Fighting for the Edge (22 page)

“You’ve been really quiet all day.” I sat next to him. “Are you upset with me over my… situation?” I lowered my voice even though there were only two skaters near the front of the bus.

He continued to stare out the window. “It’s not you.”

“Is it Aubrey?”

His eyes swung in my direction. “Did you talk to her today?”

“No, she replied to my text and said she was okay, but I haven’t seen her. What’s going on?”

Courtney and Mark boarded the bus with loud laughter, and I avoided eye contact, hoping they’d stay in the front. Chris didn’t seem to be in the mood for socializing. They took seats in the third row, and I sat up straighter.

“I won’t tell her anything you say. I promise,” I said.

He leaned back against the headrest and turned slightly to look at me. “You know she and I had been hanging out.”

I nodded.

“Well, she told Marley and Marley got really angry. So, Aubrey said we’re done.” Chris’s voice hardened on the last part.

A sigh sagged my shoulders. “I was worried something like this might happen.”

“The thing is, I don’t think Marley’s the only reason she’s doing this. I think she’s hiding behind that because she’s afraid we were getting too close.”

“And you want to be even closer to her.”

Chris shifted his gaze to the roof. “She has to want it, too.”

It sounded like Aubrey could use a friend as well, although her general reluctance to talk about her feelings might keep her clammed up. I didn’t want to get in the middle of her and Chris’s issues, but I could be there to lend an ear.

“I think you just need to give her some time,” I said. “With Marley being mad at her plus what happened at the OD last night, her head is probably all over the place right now.”

“I don’t know.” Chris raked his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure if she’ll ever take me seriously. It’s why I didn’t make a move seven years ago.”

“What was seven years ago?”

The bus rolled away from the arena, and the driver shut off the interior lights, dipping us into darkness. Chris’s pensive look became a dim profile against the window.

“When I moved to the Cape and first met Aubrey, I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. And she was so funny and sure of herself…” A hint of a smile showed through the darkness. “I wanted to ask her out so bad, but I saw the types of guys she went out with… older, edgier, way cooler than me. I didn’t think I had a chance. So, I chickened out.”

“I had no idea you were interested in her back then.”

“She never gave me a second look, so I didn’t really wanna broadcast my feelings.”

I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Aubrey when she’d told me about the New Year’s kiss. I’d never seen her smile that big when talking about a guy. Chris definitely had her attention now. Whether she was ready to admit it was another matter.

“Things have changed a lot between you guys since then. It might be a mess right now, but don’t give up on her.” I patted his leg, and he slowly bobbed his head. “And for the record, there’s no one cooler than you.”

He slid his arm behind me and hugged me to his side. “Thanks, Lil Mama.”

“Lil Mama?”

“That’s my new nickname for you.” His smile reappeared. “Since you’re little and you’re gonna be a mama soon.”

I shook my head. “No. Just no.”

“Come on. It’s cute.”

“If anyone hears you saying that…”

“No one will know what I’m talking about.”

I wasn’t so certain. Ever since my episode at practice, I’d been paranoid the reporters were watching me closely and taking note of my tentative skating. It would be a stretch for them to connect all the dots, but I still worried. Someone was always looking to break a hot story, and it didn’t get much hotter than the two-time defending world champion being pregnant on the eve of the Olympics.

Chapter Eighteen

The crowd was too quiet.

I paced backstage, trying to stay in my zone, but I needed to know what was happening on the ice. Courtney and Mark were in the middle of their long program, and I hadn’t heard much applause. The knot in my stomach grew tighter with each quiet moment that passed.

“Emily, Chris.” Our team leader Lynn beckoned us forward. We had to skate next, and since Sergei was at the boards with Courtney and Mark, Lynn was watching over us.

We edged into the tunnel to the ice, and the soaring score from
Pearl Harbor
streamed louder toward us. When we reached the entrance, I stole a glance at Sergei standing nearby. His eyes were trained on the ice, and I knew from the tight set of his mouth things weren’t going well.

I turned my back to the action, and Chris took both of my hands. His were always so warm. I remembered our first nationals when I was so nervous my hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and Chris had held them in his warm grasp our entire time backstage, not letting go for one second. Before I’d met him, competing made me physically ill. But since we’d paired up, I’d learned from him how to find the fun side of competition. I could never thank him enough for that.

The music ended, and the audience applauded respectfully but not wildly – unfortunate clue number three that the performance hadn’t been a success. I kept my head down as I turned to take the ice. I had to avoid seeing Courtney’s face because if she was in tears, I’d fall apart, too. I was already battling too many other emotions – sadness over this being our last nationals, my usual competition jitters, plus the extra anxiousness about being cautious and staying on my feet.

We circled the rink while the scores were read, and I set my tunnel vision on the ice. Markings from the previous teams in the final group scarred the white surface. I stared intently at the swirling lines, waiting for the announcement of Courtney and Mark’s fate.

“… and they are currently in third place,” the announcer declared.

My heart dropped into my stomach. They weren’t going to be on the Olympic team. Well, not unless Chris and I had an implosion of epic proportions and dropped behind them in the standings. Goodness, I shouldn’t even think about something like that.

You can be there for Courtney later. Right now you have to give all your attention
to this
program you know and love dearly.

The building erupted as their focus shifted from Courtney and Mark to Chris and me, and we skated to the boards for a moment with Sergei. He hurried forward from the kiss and cry, but he didn’t speak right away. It had to be difficult for him to go from that heartbreaking scene to standing at the boards, where he needed to be strong for us.

He looked around at the raucous crowd, and his expression lightened. Focusing back on us, he leaned closer so we could hear him over the booming cheers.

“You have the love and support of everyone here. Just have fun and enjoy skating with each other. Enjoy this moment.”

Chris and I smiled at each other, and we left Sergei to glide into our starting position. I was already sweating under my black velvet dress. I needed to get moving so the rush of air would cool me down. As the first deep piano notes sounded, I reminded myself again and again,
Enjoy this moment.

We stroked together in perfect unison, preparing for the first major element, the triple twist. Normally, we’d fly around the rink to set up, but we decreased our speed by a few cautious degrees. Chris tossed me upward, and I pulled in tight to spin three times. Dropping neatly into his catch, I ticked off the element on the checklist in my head.

Keep it up exactly like that – clean and safe.

The side-by-side triple Lutzes brought no problems, and I checked off another item. With strong crossovers, we rounded the corner of the rink, approaching the spot in the program where the quad had been. We’d replaced it with the easier triple loop throw. Chris set his hands on my hips, and I used my right outside edge to help propel myself into the air.

The cold air swished around me as I spun, and my right foot came down in a clean landing. I started to smile and spread my arms out, but then the heel of my blade stuck and I went flying backward. My butt crashed to the ice, sending a blow of pain to my tailbone.

Oh, no, no, no.

I hadn’t fallen since I’d found out I was pregnant. This wasn’t a fall on my stomach, but it was a hard one regardless. Chris held out his hand to help me up, and the stricken look in his eyes didn’t reassure me. We caught up to the music, rushing to get into place for the transition to the slow section.

Chris pulled me close as the romantic adagio movement of the concerto began. “You okay?” he whispered.

I gave him a slight nod, but my heart was still pounding, shaking me to my core. The soft, beautiful music didn’t relax me as it usually did. My body was tight, and I had to complete a jump combination in a few seconds.

Chris released my hand so we could set up side by side for the jumps, and the only thing running through my mind was,
You can’t fall again!

I jabbed my toepick into the ice, but instead of rotating three times, I made two easy turns, lowering the difficulty of the jump from a triple to a double. I completed the second double toe loop to finish the combination, but I’d just thrown away valuable points by not doing the triple on the front end.

We joined hands, and Chris asked me again, “Feel okay?”

I nodded. I didn’t feel sick to my stomach like I had at practice. I felt paralyzing panic because I didn’t want to fall again.

One jump remained – the throw triple Lutz, which we’d choreographed on one of the strongest notes of the concerto. It was our big wow moment near the end of the program that always garnered a huge response from the crowd and gave me goose bumps. But now I feared it. The height, the distance, the impact if I fell… all of my muscles stiffened once more.

“Double. Double,” I hissed to Chris.

He understood and threw me into the air with less power, just enough for me to complete two revolutions. More points lost.

We skated past Sergei, and his hands gripped the boards as if he was riding a roller coaster. With no more jumps ahead, I breathed easier through the last thirty seconds of the program. Chris held me in his arms for our final pose, and I started doing the math in my head, calculating just how many points I’d given away.

Chris hugged me as applause rang out. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I think so. I don’t know what…” I gasped, searching for air. “I panicked.”

We separated to take our bows, and I looked at all corners of the arena, taking in the appreciation from the crowd. I’d wanted to give them so much more, to leave them with the lasting memory of a performance they’d talk about for years to come. Instead, it had been my worst skate ever at nationals.

Chris locked his arm around my waist as we glided to the ice door. Sergei stood next to it, still hanging on to the barrier with a white-knuckle grip. As soon as I stepped off the ice, he let go and took me into his arms.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay.” I put my mouth next to his ear. “I just got spooked.”

He hugged me tighter and kissed my forehead. “It’s alright.” He repeated it a couple more times as he refused to let me go.

We finally retreated to the bench in the kiss and cry, and I stared at the replay of my fall on the throw. My heel had clearly caught a bad spot in the ice. A total fluke. Then the video showed me bailing on the triple toe. I bent forward and held my head in my hands. I couldn’t be afraid of the ice if I was going to continue skating. I had to be stronger or all the risks I was taking would be for nothing.

The announcer read the low technical score, and I cringed. Maddy and Damien were probably watching the live results on a computer in Canada and high-fiving each other. As usual, our program component score reflected the high quality of our skating skills and intricate choreography. I peeked over my steepled hands at the monitor to see if it would be enough to give us the title.

First
place.

I exhaled and hugged Chris, pressing my face against his silky shirt. We’d really done it. Six national titles in a row. More than anyone in the past eighty years. My eyes watered as I realized what we’d accomplished.

Sergei gave us both long hugs before we moved backstage. A parade of congratulations followed from our competitors and various federation personnel. I spied Courtney waiting behind the crowd, and tears came to me again as I saw her red, puffy eyes.

I went over to her and wrapped my arms around her. She started crying, and I lost it, too. When I was able to speak, I held her hands and looked her firmly in the eye.

“I want you to listen to me. Twenty-ten in Vancouver will be your time. For the next four years, Sergei and I will do everything we can to help you and Mark get to the Olympics. It’s going to be one of my most important goals as a coach. I promise you.”

She gave me a shaky nod as fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. I dabbed at my own eyes and took a deep breath. This was only the beginning of what promised to be a very emotional day. Aubrey and Nick were skating their free dance in a couple of hours. If they couldn’t pull out the win, Aubrey was going to be devastated, and from what I could tell, she was already an emotional wreck. I’d asked if she wanted to talk about what went down with Chris, and as expected she’d quickly dismissed the topic.

“Hey.” Chris touched my back and steered me away from the traffic in the corridor. “When we get asked about our skate, I’ll say we knew this would be a tough competition, we’re working to peak at the Olympics, yada, yada.”

“I just want you to know that I’m not going to let this happen again. I think I was so shocked by the fall and the way it came out of nowhere that I freaked out, but I’m still one hundred percent committed to seeing this through.”

“I was kinda freaked out, too. And seeing how Sergei looked, so was he.”

I glanced back at Sergei, who watched me closely. My mistakes may not have cost us gold, but they hadn’t helped me make my case for continuing on to the Olympics. I’d asked Sergei not to be so anxious, and I’d just given him more reason to worry.