“You’re up!” Em beckoned the four of us forward.
Our rink manager introduced us, and we formed our opening square, each one of us under a spotlight. Nat King Cole began to croon “The Christmas Song,” and my heart beat faster every second I came closer to holding Josh’s hand. When he led me into our waltz, I tried to memorize everything about the moment — the feel of Josh’s palm pressed to my lower back, the bright light in his blue eyes, the cool breeze whispering between us.
I continued to soak in all the incredible sensations, especially the exhilaration of spinning in Josh’s strong arms as we did our lift perfectly. Our faces were just centimeters apart, our lips so teasingly close to a kiss. The magnetic connection between us hummed stronger than ever.
There was something about skating with Josh that made me feel like anything was possible. He’d opened a bud of freedom in me, and it had blossomed into a new appreciation for the sport I’d loved for so long. The simplest push of our blades across the ice gave me an exciting rush.
The program flew by too quickly, and I reluctantly let go of Josh’s hand when the music slowed to its end. This would be the last time we’d skate together until who knew when. We could skate for fun after our training sessions, but Em and Sergei wouldn’t want us messing around on the ice with nationals coming up. My heart grew heavy knowing I wouldn’t have our practices to look forward to anymore.
I glanced over at Mark and Stephanie, and they wore the smiles Em had forced upon them, threatening extra laps around the rink. The audience applauded loudly, accentuated by the squeals and bouncing of Quinn and Alex in the first row. I waved to them, and their screams rose to an even higher decibel. After we bowed and exited the ice, I hurried to change into an old blue costume for my “Blue Christmas” number with Mark.
He and I took the ice after Liza’s solo, and the sadness I’d felt earlier resurfaced as nine years of memories filled my thoughts. I saw all our Christmas show programs in a mental slide show — from our cheesy numbers as gawky teens to our sophisticated ones as adults. I smiled through the program, keeping my emotions in check, but when I hugged Mark at the end, a few tears escaped.
Watching the rest of the show and all the cute kids while singing along to the Christmas tunes with Josh brought me out of my funk. After the finale, we headed straight for Mrs. Cassar, anxious to hear her opinion on our long-awaited performance.
“Dear, that dress was spectacular.” She clutched my arm with her bony fingers. “And the way Joshua was looking at you, I think he agrees.”
“I most certainly do,” Josh said.
“You need to wear it again later when you’re alone,” she whispered but loud enough for Josh to hear. I knew he’d heard it because he pulled at the collar of his dress shirt, where his neck had turned a deep shade of pink.
“What did you think of the skating?” I asked, trying to steer Mrs. Cassar’s mind out of the gutter.
“It was marvelous. I could feel how much you loved skating together. You were both very good with your other partners, but together you were absolutely glowing.”
“Yes, you were.” Mom embraced me from behind. “You were beautiful.”
I introduced Mrs. Cassar to Mom and Dad, and she talked and talked until she looked at her diamond-studded watch and said it was time for her nightcap. Once she left, Mom and Dad put on their coats to leave, too, but then they both hesitated and exchanged a nervous look.
Mom opened her purse and pulled out a white envelope. “This came in the mail today.”
The maroon and gold lettering immediately caught my eye, and I pressed the envelope tightly between my fingers. Wouldn’t a college acceptance letter come in a thick packet?
“It’s thin,” I said warily.
Josh put his hand on my back. “That doesn’t mean it’s bad news.”
“Open it,” Mom prodded.
Dad watched me with a cautious smile, and I thought about all the times we’d walked through Boston College’s campus. Dad telling stories while I imagined myself as a popular co-ed, kicking butt on both the academic and social sides. Now it had all come down to a single piece of paper.
My hand shook as I tore open the envelope and removed the letter. I unfolded it and hoped to see the word “Congratulations” jump out on the page. It didn’t, so I quickly started reading.
Blah, blah, blah… I regret to inform you—
My breath stuck in my throat.
I read each painful word that followed, confirming my fear about the thin envelope.
Boston College had rejected me.
“What does it say?” Mom asked.
I handed her the letter and slowly shook my head.
“Oh.” Her face sagged.
Dad leaned forward to read. “Did they defer your decision until the regular period in the spring?”
My head shook faster. I didn’t trust my voice to come out without trembling. Josh hugged me against him and touched his lips to my hair.
“Honey, I’m so sorry.” Mom rubbed my arm.
Dad continued to stare at the letter as if the decision would change. When he didn’t say anything, Mom started rambling about how there were plenty of other great schools. I zoned out somewhere between UMass and Northeastern. All I knew was THE school I’d dreamt about wasn’t on the list.
Dad slid the paper into the envelope. “She’s right. You have lots of other options.”
He was trying to sound positive, but I could hear the disappointment dragging down his voice. I swallowed hard, worsening the ache in my throat.
“Can we talk about those later?” I asked.
“Of course,” Mom said. “I hate to leave you right now, though.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay.”
I wasn’t, but seeing their sad, disappointed faces wouldn’t make me feel any better.
Mom gave me her I-just-want-to-take-care-of-you smile, and Josh stepped back so she could wrap me in a hug. Dad followed, and I knew what I wanted to say but couldn’t because I would completely fall apart.
I’m sorry, Dad.
I barely took a breath, afraid if I did a flood of tears would be released. As soon as my parents walked away, I turned to Josh.
“Can we get out of here?”
He wasted no time getting his bag and mine from the locker room, and we made a brisk exit so none of our training mates could stop us to chat. The blast of frigid night air was a relief. I’d felt like I was smothering inside the rink with all the people around us and all my emotions forcibly contained.
“Do you want to go to my house?” Josh asked as we pulled out of the parking lot.
I was most definitely not in the mood for any run-ins with Stephanie.
“I think I’d rather go home.”
We rode in silence, but the buzz in my head was more than loud. There were two things I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine — not getting into BC and not making the Olympic team. Now everything in my future felt precariously uncertain.
“I always thought I might get deferred to the regular decision period,” I said. “But I never thought I would get outright rejected.”
We stopped at a red light, and Josh took his hand off the gear shift and placed it on my leg. Usually his touch made me feel warm and safe, but the amount of frustration bubbling inside me kept all my nerves on edge.
“Why didn’t I take the SAT again?” I threw my head back hard against the seat. “I know that must’ve been what hurt me the most.”
The light turned green, but Josh had his attention on me, squeezing my leg. A horn honked behind us, and he finally shifted the car into drive.
“Do you have any thoughts about where you might apply now?” he asked.
“Not really. I’ve never looked at any other schools.”
He glanced at me as he curved past a half-frozen pond. “I know you said it might be too expensive, but I’ll put in another plug for UCLA.”
I shook my head. “My parents can’t swing that. They only have so
much in my college fund.”
“Maybe we can look at the numbers. It might be possible—”
“I can’t afford to go to school and live in California,” I said with a hard bite. “If you want me close to you, why don’t you stay here?”
“You know I can’t. I have to start school in the fall.”
“But you don’t even wanna go!” I tossed up my hands.
He stared straight ahead, his grip tight around the steering wheel. As if I didn’t feel bad enough, I’d made myself feel worse by yelling at him. I knew the tough situation he was in, how pressured he felt to follow in his grandfather’s and his father’s footsteps.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a much calmer tone. “It’s just… it doesn’t seem fair that you have a spot waiting for you that you don’t even want, while I can’t get the spot I’ve wanted my whole life.”
He slowed the car to a stop in front of Em and Sergei’s house and shut off the engine. “I wish I could reverse it so I was the one with the rejection letter and you’d gotten into BC.”
“You probably aced the LSAT to get into UCLA.”
He fiddled with the key fob hanging from the ignition. “Before I took it I was actually planning to intentionally bomb it so I wouldn’t get accepted.”
I unbuckled my seat belt and turned fully toward him. “You were really going to do that?”
“For a long time I seriously thought about it. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face disappointing my dad that much.”
“Like I did mine.” I lowered my head.
He tipped up my chin. “He’s going to support you wherever you decide to go. He just wants you to be happy.”
“I know he’ll support me, but he had his heart set on this.” My voice wavered, and I strained to speak. “God, I just hate this feeling of letting him down.”
Josh drew me into his arms and held me as I quietly wept. With tears trickling down my cheeks, I lifted my head from his shoulder and found his lips. I needed to feel something good, something to make me forget the bad.
We were lost in a long, slow kiss when the headlights of Sergei’s SUV flooded the car. He turned into the garage, and I waited until everyone had been inside a few minutes before I followed. I preferred to slip upstairs to the quiet of my room if possible.
By the time I took a long shower and changed, the twins were tucked away in their beds and Liza’s door was closed. I wanted to listen to my iPod to help lull me to sleep, but I’d left it downstairs, so I padded down to the living room. Em was in the kitchen, poking through the box of teas, and she looked up when she heard me.
“Hey,” she said with a slight tilt to her head and a concerned look in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
I stopped before I reached the iPod. “How did you…”
“I ran into your mom and dad on their way out.” She put down the box and hugged me. “I’m so sorry.”
I’d finally gotten rid of the ache in my throat, and I felt it creeping back in again. I forced myself to think of happy things like the pure joy of skating with Josh earlier.
“Do you want some tea?” she asked. “I’m trying to find the chamomile.”
“That sounds like exactly what I need.”
She shuffled through a few packets in the box and exclaimed, “Aha!” when she landed on the two she needed. While she heated matching mugs of water in the microwave, I sat at the farmhouse-style table in the breakfast nook. She joined me a minute later with the tea bags steeping in the mugs.
“I know you haven’t had much time to process everything yet, but if you want to stay here and reapply to BC next year, you’re more than welcome,” she said.
I hadn’t even thought of reapplying. I’d need to bring up my SAT score to have any hope of being accepted, and standardized tests had never been one of my strengths. I could be setting myself up for another round of rejection.
“That’s so incredibly nice of you, Em, but I couldn’t keep imposing on you. You need to have your privacy with your family back again.”
“You are family, and I’ve never thought of you being here as an invasion of our privacy. I’m going to miss you so much when you leave! And the twins don’t remember a time when you didn’t live here. They’re going to have major separation issues.”
I smiled a little and tugged on the string of my tea bag. “I’m gonna miss all of you, too.”
She reached across the table and patted my hand. “Keep it open as an option. We’d love to have you for as long as you want to stay.”
“Thanks. It’s good to know I have at least one option.”
“Are you going to apply to other schools for next year?”
“I’m not sure.” I blew lightly on the steam rising from my mug. “Most of their deadlines are probably January fifteenth, which doesn’t give me much time, plus there’s something else pretty important I need to focus on next month.”
“Maybe it would better to wait and apply for the spring semester next year. I don’t want you to have any extra stress now.”
I set down the mug and pressed my head between my hands. “I didn’t plan this very well, did I? What was I thinking, only applying to one school?”
“You were following your dream. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I could’ve followed it more sensibly.”
She put her mug down on the table, too, and gave me one of her determined coach looks. “It won’t do any good to second-guess yourself. All you can do is move forward and put all your energy these next few weeks into skating your best. That’s something that’s still totally in your control.”
I nodded, realizing how right she was. I’d already lost one of my two life-long dreams. I couldn’t lose the other one.
Chapter Twenty
“Last run-through of the decade!” Sergei exclaimed as he queued up our short program music.
Mark and I dodged Stephanie and Josh’s star lift and positioned ourselves at center ice. We would celebrate the end of the decade later at Chris and Aubrey’s wedding, but first we had to finish off our final practice of 2009.
I closed my eyes to get into tango mode, but they popped open when Stephanie shrieked, “Daddy!”
She raced across the ice and threw her arms around Mr. Tucker from behind the boards. Josh took a much slower route and exchanged a much less enthusiastic hug with his father. I hadn’t expected to see either of Josh’s parents at the rink even though they were in town for Stephanie’s twenty-first birthday. He’d said his dad would probably work all day, and his mom would be prepping for the birthday party that night. A bunch of Stephanie’s friends from L.A. had flown in for the event at the swanky Chatham Bars Inn.
Mr. Tucker looked about the same as he did in the photos online except for a touch more gray peppering his dark wavy hair. He stood the same height as Josh, which meant he was taller since Josh was wearing skates. His strong posture gave off an air of confidence.
“Court.” Mark pulled on my hand.
“Oh… sorry.” I turned away from the boards and got into tango hold with him.
The music kicked on, and we powered through the opening steps like we’d done five thousand times before. When we swept past Mr. Tucker, I felt his eyes following us, studying every move. We conquered the triple twist, but during the straight-line footwork I grew tighter with each step. As we set up for the side-by-side jumps, I peeked sideways and saw Stephanie yammering away to her dad, but all his attention was on me. My muscles tightened even more, and as soon as I went up into the air I knew I wasn’t coming down cleanly. I barely completed three rotations, and I hit the ice hard with my hip.
I scrambled to my feet and looked up right at Stephanie smugly smiling. I zoomed away from her and caught up to Mark for the throw triple flip, but everything felt rushed. My legs still hadn’t reconnected with my brain. I stumbled on the landing of the throw, pitching so far forward I had to brace my palm on the ice to stay upright.
Mark gripped my hand extra hard as we stroked
into our side-by-side spins, and I thought I heard him mutter, “Come on.” Not in an encouraging way but in an aggravated way.
I pulled myself together for the rest of the program, but Mark still frowned at me as we set off around the rink to cool down.
“Could you be any more distracted?” he said.
“Sorry. There was a lot of commotion going on.”
“You wouldn’t have cared less what was going on if it didn’t involve Josh.”
Drops of sweat snaked down my hairline, and I swiped at my forehead with the back of my hand. I shouldn’t have let the presence of Josh’s dad throw me off, but both his parents seemed to have some mysterious power over me. One look was all it took to paralyze me.
While Mark and I circled the rink, Stephanie and Josh performed a perfect run-through of their short. I didn’t stick around to see Mr. Tucker’s reaction, but I heard his applause as I made my way to the locker room. It was packed with skaters discussing their New Year’s Eve plans. Once I’d switched my skates to sneakers, I escaped to the rink manager’s office to listen to a voicemail from Mom.
“Hey, Honey. We might be out at dinner when you get here. I talked Dad into going to the North End, but of course he wants to go early to beat the crowds. I should still be up when you get back from the wedding, though. Have fun, and try not to miss Josh too much.”
I disconnected the call and sat on the edge of the cluttered desk. Josh and I had disagreed on whether he should attend the wedding in Boston or Stephanie’s party on the Cape. With the long drive between the two, he couldn’t do both. He wanted to be my date at the wedding, but I’d insisted he go to the party. I didn’t want him snubbing his family because of me. Why add another reason for them to despise me?
I was about to leave the office when Josh and his dad entered the lobby outside. They didn’t see me, and neither of them looked happy, so I crept back inside the doorway. It didn’t seem like the best time to introduce myself.
“You’re not skipping the party tonight,” Mr. Tucker said.
“Steph will have all her friends there. She doesn’t need me,” Josh said.
What are you doing? I thought we’d agreed I’d go to the wedding alone.
Crossing the Ice Page 21