pumping in my ears.
I clenched my fists as she entered her first jump, a triple lutz-double toe.
She landed it with a triumphant check-out, and I jumped to my feet.
She moved expertly into a spread eagle and a little footwork before her next jump: a triple flip.
