Page 115 of Chasing Gold, Catching Her

Her syrniki were ready, the tea poured, and she ate slowly, watching the lecture, letting the voice wash over her thoughts, until her phone buzzed.

Tora.

Tora: Sorry, i was on my way to the arena. Good luck today, babe, you can do anything! If there’s connection tonight, call me. Love you, miss you.

Alisa smiled faintly, something soft finally breaking through the tension.

Alisa: I hope so… Thank you. I love you too.

Alisa answered Tora quickly and smiled, the day got a little better.

Hermann was about to pick her up again that morning since they had practice in the neighboring hall today, and the internal competition was being held in the small arena. He had promised her a few days ago that when she performed, he’d come watch and cheer for her, shout when necessary, whistle, clap, whatever, basically make some noise like it actually mattered. And Alisa appreciated that more than she said out loud.

She had always loved when her grandmother sat in the stands and cheered for her during competitions… those memories were warm to her heart, her grandmother had been there for all the important moments, like some quiet constant in a life that otherwise kept shifting under her feet.

Outside, it was cold again and it was raining.

Endless, annoying rain.

Alisa stood by the window for a moment, finishing her breakfast and staring at the cathedral across the street, gray against the gray sky, when her phone buzzed, it was Hermann.

“Are you coming out?”

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

She shoved a pair of fresh socks into her bag, threw on yesterday’s tracksuit without even thinking about it, and rushed out of the apartment, running straight to the car waiting near the entrance.

“Hi,” she said, slipping into the passenger seat.

“Morning,” Hermann nodded.

In the car, Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit was blasting, and Alisa, catching the lyrics, just huffed out a bitter half-laugh.

“Fuck… yeah, that’s exactly my mood today. I want to kill…” she muttered, rolling her eyes and clenching her jaw so hard it hurt.

“Worried about the qualifiers?” Hermann glanced at her.

“Very.”

“I’ve only seen part of your choreography,” he shrugged, “but it already looks Olympic-level to me.”

“Did you really watch mine?” she shot back. “I thought you were busy staring at that cherry-colored girl.”

Hermann chuckled. “Well, she’s got a good choreography too. But you? You can fight for first place today. Where’s your competitive spirit?”

“Died back in March… when—”

She cut herself off abruptly. The memory hit too fast, that ISU competition, the pair program, Lev’s injury, the way everything had collapsed in a second while she somehow walked away from it.

Hermann didn’t push it. He just shrugged slightly, and Alisa shook her head, brushing it off like she always did.

She pressed her lips together, then said what had been sitting in her chest all morning.

“I’m scared I won’t land everything. That I’ll mess up the elements, and they just… won’t pick me. There are skaters from Moscow here too, a lot of strong ones, higher rankings than mine…”

“Rankings are nice,” Hermann said calmly, “but they’re not everything. You’re like a hidden diamond, you know? Our secret weapon. We’ll send you to the 2026 Olympics and shock everyone.”

Alisa let out a short laugh.