Crossing the Ice (30 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Comeaux

BOOK: Crossing the Ice
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We hurried out of Rebekah and Evan’s path and got ready to set up for our side-by-side jumps. We flew so fast and so strong into them I felt like I could jump through the roof. I had too much energy, and I over-rotated the triple, stumbling on the landing. Em gave us another nod and made a circle motion with her finger to signal we should do them again.

I took a calming breath as I entered the jump the second time, and I landed cleanly on one foot. But Mark had to put his hand on the ice to steady himself. My nerves became even twitchier, and I blew on my palms to keep them dry. Em didn’t ask us to repeat the jumps, so the last memory we’d have of them would be less than perfect.

We warmed up both throws and one of our lifts as the clock wound down to one minute. I was about to release Mark’s hand to do my final warm-up when the background music changed, and the opening beat of the new song stopped my heart.

“Oh my God,” I said.

“What?” Mark looked at me with alarm.

80’s songs had been playing all weekend at the practices and events, but hearing “He’s So Shy” still completely threw me. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at Josh, and he’d had the same instinct. As soon as our eyes connected, we both turned away.

“What, Court?” Mark asked more urgently.

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

I took off on my own and stared up into the purple seats full of people to distract myself, but I couldn’t block the damn song from my ears. Flashes of standing on the stage, singing to Josh’s captivated smile kept assaulting me.

I hummed our long program music and did some of the corresponding arm movements. Anything I could think of to get my thoughts back on track. Josh was circling the rink ahead of me, and I slowed so we wouldn’t arrive at the boards together once the warm-up ended. When the final seconds ticked off and the announcer told us to leave the ice, I met up with Mark, and we let the other teams go ahead of us. Em handed us our jackets and guards, and we found a quiet spot in the corridor backstage for the torturous wait. Sergei ushered Stephanie and Josh to a small room for their even longer and more excruciating wait.

Mark and I sat in identical folding chairs and sipped water as Em fed us positive reminders about our jumps. I soaked in every word she said, watching the sureness in her big blue eyes. She believed we could do this.

Did I believe we could do this?

I closed my eyes and saw us completing each element perfectly. The jumps tight and crisp. The throws high and explosive. The lifts soaring and majestic. We’d done all those things before in practice. It was all possible.

Yes.

We can
do this.

We WILL do this.

And our time had come.

Em led us toward the ice, and as the three of us stood at the edge of the tunnel, Mark pulled me into a hug, and I squeezed him hard.

“Leave it all out there,” I said.

I felt him nod against the top of my head. The young fourth-place team exited the ice, so it was our turn to take the stage. We made slow laps around the rink while the scores were read, and we stopped in front of Em for her final words of encouragement.

“You’re ready.” She patted our hands on the boards. “Take control of every moment, and it will be yours. You’ve got this.”

I smiled and inhaled and exhaled a slow breath. We’d done hundreds of clean run-throughs the past nine months. All we had to do was one more.

Four-and-a-half minutes.

Mark clasped my hand, and I took a quick glance at my burgundy dress, making sure not a single thread was out of place. I touched my curly hair bun and finally stopped fidgeting when the announcer began to speak.

“They represent the Lighthouse Figure Skating Club in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Please give a warm welcome to Courtney Carlton and Mark Phillips.”

The large audience gave us more than a warm welcome, and we skated into position at center ice, facing the judges. They watched us intently, one finger on their tiny computers, ready to punch in our scores. I made eye contact with all of them and waited for our music to begin.

Saint-Saëns’ sweeping Organ Symphony carried us through the opening and into the triple twist, and we came out of the move with more speed than we’d had going into it. I had a good feeling already, but I had to keep my energy under control. Our triple toe-double toe-double toe combination was next, and I couldn’t fly into it like a wild woman.

I pictured a clean combination and jabbed my toe pick into the ice for the first jump. Three rotations later I made the same motion for the second jump and then again for the third, breathing steadily throughout. When I landed the final piece of the combination on a clean edge, I peeked sideways at Mark and saw him in the same stance, riding the perfect landing. I fist-pumped in my head and then zeroed all my focus on the next element — the critical triple Salchows.

We curved with the corner of the rink, still flying with a rush of speed, and we split apart to set up for the jumps. Once again I envisioned myself landing cleanly, and I felt empowered as I pushed off my back inside edge. My body coiled into three tight revolutions, and I opened up my arms as my right blade made smooth contact with the ice. Next to me Mark mirrored my position.

Waves of excitement coursed through me, and I gave the crowd a big smile. We’d gotten through our two most difficult elements like a breeze. I wanted to do a happy dance in the middle of the ice.

Calm yourself. There’s so much more to go!

The music slowed for the Poco Adagio movement, and my heart rate came down a bit as we took our time with the choreography, expressing the beautiful melody. We sailed through the star lift and the throw triple flip, and my smile grew bigger with each passing second. The crowd’s cheers had grown louder, too. Em clapped her hands as we rounded her corner of the rink, and she called out, “Keep fighting!”

After our spins and another lift, Mark took hold of my hips for the throw triple Salchow, and I went through my visualization routine, seeing myself floating through the air. I swung my leg around as Mark propelled me upward, and I pulled my arms to my chest, spinning three times before gravity took over. When my right blade found the ice and I stood upright on the landing, a soft cry escaped my lips.

We’re
so close!

As Mark held me high over his head for our final lift, I took in the entire arena, and my eyes welled. Everyone in the building was cheering us on, and the applause drowned out the music. This was the best performance of our lives. It was so surreal I felt like I was watching a movie of myself.

Mark set me down, and I choked on giddiness and tears as we completed our death spiral and spun into our ending pose. The audience leapt to its feet, and Mark lifted mine from the ice, twirling me around and around in a bear hug.

When we finally looked at each other, we were both laughing and crying. Mark kissed my forehead, and neither of us could speak. We bowed to all four sides of the arena and skated around the numerous stuffed animals covering the ice. Em met us at the boards, her face a mess of tears, and I lost the little bit of composure I had left.

She hugged me with all her might. “I’m so proud of you.”

I cried all over her cashmere sweater and then let Mark have his turn. By the time we made it to the kiss and cry, we didn’t have to wait long for our scores. I knew we’d be in first place, and I slapped Mark’s thigh as the big numbers popped up on the screen. The marks were the highest we’d ever received.

The three of us hugged again before quickly heading backstage. Rebekah and Evan were about to skate, but Mark and I had to chat with the media. We answered questions while keeping an eye on the video monitors. Things were going very well for the two-time defending champions, and my stomach began to tighten. If they bumped us down to second place, then they’d be assured of one of the Olympic spots. And we’d have to sweat out Stephanie and Josh’s performance.

The federation’s media coordinator steered us from the reporters to the lounge set up backstage. The lounge title was misleading because even though there were couches, there were also TV cameras watching every move we made, so relaxing was not an option. Not that I could relax at the moment with our dream in the hands of the judges, but I would’ve preferred to wait for the verdict in private. The TV network had other ideas, though. They wanted maximum drama for the viewers at home, and that meant filming us as we watched our competitors on the monitor.

Mark and I sat on the orange couch, and he put his hand around mine. He leaned in close to me so the camera microphones wouldn’t pick up his voice.

“We were awesome,” he said. “We have to get this.”

I nodded and stared at the screen. Rebekah and Evan were all smiles in the kiss and cry. All the good feelings I’d had on the ice were rapidly evaporating, replaced by gnawing fear and anxiety. I chewed on my thumbnail as the announcer prepared to read the scores.

The marks came first and then the placement, and my stomach flipped over. We’d been knocked down to second place. Now our fate depended solely on how Stephanie and Josh skated.

I couldn’t bear to watch.

Mark let go of my hand and leaned forward. I mimicked him, holding my head so I couldn’t see the screen. I wanted Stephanie and Josh to skate well but fall just short of our score. That would be the ideal situation. For Mark and me, at least.

There was no way we could be kept off the team after skating the way we had. Stephanie and Josh couldn’t possibly top that, could they?

The frequent cheers let me know how the program was going without seeing it. The level of applause was starting to sound like the kind we’d received, and my hands began to tremble. My whole body soon followed. The roar that signaled the end of the program was so loud it sounded like we were standing out there on the ice and not tucked away backstage.

Dear God, please don’t take this away from us.

I dared to peek up at the monitor, and Em and Sergei were embracing Stephanie and Josh. All of them wore huge grins. Josh swiped at his eyes, and a piece of my heart crumbled. He’d worked so damn hard with Em and Sergei to fix his jumps, and I knew how proud he must feel to have conquered them. I was happy he’d skated great, but it had to end there. Mark and I had to come out on top. We
had
to.

The TV camera pointed right at us, waiting for our reaction to the scores. I moved my hands from my head to my mouth because I had no idea what might fly out when I saw the marks.

The announcer came over the PA system, and every muscle in my body clenched. The scores flashed on the bottom of the screen, and then I saw it. Just as Stephanie screamed and jumped out of her seat.

Second place.

Everything inside me turned cold, and sour bile rushed into my throat.

My dream was gone.

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to rip off my skates and hurl them at the monitor.

But I couldn’t do any of those things. Not with a TV camera in my face, documenting every second of this horrible nightmare.

My worst fear coming true.

On the TV screen Em and Sergei hugged Stephanie and Josh with smiles, but their eyes showed something else. Sorrow. My hands tightened into fists against my mouth. They
should
feel sad. They’d helped rob Mark and me of our dream.

Mark.

I turned to him, and he was staring at the screen in disbelief, too. He slowly looked at me, his face a fiery shade of red, like he was ready to explode at any moment.

“Four hundredths of a point,” he said quietly. “They beat us by
four hundredths of a point
.”

The bile in my throat inched higher, and I couldn’t swallow it down. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

I rushed past the cameras and ran into the locker room, searching for the nearest trash can. I bent over the edge, but all that came out were sobs. My chest heaved as tears poured down my face. And they wouldn’t stop coming. My eyes burned and ached as the river of tears flowed endlessly.

This can’t be happening. This has to be an awful nightmare, and I’m going to wake up and won’t even have skated yet.

The locker room door squeaked behind me, and a female voice said tentatively, “Courtney, we’ll need you for the medals soon.”

I had no idea who the person had been. Someone from the federation. Medals? I didn’t want the damn bronze medal. They could keep it. How was I going to stand on the podium without falling apart?

But I had to go or they would drag me there. I slowly lifted my head and evened my breaths until I wasn’t gasping for air anymore. I knew I probably looked like death, so I went to the mirror and confirmed it. My eyelids were so puffy I could barely see, but they opened enough to show me what a mess I was. The whites of my eyes were blood red, and my face was stained with tears. I plucked a tissue from a nearby box and blotted my cheeks, but I couldn’t fix my swollen eyes.

Screw it. I don’t care anymore.

I balled up the tissue and slammed it into the trash. As I swung open the door, Stephanie bowled into me, and I rebounded backward. She stared at me, seemingly speechless for once, and I steeled my jaw. I was
not
going to break down in front of her.

I stepped around her and was almost through the door when she said, “You know it’s your own fault things turned out this way. If you’d skated better at Worlds last year, we would’ve had three spots.”

Boiling anger heated my face and my neck, and it had to be let out or I would implode. I spun around and marched directly to Stephanie, stopping an inch from her face.

“You are a horrible,
horrible
person, and you do
not
deserve this.”

She didn’t move an eyelash. “What about Josh? Does he not deserve it either? I knew you never really cared about him.”

The mention of Josh’s name added another stab to my heart, and I backed away from Stephanie before the tears could start again. I hurried out of the locker room and came face to face with Em and Sergei, two more people who had me steaming with fury.

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