Page 90 of Chasing Gold, Catching Her

Alisa was already crying.

“Why did you do that…” she whispered in a hoarse voice, even though before she was not shouting or anything, and it hit Tora as if something had pierced straight through her chest, because this was not the Alisa she wanted to see.

“Did what?” Tora shook her head, frowning, guiding her carefully toward the bed and sitting down beside her. “It’s okay, I’m here, I came… we haven’t seen each other for almost six months, Alisa… damn, I’m so—”

She didn’t have time to finish.

“You kissed me in front of Anfisa, you… you…” Alisa stammered, her voice trembling, the words collapsing under the weight of her panic.

“Hey… what is it?” Tora still didn’t understand at first, but then, slowly, it began to make sense, the realization settling in piece by piece.

So she hadn’t told anyone.

It stung, just a little, but at the same time, Tora understood, there, in Russia, things were different, and hiding something like that wasn’t just about privacy.

And most likely, she couldn’t.

“You just ruined my whole life,” Alisa hissed, covering her face with her hands as she broke down completely.

“Alisa, I… I just wanted to…” Tora swallowed hard, her throat tight, and stood up, moving almost automatically toward the small bar to grab a bottle of cold water. She poured it into a glass with slightly unsteady hands and brought it back.

Alisa took the glass and drank greedily, taking several quick gulps, then held it in both hands, staring at it as if grounding herself through the cold.

“Alisa, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you hadn’t told anyone about us, I… all my friends know, my parents even know, and—”

“Parents?!” Alisa looked up at her sharply, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. “You’re not serious right now, are you?”

Tora shook her head. “No, I’m serious. They know I’m dating you, even from a distance, and they’ve liked you for a long time already. They say you’re a good girl… a really good one.”

She smiled faintly as she said it, and Alisa’s breathing seemed to slow.

“I… I’m in shock…” Alisa whispered, finishing the water.

“Yeah… me too, in a way,” Tora admitted quietly. “I didn’t think I’d tell them either, but for me this isn’t just… something temporary. I’ve been thinking about you this whole time, about how to bring you closer somehow, especially with all these problems with the Internet, with everything… I worry about you. I want you to come to Norway, to be with me, to train together, to be in the same team. I think our coaches would be happy to take you. The Russian champion…”

Tora was smiling because it looked incredibly easy for her, but for Alisa, the anxiety inside her only grew stronger. That abyss of horror and fear for her future and her life expanded every day, like black holes swallowing each other and becoming bigger and bigger…

Alisa shivered slightly, and Tora moved closer, wrapping her arms around her without hesitation.

“I’m serious… of course, right now everything is complicated, it’s not the right time to solve it all, but after the Olympics… we’ll figure it out, okay?”

She looked at her with a soft, steady expression, and in that moment Alisa began to understand just how serious this was for Tora, how real it was for her.

“Come here, babe…” Tora whispered, lifting her hands and gently holding Alisa’s face, bringing her forehead against hers. “I missed you…”

Alisa didn’t answer right away; instead, she leaned in and slightly pressed her lips to Tora’s in a quiet, trembling kiss that felt both tender and desperate at the same time.

* * *

In the morning, Tora went to a local indoor arena to train, planning to rehearse parts of her program and work on her jumps, but the rink was crowded, far more than she expected, and it made everything harder, because even though other skaters were confidently jumping right in the center, she didn’t quite dare to go all out in that environment, and instead kept her jumps lighter, simpler—one turn, two, sometimes three—holding herself back, focusing more on individual spins, transitions, small elements, just enough to stay connected to the choreography and the music.

And yet, when she left the arena, she was immediately met by a crowd of journalists, Chinese journalists, their cameras flashing so brightly and rapidly that it almost disoriented her and they spoke over each other in quick, insistent English, throwing questions at her faster than she could process them.

“Are you here for the qualifiers?”

“But haven’t all the spots already been taken?”

“Is this a secret visit?”