Chapter 1
Deep Breaths. In and out. In and out. I thought. My coach's mutters and last minute pointers were deaf to my ears. I saw his mouth moving, but could hear no words. I was vaguely aware of a crowd cheering in the background, but it was all muted, almost silent. The only thing I could hear was the heavy beating of my heart, and the anxious puffs of my breath.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Before I could even comprehend what was happening, I was already skating towards the center of the ice. The vast expanse was scintillating, shining beautifully, and all I could see was everything I had worked toward to this moment. I could hear the swoosh of my rental skates of practice after practice, hours and hours late into the night and early mornings, just me and the ice. I felt the cool, crisp air on my face, kissing my flushed cheeks and swiftly caressing them as I twirl and jump. The satisfying vibration and clack of my blade on the ice as I land an immaculate Salchow, or perform a lovely toe loop. The scrunched up pains in my thighs, core, and arms as I finish my program with an intense step sequence.
My sweat, my tears, my soul. I give it all away, just for that feeling of exuberation as I glide across the ice. I can fly far past the sky when I skate, and I know it. I've worked hard and long, given up my diet, my body, and my spirit, given it to the skating.
Funny how everything since I got here in Barcelona flies by so fast, and I felt so numb, yet right here, right now, I feel like I'm moving in slow motion, and the only thing I feel are a big wave -no colossal, tsunami wave of emotions completely inundating me. I approach the center of the ice.
And I skate.
The music wakes me up like a long lost melody, one that I know so well. I don't even think, just feel the notes and dance to it like I was meant to. I've heard stories of freaking out at the Finals, getting crushed by the pressure of the Grand Prix, or being so focused in your routine that you immediately win gold. But I know that I don't feel anything like that now. The only thing I know is that I am free, and beautiful, and that I'm going to do this free skate like it's my last. Skating is my lifeblood, and this is my realm.
Combination Jump. Triple axle, single loop, triple salchow.
Step sequence. The sway of my nimble arms, the lean and twirling of my petite frame. I am a gorgeous figure, my little skirt swishing back and forth. My feet are light and quick, my blades stealthy and sharp at the same time.
And at the last stretch, I spread my arms wide, like a majestic eagle, soaring through the clouds as the music slows a bit. I feel the immense pain kick into my body, and everywhere suddenly hurts like never before. I clench my teeth, and refuse to give in. I will complete this program.
And then I'm back to it. It's nearly done, nearly over as soon as it began. I know that there is one thing that I had been working on, and never made in practice. My coach highly discouraged me against it, and yet, I feel it's the only thing that will bring me closure, make me feel like I've really pushed my potential. I'm desperate to fit it in, to prove to the world that I can make it, even at my senior debut.
I look towards the dark audience, and spin in a twirl. "Mom, Dad, hope you smile upon me in heaven. Uncle Benji, thanks for everything. Watch me now everyone: judges, Coach Jelena, and the world. Don't even think about looking away, as I captivate and allure you."
I sharply turn, push with all my might, and keep my arms high and poised elegantly. I close my eyes as I feel the wind thread through my chocolate locks, kept in a high ponytail, and brush my eyelids tenderly. A resounding clack of my blades on the smooth rink, spraying up a bit of shaved ice. I make the quad Salchow.
And suddenly, my hearing and awareness returns as I complete off the last moments of my song, and I know I have a standing ovation before I even finish. My head is tilted up, violet eyes gazing adoringly at what is the ceiling, but the direction of heaven to me, one arm in front and one in the back. I hold the position, my expression of disbelief and fatigue. I did it!
I turn my head towards the audience, beaming like I was the luckiest person in the world, before doing a dainty bow before skating somewhat sloppily towards the exit. Nearly collapsing into the arms of Coach Jelena, I let her drag me to the kiss and cry, still panting heavily.
"How'd *pant* I do?" I'm still out of breath, and my adrenaline is subsiding, leaving me with a dull soreness everywhere that I know was the result of that insane ending.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! The quad- wha- but- how-?!" she sputtered. "You could have missed it! Over rotated! Out stepped! Tripped and hurt yourself!" Her reprimands wiped the smile off my face, and I felt myself get smaller as I tried to shrink into myself. I wrung my hands, and looked down, my hair covering my face. I felt tears blur my vision. I sniffed, willing them to disappear. I would not cry.
I sat up then, straightening my posture, and looking Coach Jelena in the eyes. Deep hues of violet and blue clashed with milky brown; I took a deep breath.
"I knew that I could make that quad. I just had to. And I did. It was a perfect program." Jelena grips my shoulders tighter and pulls me into an embrace.
"And I'm so proud of you," she whispers in my ear, squeezing me tighter, if that's possible.
"The scores for Natasha Edwards of the United Kingdom are… 152.10 free skate, landing her a combined score of 232.31! Crushing the previous ISU record and placing first!" I jump up and put my hands together in front of my heart, and I can't stop beaming. I think I'm glowing, already as ecstatic as if I were on a sugar rush. The ineffable feeling of winning, after all the hard work and sacrifice, is just marvelous and beautiful and baffling, all at once.
Coach Jelena grinned at me.
"Ready for the after-party?"