Unmasked

by Magan Vernon

  “Is that your way of avoiding the question?” the blonde reporter asked with a laugh.

  “I think what Blake is trying to say is that he’s here to focus on The Games. Not romance,” his mother quipped with a haughty laugh.

  “What do you know Canadian skier lady?” I found myself yelling at the TV like it was going to answer me back.

  Blake smirked, visibly shrinking as his mother patted his knee. “I don’t know how the Canadians would feel if I were to say anything more about an American figure skater.”

  “Okay, okay, we won’t force a war between Canada and the US, but know that this is one hashtag I think we’ll all be watching during The Games,” the blonde reporter said.

  “I’ll make sure we keep posting then,” Blake added, a smile finally crossing his face.

  “Now, Robert, Debra. How do you feel that your oldest and only son has finally made it to The Games?” The blonde reporter asked, turning her attention toward Blake’s parents.

  Blake’s mom, who I assumed was Debra, laughed slightly, squeezing Blake’s knee. “Well, we’re just happy he’s here. And we hope he keeps his focus on the slopes.”

  “Ugh!” I groaned, not wanting to see what else his parents had to say. They didn’t even know me, and they already seemed to hate me. Thinking I was some sort of a distraction. Or maybe I was reading into all of it.

  “Ugh!” I groaned again. What does that all mean? Last night he was all talk about making bets and snowboarding together and now... what we were friends? That’s what I said I wanted, so it should have been what I wanted. But I didn’t. He met my parents. I thought we had a moment, even with the peck on the cheek. But now what?

  Now I had to get ready for the qualifications tonight. I did what I always did best and focused on the ice.

  Or so I thought.

  “Since we aren’t going to talk about American figure skaters, what about Alexis Cote? You two were rumored to be cozying up at your parent's resort in Canada during nationals,” the reporter asked, turning her attention back to Blake, raising her eyebrows. Now my attention was back on him too.

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Cozying up at nationals? I thought you two were just friends, Blake!” I spat his name as if he could hear me.

  What the hell kind of jealous girl had I become that yells at the TV. I only did this when I was alone in my apartment watching The Bachelor, not at someone I knew on the screen.

  Blake laughed, pushing up the sleeves of his plaid shirt. I found myself uncrossing my arms and staring at the way his muscles moved. “Well, you know, I think people are always looking for the fairytale romance. And what’s more romantic than two athletes, some fresh snow, and a little games action?”

  “Are you trying to hint at something to us?” The reporter prodded.

  Blake smiled, shaking his head. “Nothing to hint at. I’m a single man if that’s what you’re asking. But don’t tell too many people. My mom might try to hook me up with someone.” He hitched his thumb in his mom’s direction.

  “Well, your secret is safe with us and our millions of viewers. I’m sure she didn’t hear you either,” the reporter said, and they laughed together.

  “They’ll be plenty of times for girls after The Games. And if Blake does as well as he’s supposed to, I’m sure they’ll be figure skaters, skiers, hey maybe even a few reporters after him,” Blake’s dad finally spoke, shooting a wink at the reporter who laughed even harder and I swore blushed.

  “What does that mean?” I found myself yelling at the TV before I turned it off.

  I sighed, shaking my head. This wasn’t me. I didn’t go crazy for boys.

  But Blake was different than the other boys I was used to, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

  ***

  “Again!” Coach yelled, even more frustration ringing in his voice as I missed another jump.

  My head was always in the game, always on the ice and my movements. But Blake had me so twisted mentally; he gave me so much hope to dwell on, that it caused my focus to be on everything but what I was supposed to be concentrating on. This was why I didn’t do relationships, hell, even friendships. They were all just distractions from my ultimate goal: the gold.

  Yet I had two golds that hung in cases in my apartment in New York. I dusted them once a week and then looked at them when I needed motivation. I planned for possibly one more Olympics after this, but then I’d be almost thirty. There would be new blood, young blood who were thirstier for this moment than I was. Then what? After skating, I had nothing else planned for my life.

  I was homeschooled due to my vigorous training schedule and never even thought about college. The problem with going to school was that I couldn’t compete at a professional level and get paid according to the NCAA. I wasn’t going to give up the sponsorship money I started getting at fifteen, so I didn’t take a second glance at college. I didn’t have experience in anything but skating which could get me a job in one of those traveling skater tours or maybe even as an Olympic correspondent. But that was it. All I had to show for years of dedication.

  “Kelly! Where is your head?” Coach Donahue yelled his hot breath right on my face. He was so close I could see his nose hairs dangling from his flared nostrils.

  I shrugged. “Sorry, Coach.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been with you ten years. Ten years of dedication and one little distraction from some Canadian and you’re all over the ice. Get your head in the game, Kelly. I know Alexis’s head is there!”

  I nodded, swallowing hard, my blood boiling just hearing her name. How did Coach know about all of this? I guess the whole world knew thanks to a little hashtag and the morning shows. This was something I was never going to live down unless I showed where my head was supposed to be and brought home a gold. “Yes, sir.”

  “Again!” Coach yelled, stepping back and clapping his hands.

  Logan took my hand, guiding me toward our positions. He leaned in close. “It’s okay to have a little distraction. It keeps us sane,” he whispered.

  “And what’s your distraction? Hockey?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  He grinned. “Something like that.”

  ***

  For qualifications, we settled on a waltz, the one that got us gold in Nationals. I’d had every turn and jump, and spin so memorized that I could do it with my eyes closed.

  Logan and I stood on the side of the rink with Coach Donahue waiting for the Russians to finish their program, which lacked the depth and difficulty that ours did. At best they would make third after tonight and by tomorrow be out of the podium position.

  I picked at the shimmering crystals on my shoulder blades. The long sleeve silky blue dress with its shimmering skirt made me look an ice princess from a fairy tale, and I was pretty sure that was the look our costume designer was going for when she put me in that with my blonde hair in a long braid.

  Logan looked equally royal in his black trousers, puffy white top, and black vest. I smiled to myself thinking about how in our first competition together the judges and announcers talked about our chemistry. Like they believed we were a couple in love on the ice, moving together without knowing the world was watching.

  That seemed like a lifetime ago, and I remembered thinking I would never be the girl that focused on a guy so much she forgot the world was going on around her.

  But that was before. Before Blake had pushed my hair behind my ear and sent a jolt of electricity through me. Now he was all I could think about. Even as I straightened the jewels on my shoulder, I swore I saw his dreadlocked head in the crowd.

  I did a double take. It really was him in the stands, and as soon as our eyes met, he waved slightly. Not only was he there, but he was sitting in the stands next to my parents and Becca. Like it was where he belonged.

  I blinked once then twice, quickly turning away toward Logan, a small gasp escaping my lips.

  “What? Did a jewel fall off? Is it going to knock that pom
pous Sergei on his ass when he attempts another Triple Axel?” Logan leaned in and whispered.

  I shook my head, swallowing to gain some saliva in my throat. “It’s Blake. He’s here.”

  “Really? How the hell did you find him in this crowd? I think every single person who came to The Games is packed in this stadium, standing room only,” Logan said, staring over my head into the crowd.

  I didn’t want to tell him that I had this almost psychic connection. Like I felt Blake’s presence, and he was a beacon calling to me. That sounded crazier than a double five-rotation axel.

  “From The United States, Logan Smith and Kelly Johnson,” the announcer boomed which caused an eruption of applause from the audience.

  I sucked in a deep breath and took one last look into the audience and swore I saw Blake wink, even though that couldn’t have been possible to see since he was way up in the stands.

  Maybe he was here for Alexis, who was skating after us. The thought of that made a lump form in my throat. Why did I care who he was with?

  Maybe because deep down I really did like him and didn’t know what the hell to do. Every time I wanted something, I went for it in full force. Like skating. I found Coach Donahue and begged my parents to send me to train with him. I kept training until I had the gold.

  But a guy? A guy was something I didn’t even know how to go about wanting and keeping. Logan said distractions were what kept us sane, but at this point, I was going crazy with my head everywhere else than the ice.

  “Good luck,” Coach said, squeezing both of our shoulders before Logan and I skated to the center of the ice.

  I stood with my back to Logan, pressing against his stomach as he wrapped an arm around my waist and I put my hand on his face, my head down. I’d thought nothing of this pose and the thousands of times we’d done it, but now I was acutely aware of his hand on me and how it felt when Blake had touched my sides and how bad I’d wanted him to touch so many other parts of me. Blake’s hand. Blake’s lips. Everything about him sent shivers through my body just thinking about him.

  I was so lost in those thoughts that I was a beat off from our starting position. I quickly recovered, but my mind wouldn’t get back on the ice. Luckily, I knew the routine by heart and could just go through the motions, like riding a bike to most people. I glided into each spin and jump then it was time for the toss.

  Logan held me by the waist, lifting me into the air as we spun together. Usually, I focused on his face, mainly the tiny little freckle that was right below his left eye. But this time it just reminded me of Blake’s dimpled smile, and I found myself looking up into the crowd for the snowboarder. And that was the fatal move that had me a beat off, my left skate hitting the ice before my right and my body going into a tailspin, hands on the ice to steady myself.

  A collective gasp came from the crowd as I scrambled to get back to a standing position and forced a huge smile though all I wanted to do was cry. I messed up the move we’d done so many times, and that was going to put us off a point. I couldn’t mess up the next Triple Axel, or we’d be off the podium.

  Logan skated to my side, our fingertips barely touching. He glanced over at me with a nervous smile on his face and his eyebrows raised. I kept my wide smile, trying to assure him that I wouldn’t mess up this time. But the downward spiral had already started, and I missed the landing, again my hands touching the ice followed by me scrambling back to a standing position as we skated back to the center ice and the final spin.

  When Logan grabbed my waist, dipping me low as he crouched over me, I put my hand on his face as we did with every ending pose. But instead of beaming pride in his eyes, I could see the concern. The fighting back of tears.

  But he shook them off as soon as the crowd erupted in applause and threw the flowers and bears that we grabbed a few of as we waved to the crowd and skated toward Coach to hear our scores that there was no way in hell I actually wanted to hear.

  We breezed past Alexis and her partner, the smirks on their face evident like they pitied us. They knew that all they had to do was nail their performance and the gold was theirs. The gold and possibly Blake.

  Before I could even dwell on that thought, Logan and I got to the bench. Coach sat between us on and leaned over as I put my skate guards on. “Where the hell was your head, KellyAnne?” he hiss-whispered.

  I couldn’t remember the last time he’d used my full name, and not just called me ‘Kelly.'

  “I guess just nerves,” I whispered, before looking up at the scoreboard, waiting with bated breath for our standings.

  I wanted to look out into the crowd and see Blake, but I knew if I did, it would just hurt more. I couldn’t worry about the snowboarder anymore. If I did, this would happen with every competition, and I wouldn’t even be considered for stars on ice.

  When our numbers lit up on the board, we were sitting just outside of a medal position, which was pretty impressive for my screw ups, but not good enough. We’d have to pull out all of the stops to get gold in the finals, and that would require extra practices, which made me tired just thinking about it.

  Coach walked ahead of us, mumbling to himself as we made our way toward the locker rooms.

  “Since Blake came to see you tonight, do you want to go watch his qualifications after practice tomorrow night?” Logan asked, bumping my shoulder.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Are you nuts? Didn’t you see how much I messed up tonight? We’re going to need quadruple the practice tomorrow.”

  Logan shook his head. “We can’t spend our entire lives practicing, and I’m pretty sure Coach will work us like dogs tomorrow morning and well into the afternoon, so why not take a break? And if you can’t stop thinking or staring at this guy, what better way to do that then watch how he moves in the snow?”

  My face flushed just thinking about how his body would move in other places than the snow, and I had to shake the thoughts of his naked body out of my head. Letting out a deep breath, I nodded. “Shouldn’t you be pissed at me right now? I’m taking you out of a medal position.”

  “Well, you did miss a jump that we’ve been practicing for almost a decade.”

  I sighed, putting my head in my hands.

  “And that’s why I’m not going to give you any more shit about it. I figure if you’re messing up it’s because of this guy, so you either need to go full force for him or forget about him. That way we can come back in the short program,” Logan said.

  “Okay…we’ll see how I feel tomorrow.”

  Chapter 7

  Blake

  Number Unavailable: Hey, what are you doing tonight?

  I glanced at my phone and the new iMessage. I tried not to make my phone number public, but it didn’t take much more than a quick internet search to find it. I’d had more than my fair share of disgruntled ski bunnies texting me the morning after I left their apartment wearing nothing but my snow pants.

  Me: Stuff. Who is this?

  Number Unavailable: Your favorite American hockey player, Becca. Now stop being a dick and come to Kelly’s qualifications tonight.

  Me: And why would I do that?

  Becca: Because you want in my sister’s pants and the best way to do that is to sit through her boring skating routine with her little sister and parents. They’re already asking me twenty questions about you.

  Me: I might show up.

  I didn’t plan on going to watch Kelly in qualifications, but when her sister messaged me, I couldn’t exactly say no. For one, I’d look like a huge dick if I blew her off and she’d probably tell her sister the same thing. As an only child, I didn’t know much about sibling relationships, but I had a feeling earning her sister’s trust was a big thing. For two, I also couldn’t deny that I liked hanging out with her family. It was better than the scrutiny of mine any day.

  “Just-friends-Canadian-snowboarder-Blake!” Diane said way too enthusiastically as I made my way to the stands.

  I should have probably said “no” to this w
hole ordeal. This girl was supposed to be just a bet, and I thought dinner with her parents would be something to bide my time, but I didn’t expect them to bring up my parents. Or get so excited to see me. It was a nice relief instead of the look of disappointment I felt like my parents always had when I was around.

  “Hey, guys,” I said, taking my seat next to Becca, but before I could fully sit, Diane already enveloped me in a big hug then handed me a plastic bag of some orange crummy-looking things.

  “Uh, what is this?” I asked as Diane let go and took her seat opposite Becca and next to Dwayne.

  “Those are cheese curds, all the way from Johnson Farms in Viel, Wisconsin. Ain’t you ever had em?” Dwayne asked, adjusting the toothpick that was dangling out of his puffy lips.

  “Uh, I’m not exactly sure I know what they are,” I said, holding up the bag.

  “If you’re not going to eat them, pass em this way,” Becca said, holding her hand out and squeezing her fingers over her palm.

  “If you want em that bad, then I guess I have to try them.” I opened the bag and reached in, my hand grazing over the bumpy, cold little balls of cheese. I pulled one out and stared at it. It looked like something I’d find after a cat puked, so I smelled it.

  “Are you smelling the cheese right now?” Becca scoffed.

  “Yeah. It looks weird,” I muttered, rolling it between my fingers.

  Dwayne laughed. “It’s supposed to. It’s just cheese crumbles, Blake. Stop playing with your food and eat the damn thing.”

  I nodded. “Okay…”

  Slowly I put the curd in my mouth and let it roll over my tongue, the burst of cheddar hitting my taste buds before I could even chew.

  “Holy shit, this is good!” My eyes widened as I bit down and another shock of spicy flavor hit my teeth then flowed down my throat.