Can you say "Vuncan"?
Note: this is unedited. I will fix it when I go back and revise the whole story.
*
As I fold my arms and settle into my starting position, several emotions quickly flood through me. First comes fear, the ever present feeling that something is going to go wrong throughout our performance. Then, dread - the sinking feeling that when something does go wrong, it will be terribly wrong. Excitement of what lies ahead, happiness of doing something that I love again, and that blissfully unpleasant bundle of nerves course through me, energizing me to the point where I'm itching for the music to start.
I glance over at Duncan to find that he is mimicking my pose, breaking the stony demeanor that the beginning of this performance requires for only a split second to shoot me a quick smile. I return it, then we both arrange our faces back into intense, distraught expressions as the opening notes of Demi Lovato's "Warrior" start pulsing through the speakers. The soft piano notes indicate my start, and I skate backwards slowly, bringing my arms above my head and looking off to the side. As the cello in the background rises, Duncan begins moving as well, coming towards me with a tender look on his face. Since we've never practiced this, I'm not exactly sure what to expect of him. Missy seems to think it will come naturally, though, so I go forward.
As Demi's strong voice swells above the instruments, I take Duncan's hands in mine, allowing him to spin me out, then back towards him. We sway for a few beats, then I break away, gesturing wildly but gracefully with my arms to bring the song to life in the performance. As we skate around each other, throwing in whatever facials and movements necessary, I begin to lose myself in the song, no longer paying attention to the hundreds - probably thousands of people around us. The judges don't matter, the reporters don't matter - it's just Duncan and I on this ice, skating our hearts out.
The song picks up and I push off the ice with my skates, leaping into the air and I know that Duncan does the same. At this point in the routine, we shift from trying to play off of each other to doing every move in synchronization, from a camel spin to a handful of side-by-side jumps. Duncan places his hands at my waist and does an easy lift, holding me with gentle but firm hands as he spins beneath me and puts me back on the ground. I can faintly hear applause, but I push past it and continue.
We make it through a few more moves, the most complicated of them being a death spiral. I almost lose my grip on Duncan during this, but we come back together, albeit a bit sloppily. "Okay, big finish," Duncan whispers as the music begins to swell one last time. He places his hands at my waist and skates very close to me while explaining that this is going to be a twist lift, and that all I have to do is spin and wait for him to catch me. With a large thrust, I'm suddenly up in the air, twisting and waiting for Duncan's hands to find my body again.
It doesn't happen.
Instead of his warm hands, I feel the cold ice as I fall onto the ground, curling into myself. Duncan's wide eyes meet mine and I know he's about to apologize one thousand times over, but I give him a curt head shake, warning him not to speak. I barely lift my head up as the final lyric, "You can never hurt me again," spills out of the speakers, before dramatically collapsing back onto the ice. Duncan falls to his knees beside me, catching on as the song ends, and draping his body over mine.
I zone back in and hear the thundering applause around us. Duncan lifts me up and carries me off the ice. To some people, all of that probably looked intentional, and as far as the song and the story it tells goes, it could have been. But anybody with skating experience - and the judges - know that it was a drop, and several points will be deducted for it.
"Violet, I am so sorry," Duncan tells me as he sets me down in a chair backstage. He starts fawning over me worriedly, but I slap his hands away. "Vi, seriously, I'm sorry. I stumbled a little, and before I could reposition, I saw you hitting the ice."
"Duncan, it's okay," I tell him as the medical staff inspects me for his cuts or bruises. The last time this happened to me, I was facing the wrenching pain of a broken ankle. This is nothing in comparison to that. "I'm fine, trust me." He looks like he wants to say something, but suddenly I'm surrounded by people - Missy, Ally, my mother, reporters, and other medical personnel are bombarding me with questions.
Missy takes charge immediately and demands that anyone who isn't family or friend leave. "There are still people skating out there, go write a story on them," she snaps at the reporters, herding them out the door. She thanks the medical staff for their quick and thorough observations after determining that nothing is wrong with me except for a solid bruise forming on my left hip. After that, it's just the five of us.
We sit there quietly, each of us looking from one person to the next, trying to figure out who is going to say what. "Well, if nobody else wants to speak up," Ally announces, clapping her hands together and grinning at me. "You still kick ass. You guys did so well together."
"But I dropped her," Duncan interjects, rubbing a hand over his face. My lips quirk up a bit at his smudged eyeliner, but I try to play it off since I can see how truly upset about this he is.
My mother places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Duncan, you heard the paramedics," she tells him, giving his arm a squeeze. "She's going to be okay. Trust me, she's taking way worse injuries than this from skating."
"That's not the point," he grumbles, standing up abruptly and stalking towards the door. He shoots me one last apologetic look before heading back into the complex, quickly disappearing into a sea of people.
Ally sighs and gets on her feet too. "I should probably go after him," she tells us.
Missy looks between my mother and I and smiles. "I think I'll let the two of you catch up, then," she tells us. "But first, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you, Violet. Not only did you make the comeback of a lifetime, but you were flexible enough to transform your routine into something suitable for pairs, without being given any notice or practice. Sure, it was a little rough, but you did it. And no matter what the results are, I think that makes you a champion."
She exits and I turn back towards my mother, who is standing across the room from me. I rise to my feet, ready to do some major explaining about how I've kept such a large part of my life a secret for the past few months, but she quickly crosses the room and wraps her arms around me.
"I'm so proud of you," she whispers, standing back to hold me at arm's length. "I've always been proud of you."
I don't realize that I'm crying until she wipes a finger beneath my eye, removing the stray tears. "You're not upset with me for lying to you?" I ask her, not believing it. I don't understand how she could possibly be upset with me after some of the things that I've pulled over the past few years. The tattoo, the piercings, the bad attitude. I crashed her car, I've pretty much completely shut her out, and the only truth that she's known about my life recently is that I was working at the ice rink. I lied about Duncan, I lied about skating, I lied about hockey.
That's not exactly a daughter to be proud of.
"I'm proud of you because you're being you," she tells me, chuckling. "Violet, you're stubborn and hard-headed, and very difficult to get along with."
I snort, hoping that there's a point to this. "Gee, thanks."
"But," she continues, smiling. "You're also determined, driven, and very hard-working. You put your mind to something, and you get it done. You've been living two completely different lives, and somehow you handled them, even though you pushed yourself to the brink several times and had to push away some people that you love. But you know something about love?"
I shake my head, prompting her to continue. "No, what?"
"When you love someone," she tells me, gripping my shoulders firmly. "No matter how hard you try to push them away, they'll always be close by. They'll give you your time and space, because they love you and want to do what is best for you. But they'll also be waiting right there when you need them again."
I think about it, and I know it's true. I love my mom, and even though I've been horrible to her since I quit skating, she always comes right back. Missy and Ally did the same thing. Despite the fact that I pushed them to the side, they came right back.
"I think," I tell her slowly, squeezing her hands. "That I need to learn to stop pushing people away when I get upset. It's not fair to them, and doesn't show how much I really love them."
"You know something about moms?" she asks, this question almost identical to her previous one. "We already know that - and we know that you'll always love us. But you know who might need some reminding?" I shake my head and she rolls her eyes in good nature. "Duncan. Please go tell that boy how you feel."
I don't know how she can be so sure of herself, but I nod and rush out of the room anyway, searching for a certain dark-haired guy. I don't even bother to look through the crowds of people who are waiting on results of the competition, or celebrating results that have already been announced. I know he's not there. I sprint across the complex, ignoring the fact that my leotard has undoubtedly ridden up, and rush past all of the empty rinks. Even the ice that held the hockey championship only an hour before has already been cleared out and zambonied.
I make my way towards the concession stands, which has the metal divider pulled down, signaling that it's closed for the rest of the day. That doesn't mean that nobody's in there, though. I dip through the door and find Duncan sitting on the inside counter, playing with his thumbs and looking lost in thought. His gaze snaps up and immediately he's on his feet, rushing over to apologize for the umpteenth time. "Violet, I'm sorry," he says. "I know you're not hurt, but you trusted me, and I let you down-"
"Shut up," I tell him firmly, grabbing him by the shoulders and standing on my tip-toes. He freezes and I can hear him swallow as I lean closer and brush my lips against his. "And kiss me." He doesn't hesitate to press his lips firmly against mine and bring us even closer together. His hands make their way to my hair, and I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to eradicate any space that is left between us.
Our lips are moving hungrily, passionately, and wildly, not at all in sync, as though we're both trying to hold onto each other like we were holding onto our last breath. Duncan's hands move down to my thighs, and the feeling of his warm palms against my uncovered legs causes me to shiver. He grins against my lips, hoists me up and spins us around, so that I'm now sitting on the counter and not having to reach as much to kiss him. His hands trace every inch of my body, running from my shoulders down the velvety material of my leotard and eventually resting on my hips. I wince as he brushes against my new bruise and he pulls away, worried.
"Oh man, I'm sorry," he exclaims, inspecting the spot, but I just laugh and pull his head back towards mine, connecting our lips once again. Eventually, it slows down into something a bit more gentle, and our light kisses eventually turn into his lips tracing my neck and collarbone.
"Duncan," I sigh happily as he continues placing kisses on my skin.
"Mommy, I thought you said nobody was back there," a small voice shouts, causing us both to freeze. There's several knocks on the metal divider. "I hear someone. I want cotton candy."
We both hold our breath until we hear the sound of retreating footsteps. I bite my lip and glance at Duncan, before we both dissolve into laughter. "So," Duncan says after sobering up, placing a hand on either side of me and leaning into the counter. "Where does this leave us?"
"Wherever you want," I shrug. "I'm not really one to care about labels - but, I do know that I really like you."
"That's good, because I really like you too," he grins, giving my hand a squeeze. We eventually make our way back out into the complex, and see the crowds coming our way. Duncan laces his fingers with mine and shoots me a dorky smile. A few people stop and tell us that our routine was good, and I let a few reporters take pictures and ask questions for their interview.
"Why are you interviewing them?" a shrill voice asks, and we glance over at Diamond Patriarch, who has a large medal around her neck, and an even bigger trophy in her hands. Noticing that she has our attention, she saunters over towards us, smirking. "I won. You should be interviewing me."
I raise our clasped hands and wave them at her. Duncan leans down and places a sweet kiss on my lip before grinning at Diamond. "Actually, I think we won," he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. "Enjoy cuddling your trophy, Diamond." I nod my approval and we walk off, leaving her frowning and demanding attention from more reporters. "That was almost a Violet-level comeback, don't you think?"
I look over at Duncan and smile. "Eh," I tease, patting him on the cheek. "We'll work on it."
*
I AM SO sorry THIS TOOK SO LONG, I had to finish finals (I aced them all, by the way), then I had to pack all of my stuff up and move back home for the summer, then I got a job and it's just all been kind of hectic, but HERE. PLEASE ENJOY.
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PLEASE go check out my other story, "What Happens in Europe"! I'm kind of dejected by the lack of feedback so far, and I would really love to hear what you think!
Also, I hate to say this, but the next chapter is the last chapter. :( That's insane, but don't worry, there will be a bonus chapter written from Duncan's point of view: (READ THIS: Please leave a comment saying what chapter you would like to see in his point of view. The one with the most votes will be written!)
ALSO, we passed 50,000 reads and that's kind of insane, so thank you guys so, so much! <3
Dedicated to @floats because she was the first person I followed on Wattpad and I'm still obsessed with her stories