Page 106 of Chasing Gold, Catching Her

Tora pulled her closer, her arms a protective cocoon. “Me too… but you’ll see me soon enough,” she murmured, trying to soothe the ache. “The Olympics are just around the corner…”

Alisa let out a long, shaky breath, resting her forehead against Tora’s. “Yes… the Olympics are just around the corner…” she repeated, clinging to the promise of their next reunion.

IV

Part IV

PRE-OLYMPIC SEASON

2025–2026

Chapter 21

At the training session for setting the potential Olympic program at 7 a.m., Alisa was already out of any sorts of good mood, and for some reason everything irritated her today. Perhaps it was because the coaches had decided to complicate the program even further, maybe even change the track she would perform to without warning, because, as they said, everything Alisa had done so far was not enough — she had to do better. Therefore, today there was a full run-through of all the elements she knew, and all the jumps. Today was an absolutely brutal training day…

Alisa had already been on the ice for the third hour in a row…

“Alisa. You do understand that in order to win the Olympics, you need a program that touches people, and the quads will give you more points technically.” Arkadiy ground the words out through his teeth, already irritated himself, he hated this second session after only a fifteen-minute break, but there was no other choice. Alisa had barely managed to snack on a banana with peanuts and wash it down with cappuccino from the local canteen just to stay upright for round two.

Alisa only nodded at his words and pushed off again, going back into her elements while he skated parallel behind her, watching the trace of her blade on the ice.

She entered the butterfly element, pushing off one foot, her body almost parallel to the ice, her face dangerously close to it, legs lifted high, it was a difficult, uncomfortable element she had always hated. She didn’t like being that close to the ice, at least not with her face…

“Alisa, come on. I’m not even going to comment on your butterfly… let’s at least look at your edge work, alright?”

“Yeah… it’s fucked up.”

“Right. And at the Olympics, when your butterfly looks like that, will you say the same thing in front of everyone?” Arkadiy smirked.

“And if the jump fails? What will you tell the judges? ‘I’ve had better days’?”

Alisa shook her head and went back into the entry.

“Davai! Davai! Davai!”13 Arkadiy shouted.

She went into the butterfly again — still off.

His voice sharpened in parallel with rising irritation, because she was tired and it showed in each step she took.

Alisa clenched her teeth and tried again. This time better, though she nearly pitched forward, almost smashing her face into the ice.

Arkadiy rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his chest. “Again.”

Alisa exhaled sharply and went in once more… and this time it held, barely, but she could already feel her left boot biting into her skin, rubbing raw at the side, irritation turning sharp and wet, she knew that feeling, blood soaking through the sock into the boot.

Blyat’. Blyat’. Blyat’.

“Well, it’s acceptable. But still not what I want to see from you, Alisa.”

She felt tears press at her eyes.

It was one of those days, the kind where every mistake scraped something raw inside her, where even breathing wrong felt like failure, and today of all days, she had to absorb new choreography on top of it. There was no mercy from the ice.

She clenched her jaw and kept going. They moved on through the elements, and then into spins, and somewhere in the back of her mind she realized jumps would probably come later, in the evening…

She wasn’t sure she would survive until then.

Standing in the center of the rink, she felt it rising, that sharp, helpless urge to just break, to drop and to cry right there on the ice in front of everyone…