Crossing the Ice

by Jennifer Comeaux

  Four Continents? That event was in Korea in ten days. No way would I be in any kind of mental shape to compete there. Worlds wasn’t until March, but…

  “I’m done,” Mark repeated. “That was the best we’ve ever friggin skated, and it wasn’t good enough. I’m not doing this anymore. Consider this my official retirement statement.”

  He stalked off to the locker room, and I stared down at the concrete floor. So that was the end of our partnership. I’d expected a grand finale on Olympic ice where we’d stand on the painted rings and celebrate a decade of skating together.

  “Court, can we talk?” Em asked.

  I looked up at the woman who’d been my role model since I was twelve years old. My coach. My mentor. My friend. But all I saw now was the person who had broken her promise and had broken my heart.

  “I can’t,” I said, my voice wavering.

  I changed out of my costume as quickly as I could and headed for Riverfront Park. The air smelled of rain, and I trudged through the small puddles and paused on the bridge. Resting my elbows on the railing, I closed my eyes and listened to the rushing water, hoping the peaceful sound would ease the tightness in my chest.

  “Court?”

  I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who’d spoken my name. The tug on my heart said it all.

  I felt Josh stand beside me, and his hand touched the small of my back. Tears pricked the backs of my eyelids.

  “Court, I’m so—”

  “Don’t.” I moved away from him. “Please don’t say you’re sorry.”

  He pushed his hand through his hair. “I… I don’t know what else to say…”

  “You can’t be sad. You have to enjoy this and be happy. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

  “I can’t be happy when you’re in so much pain.”

  I stared at him, letting what he’d said sink in. If our positions were reversed — if I’d made the team and he hadn’t — I knew I would be happy. I would feel awful for him, but I’d be more happy than sad. Was I a terribly selfish person? Maybe I didn’t know what it meant to love someone after all.

  “Then we should continue to keep our distance,” I said.

  I didn’t think he could possibly look any more distraught, but my words brought a new level of sadness to his eyes.

  “Are you using this as an excuse to push me further away?”

  I lowered my gaze and hugged my arms to my body. If my feelings for him weren’t as real as I’d thought, I needed more time to figure out what I wanted. Nothing made any sense anymore.

  “It’s just… it’s best this way. For both of us.”

  “I know you’re scared about the future, but I want to be here for you now.”

  “You can’t. You can’t be the one to comfort me.” My voice became higher and shakier. “You’re the reason I’m in pain.”

  He took a hard swallow. “Court—”

  “I can’t be around you, and you’re better off not being around me.”

  I left before he could try to stop me. I hurried through the park, trembling from the cold and from holding back the sob in my throat. If I didn’t truly love Josh, then why did walking away from him hurt so much?

  ****

  “I’d rather go jump in the ice-cold river than do this,” Mark muttered.

  I couldn’t say I disagreed. We stood beside the Fan Fest stage outside the mall with our fellow medalists, waiting for the pairs victory ceremony to begin. The event organizers had thought it would be a treat for the fans to see us on stage and listen to a Q&A session with us. They obviously hadn’t considered that the medalists who hadn’t made the Olympic team wouldn’t exactly be in a celebratory mood.

  Only a few hours had passed since the competition had ended, and my eyes still felt swollen. I’d redone my make-up so I wouldn’t look completely pitiful, but I couldn’t hide the evidence of all the crying I’d done. It would’ve been a lot more convenient if they’d held the event during daylight when I could wear sunglasses.

  Josh and Stephanie stood ahead of us with their parents, and I turned so my back faced them. Josh had respected my request and hadn’t spoken to me. From what I’d seen he wasn’t doing much speaking to anyone. His parents and Stephanie seemed to be dominating the conversation while he quietly observed the large crowd.

  The emcee called the four teams up to the stage, and I bundled my knit scarf tighter around my neck. If at any point I felt like I was going to cry, I could choke myself until the urge subsided. The bright lights on the stage blinded me from seeing faces in the audience, but I could hear the loud cheers. Someone began chanting, “USA! USA!” and it quickly spread through the crowd.

  I tugged hard on the fringed ends of my scarf.

  Mark stuck his hands in his jacket and clenched his jaw. I seriously feared he might go postal if he was asked about the competition. And if I tried to step in, I’d probably have an emotional meltdown. That would be the perfect ending to this terrible day — Mark spewing curse words and me sobbing uncontrollably in front of hundreds of people.

  I zoned out while the emcee talked to Rebekah and Evan but lifted my head when he asked Josh about making the Olympic team. Josh leaned into the microphone and cleared his throat.

  “It um… it hasn’t really sunk in yet. But we’re excited to go to Vancouver and represent U.S. pairs.”

  Stephanie grabbed the mic. “It’s an absolute dream come true. This is the best day of my life.”

  Tug. Tug. Tug.

  The emcee came over to Mark and me, and I held my breath. Please don’t mention the Olympics. Please don’t mention the Olympics.

  “Courtney and Mark,” the gray-haired man said as he glanced at the card in his hand. “How have you enjoyed these championships here in Spokane?”

  How have I enjoyed the championships? Can’t you see I’m in a state of total devastation?!

  Mark looked at me, and I scrambled to think of something to say. It was probably best he not speak, but now I had to pull myself together and address the crowd without cracking.

  “Everyone has been so nice and supportive,” I said. “They’ve made us feel very welcome here.”

  The audience applauded as did the emcee. “I’m so glad to hear that. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you all for letting us share in your triumphs and your Olympic journey. How about another round of applause for these wonderful athletes?”

  The fans erupted with cheers, and I managed a weak smile. I couldn’t stand to hear the word Olympic any longer. And I was going to hear nothing but that over the next week in Spokane. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t stay there. Besides all the Olympic hype, Josh would be there all week because he and Stephanie had to perform in the Exhibition and attend the fancy team dinner. I’d run into him everywhere.

  As soon as I got back to the hotel I changed my flight to go home with Mom and Dad the next day. I’d promised Liza I’d be her roommate in Spokane, but she would have to understand. She’d texted me how sorry she was after the competition, one of many sympathy texts I’d received from friends and family, some I hadn’t talked to in forever.

  I paused in the middle of packing and sat beside the pile of clothes on the bed. As I was about to call Liza, my skate bag in the corner of the room caught my eye. I’d flung it there when I’d come back from the arena.

  I was never going to roll that bag to another practice, onto another bus, into another arena. I was never going to have the chance to compete again.

  My eyes brimmed with tears, and I brought my knees up to my chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. I hadn’t prepared myself for my final skate, and now it was already gone. I laid my head on my knees and wept again, not because of the four hundredths of a point, but for the huge part of my life that was over.

  When I’d cried myself out and cleared my vision to see the phone, I took a deep breath and dialed Liza. It rang five times before she answered with a sad, “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “How
are you doing?”

  “Well, I’ve gone two minutes without crying, so that’s an improvement.”

  “I’m so, so sorry.”

  I reclined back against the plump pillows and stared at the ceiling. “I have to talk to you about next week. I can’t stay here. It would just be too hard.”

  “You’re leaving Spokane?” She grew louder.

  “I’m sorry. I know you wanted me to room with you so your mom wouldn’t, but I have to go home. This place is all about skating and the Olympics and I can’t handle it.”

  “But you said you’d be there.” Disappointment laced every word. “We’ll stay in the room when I’m not practicing and competing. We can eat room service and watch DVDs. I just got the second season of Gossip Girl.”

  I rubbed my forehead. I hated bailing on Liza when she needed a friend. She was going to be super nervous competing for the first time as a senior at nationals. But I didn’t know if I’d be the best company for her with how upset and bitter I was. She needed positive energy around her, and there was nothing positive about me right now.

  “I’m really sorry, but I already changed my flight. I’m going home tomorrow.”

  She stayed quiet for a minute. “Then I guess I’ll have my mom breathing down my neck twenty-four-seven.”

  “Call me anytime you need to talk.”

  “I don’t wanna bother you.”

  “It’s not a bother.”

  Liza said she had to get to sleep, but I could tell she was just too disappointed to talk. I let her go, but not before apologizing again. After tossing the phone onto the bed, I covered my face with my hands.

  Can this day just end already?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I crammed the last bite of chocolate cannoli into my mouth and closed the empty pastry box. I’d discovered one of the perks of no longer being a competitive skater — I could gorge myself on whatever dessert or junk food I wanted. Dad had gone to Modern Pastry after work three times the past week just to get my favorite cannoli and Italian cookies.

  Both Mom and Dad had been so caring and understanding. I’d spent the week at their apartment trying to get a handle on all my overwhelming emotions. I hadn’t wanted to be alone at Em and Sergei’s house, and I wasn’t sure when I could go back there. My anger toward them had subsided, but I still didn’t know what to say to them. Em had left me voicemails, all of which I’d left unanswered. A phone conversation didn’t seem right after everything we’d been through.

  “Is the last group on yet?” Mom asked through the cut-out between the kitchen and living room.

  I glanced at the TV where the top six ladies, including Liza, had gathered beside the ice. They all wore the same intense face, one I knew very well as the “Oh my God, I’m about to skate the most important program of my life” look.

  “They’re getting ready to warm up,” I said.

  Mom and I had been watching the ladies’ free skate all evening while Dad worked in the bedroom. Hearing the announcers talk about the Olympics caused twinges of anger to flare in my gut, but I was feeling more anxious than upset. Liza sat in third place after the short program, and there were three spots on the Olympic team for the ladies.

  Mom rejoined me on the sofa after the warm-up, and we watched the first four girls in the group skate well, putting the pressure on Liza. She had the most technically difficult free skate planned, so all she had to do was survive her nerves. It sounded so easy, but I knew how hard it was. I still didn’t know how I’d skated the best program of my life with so much on the line.

  And it hadn’t mattered.

  My chest tightened, and I picked up one of the blue throw pillows and wrapped it in my arms. How long would it be until I stopped having these emotional episodes? One minute I was fine and then the next I was on the verge of tears.

  I let out a slow breath and focused on the TV. Liza smiled as she got a final pep talk from Sergei and her New York coach Sandra.

  “She looks confident,” Mom said.

  “She should be. I swear, she hardly ever misses a jump at practice. She just has to trust her technique and not think too much.”

  Liza skated to her starting spot on the ice and smoothed the long sleeves of her purple dress. Once she struck her opening pose, the music of Sibelius began, and she gracefully pushed across the ice toward her first jump combination.

  Mom and I both leaned forward, and I squeezed the pillow harder as Liza went up into the air. She rotated each triple in the combination so quickly they looked like doubles, and when she landed on one foot, I pumped my fist. Every time she completed another jump in the program cleanly I slapped the pillow and edged further forward. My heart was beating at a nerve-wracking pace.

  As Liza set up for her seventh and final triple, I clutched Mom’s arm, holding my breath during the jump. Upon the perfect landing I shrieked, “She did it!”

  Liza became a purple blur in her ending scratch spin, and the crowd flew to its feet. Mom and I jumped up from the couch and gave her a standing ovation of our own. The camera flashed to the coaches at the boards, and Sergei had both arms thrust into the air. Then it panned to the stands and showed Liza’s mom, Em, and the twins. Em was bawling.

  I swallowed hard. I wished I was there to hug her and celebrate with her and Sergei and Liza. I was supposed to be there.

  My eyes stayed peeled to the TV as I sank onto the couch. Liza skated to the boards with her hands over her mouth, and she dove into Sergei’s arms once she reached him. I felt like I was watching the exact scene I’d lived one week ago. The perfect skate at the perfect moment. I pushed aside my sadness and crossed all my fingers and toes that Liza would have better luck with the judges than I’d had.

  I gnawed on my thumbnail as the wait for the scores dragged on. Liza would be the youngest person by far on the Olympic team, but she was a junior world champion and one of the biggest future stars for American figure skating. They wouldn’t be stupid enough to hold her back because of her senior level inexperience, would they?

  The marks came up, and I scanned the numbers for the placement.

  Second!

  Liza broke down and was smothered with hugs from Sergei and Sandra. I couldn’t stop my tears either, and Mom scooted over and put her arm around me.

  “I’m so proud of her,” I said.

  Mom rubbed my shoulder. “I know it has to be a little tough for you to watch, though.”

  I sniffed and looked down at my lap. I couldn’t deny the small pangs of envy that pricked just below the surface of my happiness.

  “I wish we could’ve been on the team together. We would’ve been roommates in the Village.” I wiped my eyes and smiled a little. “But I really am so excited and happy for her.”

  The final skater took the ice, but I didn’t pay much attention to her performance. All I thought about was Liza and Josh and how my feelings toward their accomplishments had differed.

  “Why couldn’t I have been this happy for Josh?” I said quietly.

  “Honey, that was a different situation. You and Josh were competing against each other. It’s natural that his success was difficult to swallow.”

  I was still trying to swallow it. It was like a permanent lump in my throat. But there was another reason for the pain I felt. I missed Josh more than I thought possible. I missed everything about him but especially his friendship.

  I had to stay away from him once he returned from Spokane, though. Being around him could bring up all the bad feelings from nationals that I was trying to move past. Plus, I didn’t want to drag him down with my issues when he should be enjoying every moment of preparing for the Olympics.

  If the two of us were to see each other, there was entirely too much potential for emotional disaster.

  ****

  The coffee shop hummed with activity on the cold afternoon, and it took me a minute to spot Mark in the back of the room. I gave him a little wave before going to the counter. When I had my hot chocolate in hand, I met him
at the small table he’d secured.

  He stood and gave me a tentative hug. “Thanks for driving down.”

  We hadn’t spoken since we’d left Spokane over a week ago, and I was happy when he’d called and asked to meet on the Cape. We’d both needed time to decompress after nationals, but I was ready to talk. Our relationship was one of a few in my life currently in disarray, and I wanted to fix that.

  I sat across from Mark and took a tiny sip of my steaming-hot drink. “How have you been?”

  He played with the lid on his coffee. “It’s been weird not going to the rink. I still wake up early every morning and feel like I need to be somewhere.”

  “I have the same feeling.”

  “It’s kind of a relief, though. Not having that stress or that pressure anymore.”

  “Yeah…” I went to take another sip but stopped before I burned my tongue again. “I miss it a lot, though. Being on the ice, in particular.”

  We sat in silence, both fiddling with our cups. Mark finally set his down and folded his arms on the table.

  “I’m really sorry about the way I quit and walked out on you,” he said. “You deserved better than that.”

  “You were upset. Neither of us was thinking clearly at that moment.”

  “Still. It was a crappy thing to do. I should’ve apologized when I saw you at the victory ceremony, but I was too mad at the world to think about anything else.”

  I winced just thinking about that awful day. “It hurt that you didn’t talk to me before you said, ‘I’m done,’ but I didn’t blame you for not wanting to skate again after what happened.”

  “Do you?” He tilted his head slightly. “Wanna skate again?”

  I paused and thought about the thrill of competition, the rush of nervous energy that was so scary yet so exciting. It had been such a big part of my life for so long. Saying goodbye to it was harder than I’d expected. But I had to move on. I had to start looking forward to whatever came next.

  “It would’ve been nice to have some closure, but it’s probably best that nationals was our final competition. I don’t think we could skate any better than we did.”