I’ve spent the better half of two weeks practicing non-stop. Maybe I’ve started to go delirious since I’ve not been eating well, and all my days have become on big cluster. Every time I close my eyes, I see myself falling on the ice again and I can’t get that image out of my head. I need to get it out my head. I know I’ve been distant with Miles after that night at the bar, but I had to. After having a few days off to hang out with my friends, I’ve needed to go back to skating everyday.
Whenever I’m around him, I’m drawn to him, and I want to do things that I know I shouldn’t. Things that will distract me. That is the last thing either of us need. He was good for a distraction when everything felt so far away. When the showcase was months away instead of tonight.
These showcases are not graded but they’re for fun to lead up to the real competitions. In a way, it’s a good practice to have in front of an audience before the holidays. This way, if people turn up here, they’re more likely to turn up to the real events. Coach Darcy says it’s vital to do things for fun in between comp season and I usually enjoy them. I love the feeling of skating. I like being on the ice and my body just flowing with the music in a practiced motion.
But nothing is ever fun with my mom. If anything, these things give her more of a reason to critique me. “Denise Beillmann was sixteen was she landed her first triple Lutz,” she always says, comparing me to one of my idols. With Austin’s situation, it means that I have to do my best. Now more than ever.
With all the practice I’ve been doing, I haven’t spoken to either of the girls much either since they convinced me to go out. They know when I get like this: I push everything else aside and I focus on doing better. Since I shouted at them and left, I have been sneaking out early in the morning to avoid talking to them and I sneak back in late at night when I know they’ve gone to sleep. Even on the few days when they’re both watching New Girl re-runs late at night and offer me to join them, I decline and lock myself in my room. Since we aired out why I was stressed, they’ve understood that sometimes I need time for myself.
I’ve been practicing all morning, doing the most I can to make this routine flawless. There is one other duet on my team and three soloists: Eva, Madelyn, and Augustus. They don’t take these showcases as serious as the comps, but I have run into them a few times at the other rink in town. We all have a strange relationship.
Since Augustus and I broke up, we’ve not spoken, or barley glanced at each other. We were pretty close with the other skaters when we were together but when we broke up, they all took his side. They all think I’m too cold and insecure and that he was right to breakup with me. That I deserved it. They only think that because they don’t have the weight of the world on their backs every time they need to skate. They get to do it for fun. They have that choice.
“Good luck today,” I hear a voice from behind me as I walk towards the locker rooms. For a second, I think it’s Miles but when I turn around, I see him.
Augustus Holden.
He’s a few inches taller than me, a typically uptight Russian with dark blond hair and scarily sharp cheekbones. He’s attractive in a way he shouldn’t be. It’s almost unfair. It’s just my luck that I see him before my performance.
He stalks towards me in his white body shirt and I freeze.
“What?”
“I said,good luck. We both know you’re going to need it after regionals,” he growls as he towers over me. My back presses against the wall, trying to put some space between us but he moves in closer.
“Don’t give me that bullshit,’ I retort, ‘We both know that you messed up our routine on purpose.’
“Ah, Amelia. That’s not what happened, and you know it. I told you I didn’t want you anymore and you couldn’t take it. It’s not my problem you let your feelings get in the away of the performance.”
I curl my hands into fists and take a deep breath before shoving him in his chest, but he doesn’t move by much. “Go fuck yourself, Augustus.”
‘Oh, you’d love that wouldn’t you,’ he snarls, leaning further into me as his expensive cologne invades my senses. ‘I know you like to watch when I get myself off.’
I take in another deep breath, and I meet his icy blue eyes and whisper between pushes at his chest, ‘Fuck. You.’
I didn’t even realise there was someone else in the corridor until I see Miles’ tall body next to me, almost towering over Augustus. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a white top, but I can only see the large expanse of his back.
‘Wanna say that louder, baby? I don’t think he heard you,’ Miles says, turning back to me before blocking Augustus from my view as he pushes him, and he stumbles back.
Is it just me or has the temperature climbed up in this corridor?
Augustus laughs incredulously, looking at me from the side of Miles as he points at him. ‘This is your boyfriend?’
I nod.
Fake boyfriend.
Fake.
Fake.
Fake.
Augustus gives him Miles a once-over, snickering like a middle schooler. There must be something because my fake boyfriend is gorgeous. No matter how irritating he is.
‘Got a problem with that, Gus?’ Miles asks and I can literally see the blood drain from Augustus’ face. If they were to fight right now, my money would be on Miles. Augustus is tall but he couldn’t hold a candle to the burliness of Miles.
‘Not at all,’ he bites out, shaking his head before sauntering off down the corridor. I let out a real breath of relief this time and Miles turns around to me.
I immediately burst out laughing. This is why Augustus couldn’t take him seriously. Hell, even I can’t. Even though this guy oozes sex he also has poor fashion choices. His T-shirt has ‘I heart my girlfriend’ written across it in bold letters and a red heart. I shake my head at him.
‘Come here,’ he sighs over my hysterical laughter. I do just that. I walk into his open arms and wrap myself around his middle, falling into his lavender smell. His arms feel like coming home after being away for weeks. I can’t believe I tried to push this away after what he did for me a few weeks ago. He rubs his hand down my spine reassuringly. ‘You okay?’
‘I’m perfect,’ I muffle into his shirt. I give him one last squeeze before pulling apart from him as he catches both of my hands, beaming at me. ‘I’m sorry you had to see that.’
‘I’m glad I was here. Someone needed to put him in his place,’ Miles growls. He shifts his weight to his left foot, letting go of my hands and shoving them in my pockets. ‘The shows starting soon. So, I’ll let you get ready.’
I nod. ‘Thank you, Miles. I appreciate it.’ He smiles at me before nodding to the locker rooms, urging me to go.
I turn around and go into the locker room. I appreciate you, I want to say but the words get stuck in my throat. I keep my composure when I get out my black and emerald outfit for tonight. I stay calm when I take off my leggings and sweatshirt. I’m fine when I step into the shower but as soon as the heat hits me, I break down.
I allow myself to cry. I give myself fifteen minutes before I have to suck it up and move on.
I cry out of the pressure, the constant torment of trying to always do my best.
I cry for Austin, knowing that I have to do well in order to tell my mom after the show.
I cry over Augustus’ stupid comment and Miles’ sweet words. Over his hugs and how I could have had more of them this week. How badly I wished I hadn’t shut him out.
I get out of the shower and put on my costume. I look into the mirror as I apply subtle makeup to my inflamed face. I braid my hair into a bun and secure it with some bobby pins before I head out of the door.
When I get back into the small arena, people are already starting to fill the area. A lot more people than I thought would turn up. I search the slow emerging crowd, but I only spot Sophia with a few other girls sat around her. I can’t see where Miles has gone to, and I can’t see my girls either. Before I can worry about that, my mom starts strutting towards me in her dark blue pantsuit: a black handbag in one hand and her phone in the other.
“Oh, Amelia. I’m glad I could catch you before the show,” she says frantically as she places her hands on my face, inspecting it. She tilts my face up to the side as she stares into the space between my eyes and underneath them.
“Hello to you too, mother,” I muffle, as her hands squeeze my cheeks before she drops them. “Coming to wish me luck?”
“Yes, and I must speak with you afterwards.” My stomach drops. Maybe she already knows. Maybe Austin sucked it up and told her herself, saving me the torture of doing it.
“I need to talk to you too, actually,” I say.
She pulls out her phone and scrolls through it, ignoring me as she mumbles to herself. She always gets like this before performances. More jittery and antsy than I am. I call her name to snap her back into reality but she’s still scrolling.
“Ah, it’s better that we talk afterwards,” she says dismissively when she finally looks up at me, her pupils huge. “Remember to stay focused. Stay sharp.”
I nod and she rushes off to her seat. I look up into the stands and now even more people are here. It’s still not as full as it would be at the hockey games but it’s something. It’s better. I search the crowds and I see them. Miles is stood up, no doubt, searching for me too still wearing that stupid shirt.
When his eyes connect with mine, he smiles wide. I lift up my hand sheepishly and wave, he waves back before tapping on Kennedy and Scarlett’s shoulders and pointing to me. They both get up and wave their hands as if they’re trying to flag down a taxi. I laugh to myself before the lights start to dim and Eva Devinsky starts her routine.
She’s gorgeous as I watch from the railing, basically drooling. She glides and spins to ‘I’d like you for Christmas,’ by Julie London, not missing a step or a beat. It’s hypnotising watching her gracefully work around the ice. I could watch her for hours if I could. She finishes with a flourish and the crowd cheers, and I whoop. I move towards the entrance, knowing that I’m next. This is it.
They announce my name on the intercom as I glide onto the ice, getting ready in my starting position as Video Games by Lana Del Rey begins.
