Ava
sharp exhale escaping her lips, a wisp of visible breath in the cold air, when she struck her final pose. Her chest ached while her arms extended in a bow, presenting herself to the imaginary audience she envisioned in the stands.
Her chest heaved for breath while she held herself still, enjoying the applause thundering in her ears. She knew it was actually her heartbeat, but she pretended, nonetheless. Every run-through she gave replicated a perfect skate in competition. Ava couldn't train any other way, not since childhood.
“Excellent.” Korin stopped the music from looping to the beginning and held Ava’s water bottle toward her. He reached for his propped-up phone and stopped the recording, intending to catch any discreet errors missed by the human eye. “That looks like the best run-through yet.”
Ava nodded, accepting the water bottle for her dry throat. "I like how the routine is shaping up."
“Me too. I know you weren’t thrilled about your mother vetoing the first three concepts for the free skate, but you’re giving the princess trope a new life.”
In today’s session, she was a princess searching for a home while torn between the dueling affections of two men. Yesterday, she had been a dark deity channeling Black Swan energy as she enticed the audience in a deadly dance. Tomorrow, she didn’t know who she would be.
“It feels more mature than the wide-eyed, innocent princess of the last three seasons. Plus, the love triangle in the song and the different storylines meshing into one song helps the complexity of the routine.”
Korin patted her shoulder and gave Ava a moment to drink. The cold water against her sore throat muted her thoughts with an echoing ripple of bliss. She leaned onto the side of the wall and bent her knees, flexing and stretching. Her legs wobbled a little, promising her she would feel all shades of sore tomorrow.
Ava greedily downed another gulp of water and passed the bottle back to Korin, "Again?"
"Give me a slow lap around the rink, clear your head, and come back. We'll debrief feedback then." Korin lightly pushed Ava forward, and she glided to the edge of the rink, giggling to herself.
Ava kept her pace slow while she skated her mandatory lap, inhaling a gulp of prickly cold air. While looping the rink, she stretched and glided into a twizzle. Even while moving casually, her form stayed pristine.
She finished the second curve of the rink and stopped in front of Korin, who reviewed the skating footage on his phone. Ava overheard the scuffs of her blades against the ice whenever she jumped and the crescendos of the music. She smiled, hands tucked against her back while waiting her turn.
Korin leaned over with the phone, and Ava scrunched into him, noticing he paused around the forty-five-second mark. "Alright, I noticed a slight under-rotation on the flip in the first jump combination, and setting up for the salchow afterward needs a better rotation.”
As her coach said, Ava witnessed the rookie mistake in the first jump combination. But Korin’s voice remained gentle, and he rubbed her shoulder while he forwarded the video to the next moment in the second half.
“Here, the angle of your leg on the arabesque might look better if you hold it a little higher and hold it for a second or two longer. Your long lines are one of the prominent traits of your skating. I don’t want the world to think we’ve gotten sloppy or taken the little things for granted. This season is yours to go above and beyond.”
“You’re right.” Ava took the phone from Korin, watching the full recording of herself gliding across the ice with proper emoting. Entranced, she studied every subtle movement and change in her expression, timed perfectly to the different segments of the song. “Everything else looks good, right?”
"More than good, Ava. None of your past routines will be able to top the execution of this one and the short program. Once you debut this season, people won't be able to get enough."
"As long as it wins me gold, the people can have everything they want from me.”
"Then, let's continue polishing to secure gold."
Ava spun to the center after she handed the phone back to Korin, giving him time to restart the recording. She used the split second to slip back into the right headspace. Figure skating required more than looking pretty while gliding across the ice.
From the moment she stepped onto the ice, Ava became someone else. She stopped being a teenage girl who loved the color purple or traveling. Ava's thoughts ceased to be her own; she lived and breathed for the character's desires. Averie Laurier played whatever role she picked for the season.
Ava detached from reality and fell back into the real world equally hard.
Ava’s body thrummed like a live wire when Korin asked, "Ready for the music?"
"Yes!" Ava scrunched inward, close to the ice, before she blossomed into a modified pirouette. The song set the stage at a prestigious ballet. She listened for her musical cue in the swell of an orchestra and the recorded applause of an imaginary audience, ready to skate.
Ava spun and marked her path in the ice, guided into a serpentine step pattern to dazzle the audience. Her footwork felt light and deliberately delicate, befitting the princess she portrayed. She counted every beat of the music under her breath when she reached the end of her opening, primed to hold an arabesque into a triple lutz. She set the standard high for the beginning of the program, even with the higher point jumps reserved for the second half.
Ava kicked off the backward outside edge and toe-picked as she caught air, rotating a perfect number of times before a stable landing. She fought a smile when she headed into more choreography between elements.
Twizzle, spiral on a curve, and running threes for the next jump.
The music swelled, and her heart followed its lead, skipping beats in the middle while counting herself through. All the while, her mind continued its complicated calculus of scoring points for her chosen moves.
She stepped through her running threes, prepared to fly again when her music stopped. Ava’s body jerked to a stop immediately, wobbling but righting her posture. She turned to Korin, whose brows were furrowed, and watched him grab his phone.
The ringing of an incoming call replaced the music, causing Ava’s stomach to twist into a million tiny knots when he answered. When he turned his face, she couldn’t read his lips. A light tremor jumped across her skin and left her face buzzing.
Anxiously, her hands straightened her clothes and smoothed down any flyaway hairs. She almost wondered if her nerves got the best of her until Korin’s eyes found her. He sighed, "Yes, ma'am, she's right here."
Ava skated to her coach and accepted the phone from his hand, tucking it between her ear and shoulder, “Ma’am.”
“Averie,” her mother’s one-word answer cut her deep with its clipped tone. A “cold shoulder” described her mother’s demeanor on a good day. She wasn’t the warm or affectionate type, but Ava accepted it regardless. “Are you still at practice?”
“Yes, I was in the middle of another run-through of my free skate.”
“Good. Then, you’ll be able to implement my feedback.”
Ava cringed. As a skater, her mother used to seek perfection. Yet, “perfection” barely scratched the surface of her expectations for Ava. As a backseat coach, Katrina Laurier hated when anyone interfered with her vision. She never hesitated to tell Ava when she “overstepped.”
To her, Ava should follow instructions from the people who knew better.
“Is there something wrong with the routine? I thought we already secured your and father's approval." Ava mumbled, staring at the sparkly silver laces of her skates.
“I watched the video your coach sent,” Katrina scoffed. “It was terrible. I couldn’t bring myself to watch thirty seconds of it. Your technique has gotten sloppy. I can’t connect with your concept. It's bland.”
Ava couldn't even pretend to be surprised at her mother's resistance. They fought tooth and nail about the concept of the free skate until her mother shoved her back into the princess box, and Ava conceded.
She scuffed her blade against the ice, “You’re the one who wanted me to be a princess again. People will begin to whisper that I’m predictable and not progressing beyond my box. The tweaks to the routine aren’t major.”
“So, you’re questioning my judgment now? I’m sorry, which of us has been skating longer than you’ve been alive?”
“That's not what I meant," Ava couldn't find the words to sum up the frothing riptide of emotions in the pit of her chest. Frustration came out on top, but she tiptoed around its exaggerated presence. She’d find herself in deep trouble for speaking out of turn. "All I'm saying is we're too close to the season to scrap the routine and start over."
“I would’ve bent over backwards if my mother told me to change my routine. But respect is a lost art these days.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now, I will attempt to watch the rest of the video and compile an itemized list of my critiques and complaints. Korin should receive it by the end of the day. Tomorrow will be a five-hour practice day, no exceptions." Katrina clicked her tongue, exuding disapproval through the other side of the phone call.
Ava’s body tensed up. Flares of pain cried out from several joints locking up and muscles cramped from being pulled too tight. She muffled the strained hitch of breath with a hand over the phone’s speaker, “As you wish. Tomorrow will be five hours.”
"I expect video progress to show that my changes are followed, no exceptions. Unlike what your slacking technique demonstrates, my way will win you gold. You need to keep that first-place streak going if you want to continue our little deal."
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’ll be all. Get back to work.”
Ava held onto the phone long after her mother ended the call. By the end, she had sounded disinterested, like she needed to handle more important matters than scolding her daughter over a skating routine. She lowered it from her ear, still gripping it tightly.
Her mother cut her to the core. All she ever wanted was to make her parents proud of her. She used to think she would become the ideal daughter if she skated a perfect routine, amassed all the gold, and earned her face splashed over magazines or television screens.
"Sparkles." Korin's voice pierced through a haze of self-doubt. Ava felt his hands grab her shoulders, pulling her close. Although, he sounded distant when he whispered, "You're shaking, sweetness."
“I am?”
"You are. What did your mother say?"
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
"That's okay. We don't have to talk about it. Do you want to try the routine again so we can implement feedback?"
Ava mulled over her option, stuck on her mother's promise of itemized feedback compared to Korin's keen catches from the recording. Tears welled along her lower lashes, and the hot burn around her eyes clashed with the cold around them.
She rubbed her eyes with gloved hands, soothed by the brush of the knitted fabric, and blinked away the rest. She didn’t have time to cry. Winners didn’t cry.
“I don’t know,” Three little words weaponized the capability to leave her nauseous and afraid. “The season is so close. There’s no room for error, more than any season in the past. I've seen the pressure break other girls but never imagined it would be me."
“Has the pressure broken you? Or are you still fighting for that gold, Ava? From where I stand, the pressure hasn’t bested you and never will. You are Ava Laurier, the darling of the skating world. In my years of coaching, I’ve never had a skater better than you.” Korin cupped her face with his gloved hands, forcing her to look him in the eyes.
Ava blinked through the tears, lashes growing heavy, “I’m scared. We haven’t even stepped foot into a competition . . . yet, I worry so hard about winning gold that I’ve started dreaming about it. It consumes me.”
“It’s okay to be scared sometimes,” Korin promised. “But Ava . . . you have nothing to be worried about. This routine will carry you to the podium if you don't let anyone get in your head."
“You’re right.”
“Now, I want you to say this: I am Ava Laurier, and no one can stop my victory.”
“I am Ava Laurier . . . and no one can stop my victory.”
"Atta girl!" Korin squeezed her into a warm hug and Ava hugged him back. All the buzzing thoughts ceased briefly, and she tried to cling to the peace. She savored what she could when the echo of approaching footsteps caught her attention.
Ava let go of Korin and glanced toward the ramp from the upper level, seeing June wander into the rink. She blinked hard to clear any leftover tears and waved, “June! What are you doing here?”
June pulled off her headphones, revealing the cute strawberry-themed hair clips she wore, and waved, “Are you busy?”
“Not at the moment. Why?”
“Well, I finished my shift at the diner, but my sister isn’t done with work for the day. So, I wondered if you wanted to hang out.”
Ava hesitantly turned to Korin, who grabbed her skate guards from the outside of the rink. He nodded. “Yes, you’re dismissed from practice today. Come back before supper.”
“You are the best. Is Chase cooking pot roast tonight?”
“Pot roast with mashed potatoes and baked veggies. He grabbed some zucchini, especially for you."
"I'll be back before the plates are on the table." Ava accepted the skate guards from Korin. She clicked them into place and waddled onto the firm ground, content to hang out with June.
She waved June over and took her duffle from the side of the rink. Parting ways with Korin, Ava headed for the locker room with a quiet June in tow, who admired the rink with soft “wows” whispered where she thought Ava couldn’t overhear.
She and June rounded the curve of the rink when she caught a glimpse into the second level above the ice. She quickly noticed the familiar faces of the Winter Wolves hockey team, including team captain and royal ass Logan Beckett.
She wasn’t the only one. Almost like he knew she saw him, Logan’s eyes soon found hers through the thick glass shield. His gaze narrowed, visible from a distance, but Ava didn’t have time to let Logan’s mean attitude get under her skin. She turned her nose up and pretended to ignore him as she and June crossed into the locker room, blocked from the view of Mr. Hater.
He didn’t deserve her time of day, even with all those muscles and jawline that could cut the ice.
***In a pair of denim cutoffs and a ribbed tank top, Ava felt strangely naked. But in the heat of the July afternoon, she appreciated freedom from her insulated layers of skating gear.
June led the way through town since Ava hadn’t mastered her surroundings after a few well-meaning but ultimately pointless walks through Waybrook. For a skater, she had a terrible sense of direction.
“Our destination is up ahead!” June exclaimed, cheerfully pink in the cheeks and almost skipping down the street in one of her handmade dresses. Ava forced herself to speed up to stay on pace with June, less energetic. After hours of practice, Ava’s body deserved a hot shower and stretches with the foam roller.
“Do I get to find out where we’re going?” asked Ava.
“Nope! Unless you want to guess without a hint.”
“I don’t know where we are, much less how I’m supposed to guess without a hint. That’s not fair.”
June giggled at her protests, refusing to share more. The two continued their trek through the quiet town and its surprisingly quiet atmosphere in the summertime. Ava traveled around the world and experienced the bustling city environment full of people constantly on the move, but she liked the small-town vibes better.
They rounded a corner, and June squealed, "We're here!"
She gestured to an iron fence enclosing a playground and a giant set of buildings behind it. Ava guessed that the buildings belonged to the local public school, identical to the versions of school she remembered in television shows.
June grabbed her hand and dragged Ava through the open playground gate. Her sneakers went from stepping on asphalt and uneven concrete streets to crunching on the somewhat squishy turf in multicolor flecks. They chose the abandoned swings, and June plopped down in one of them, patting the seat of the other. "Sit!"
“Okay,” Ava accepted the seat and grabbed the chains. She stared out at the unruly grass and the rest of the playground, untouched since the end of school. “This place is nice.”
"It is! The school lets people visit the playground during the summer. I know some older kids come during certain hours of the day. But I like the swings. They were always my favorite thing to do at the park . . . what about you?"
“I didn’t go to the park much as a kid. More often than not, I was indoors with ballet classes and skating.”
“You didn’t go to school?”
"Public school? No. I would've had too many absences, so enrolling wasn't possible. My parents paid for online school and private tutors to ensure I passed requisite tests and earned my GED." Ava shrugged.
June rocked on the swing next to her, "Lucky. I wish my foster parents could've afforded online school. I went to public school, and the kids bullied me."
“Why? You’re a nice person and so sweet and pretty.”
“You think I’m pretty?”
“Of course, I think you’re very pretty.”
“Kids at school didn’t think so. People picked on me because I’m autistic . . . I wanted to be friends with them, but then I discovered that the people I thought were nice would make fun of me behind my back."
Ava frowned, “I’m sorry.”
June cocked her head, “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Maybe not,” Ava watched June swing in her peripheral vision, but she dug her heels into the turf. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t dislike how those kids treated you. People can be cruel.”
June leaned over, slowing down. The shaggy bangs of her wolf cut fell into her eyes, and she grinned, "Thank you. I don't think about those kids anymore because, one day, I'll have enough money to go to fashion school and train to become a world-famous fashion designer. It won’t matter what they think of me then.”
“It won’t.”
"You know, I'm good at sewing. I can make one of your skating costumes in the future. You probably already have something for this season, but the Olympics are coming in a few years… wait, you want to go to the Olympics, right?"
"Of course. Every athlete dreams about the Olympics at some point, and I have a chance to get on the team like anyone else."
"Besides that, what else do you look forward to? You've won so many medals . . . or so I heard from one of the gossipy old ladies that come in on Thursdays."
Ava laughed, and the lightness tickled her chest. She needed a laugh after the strain practice left on her. “Honestly, skating itself is often a reward for me. I love to skate; I feel perfectly at home on the ice.”
“You love being a skater," June whispered. In the apex of the afternoon, Ava swore she overheard a bird's sweet call in the nearby trees and the rustle of the breeze through the canopy of leaves. Love alone hardly seemed appropriate to encompass the vast space skating held inside her head.
“It’s the thing I love most in this world . . . so much so that I don’t know what I’ll do once I retire from the sport many years from now," said Ava, rooted to her seat on the swing while basking in the day’s sweltering heat.
Truthfully, she never wanted that day to come . . . because she would have nothing without skating.