Page 118 of Chasing Gold, Catching Her

But Alisa only wanted to cry.

She felt it in her bones that with a skate like this she wouldn’t make it to the Olympics.

Maybe the others would do worse.

Maybe.

All she could do now was pray for it, because her skate had not been her best, and Arkadiy looked disappointed too, patting her on the back as he muttered:

“It could’ve been better, you know.”

“Yes, Coach,” Alisa answered quietly.

Then she climbed up into the stands toward the hockey players. Hermann immediately pulled her into a hug, and that was it, she broke completely, crying into his shoulder while he held her tightly.

And she stayed beside him until the very end of the event, wrapped in his warm jacket because she was trembling nonstop like some miserable little Chihuahua from stress, cold, and what already felt to her like defeat.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Alisa could barely remember the routines or the other skaters who performed after her. By the end of it, she was completely drained, her knees aching so badly that she took another painkiller just so she wouldn’t have to think about the pain, let alone actually feel it.

She felt frustrated, hollowed out from the inside, and asked Hermann to stay with her at the apartment while they waited for the final results of the 2026 Olympic selection.

They ordered pizza, Alisa’s favorite: ham, pineapple, and chicken. Yes, Italians everywhere would probably scream in horror, but she loved the combination of salty and sweet, especially a week before her period… and today she allowed herself everything. Honestly, she felt like she could eat twenty pizzas like that without even blinking.

They sat mostly in silence, listening to the rain drumming against the windowsill and tapping softly against the glass…

Alisa put down her phone, trying to distract herself for at least a minute, although she had been refreshing the page literally every second, desperate to see the results of who had been chosen and who would go to the Olympics. The official results were supposed to be announced at 8 a.m., but she knew, she sensed, that they would post them during the night, and she had to know whether she was going to the Olympics or not before she went to bed.

Except there was no sleep in either eye, and her finger already hurt from endlessly refreshing that damn judges’ results table and staring at the empty space where the names of the three figure skaters chosen by the committee to represent their national team at the 2026 Olympics were supposed to appear.

“Breathe, baby… otherwise you’re gonna lose your mind. Want a Coke Zero?” Hermann suggested while devouring what looked like his second barbecue beef pizza of the night — his favorite.

They were sitting in the living room in front of a black TV screen, sunk into a soft gray couch.

Alisa was exhausted beyond words. She wanted to just wrap herself in the fluffy white blanket and disappear into sleep for a long, long time… maybe even without knowing the final results at all.

Hermann walked to the refrigerator and came back holding two cans of cola with metal straws already sticking out of them.

“Thanks,” Alisa muttered sadly.

And immediately reached for her phone again.

Hermann let out a heavy sigh.

“Alisa…”

“Hermann…” she copied his irritated tone perfectly.

But she still opened the website again.

And…

And then she refreshed the page and noticed the table was no longer empty.

Her heartbeat instantly spiked.

She refreshed again, just in case…

Anfisa was in first place.