I knew it was selfish, thinking like this. Maybe it was childish, but there was only so much I could take, and I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my own happiness. Not anymore.
I knew my heart would survive. I just had to learn how to breathe again, how to live again, how to be happy without him.
I bent down and laced my skates, breathing through my mouth, my stomach cramping, fighting the nausea swirling in my stomach. I should’ve eaten something before coming here, but the food in the cafeteria didn’t look appealing, and after the altercation with Noah, I just didn’t feel like eating anything.
I’d spent that half an hour before my practice crying in an empty parking lot, hating myself, hating him, hating my own destiny. I kept myself together in front of Andrew because I knew he would go back and kick Noah’s ass if I told him what truly happened.
Coach Liudmila would most probably ban me from entering the rink today if I told her that I didn’t eat and that my head threatened to burst open from the pain that went from being dull to a full-blown force.
I placed my palms on top of my knees, squeezing my kneecaps, replacing the pain of my heart and soul with the bite of my nails into the skin over the leggings I wore. I couldn’t stay here much longer and considering that my shitty performance in the first half of practice didn’t make anyone happy, least of all me, I at least had to try to be better now.
I had a competition next week—one of my last ones—and I’d be damned if I allowed Noah to take this away from me as well.
I stumbled through the empty hallway, holding on to a wall, because whoever thought that walking in skates even with the blade covers was easy, was absolutely wrong. It felt like a mini earthquake with every step I took, but thankfully the entrance to the arena wasn’t too far away from the changing rooms.
I could still remember the first day my mom brought me to the sports center. The Regional Championship was being held here, and for a five-year-old who dreamed of skating one day, seeing all those girls in their outfits, the music, the lights, and the crowd going crazy, was everything I ever wanted to have.
The first time I stepped on the ice, shaking, insecure, and a little bit scared because I had no idea what I was doing, it was like coming home after a long vacation. Everything was new, yet it was as if my soul knew it would always come here.
Mom thought I would get bored, that my fascination would die after a month or maybe a year, but here I was, thirteen years later, still in love with this place. There were days where I thought that it would be best to quit, because my mind waged a battle against my body, and no matter what I tried to do, it wouldn’t look how it was supposed to.
But nothing good ever came without a little bit of blood, and a lot of sweat and tears. The talent I had could get me only so far.Practice, practice, and practice. I could almost hear my first coach, Ksenia, yelling at us from the sidelines with her harsh accent, hair tied up on top of her head in a neat bun, and facial features rivaling those of a princess.
I could remember it all—every step, every win and loss, tears and laughter, days and nights spent here while my mom waited outside. And among those memories, Noah was in almost every single one of them. He was my biggest fan, my biggest supporter, and without him, I wasn’t sure if I would’ve kept trying to reach the title of Regional Champion three years ago.
And now… Not only was he not here, but this, my second love, would soon be out of my reach.
“Sophie!” Coach Liudmila thundered from her spot on the ice, standing right next to a girl who couldn’t have been more than eight years old. “You went all the way to Russia for the toilet or what?”
“No.” I snickered slowly as I approached the rink. “I went to China but then they told me that they didn’t have any toilets available, so I had to jump all the way to Australia.”
“Smartass,” she yelled out. “Come, come.” She waved at me. “Maggie here wanted to see you do the triple axel.”
I almost choked as I reached the rink.
“You’re feeling okay to do it, no?”
No, I wasn’t feeling well enough to do it at all but refusing to do the move I’d been doing for the last four years would be a clear indication that something wasn’t right. Coach Liudmila has been with me for the last five years, and I had a feeling that this little presentation she wanted me to do had much deeper meaning than I wanted to think about.
I was never one to miss practices, except that one time when I landed myself with pneumonia, confined to my house for almost a month. But with this new… revelation, I’d been missing a lot more practices. She knew that something was wrong.
I was too much of a coward to tell her the truth, because telling her what was really going on would mean admitting that there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“Sure.” I nodded, praying and hoping that I wouldn’t land on my ass, especially not in front of a little girl whom I’d seen around the rink, and who was always extremely nice to me.
I’d been having difficulty with balance, even while walking, which was why I tried not to do any of my usual jumps during the first half of my practice today. It led to Liudmila yelling at top of her lungs, asking me if I actually came to do a fashion show or to do some skating today.
Looking at this moment later, I wished I’d actually told her that I wasn’t feeling well enough. I wished I hadn’t tried to prove myself, because if I stepped back to reevaluate the situation, I wouldn’t have landed on my ass, bruising my ego more than my skin.
The look on Liudmila’s face told me everything I needed to know—she knew I was full of shit.
It wasn’t until I went out of the complex, waiting for Andrew to pick me up, that an all-too familiar black Camaro caught my attention. Its door opened, followed by a body I knew.
He really couldn’t take a hint, could he?
“I thought we both agreed to stay away from each other,” I yelled out, stopping a few feet away from his car.
“No, Sophie. You talked, I listened. I’ve decided that you can pretend we would never be more than acquaintances for a little longer, but it doesn’t mean I would stop trying, or that I would stop being there for you.”
