6.
To someone not familiar with the world of competitive figure skating, the name Tiffany Wilson would not have sounded like a very intimidating name. But with two world championship titles and four US Nationals titles, she was the most intimidating person that I knew. I was incredibly fortunate to be able to call her my coach.
"Let's start with some basic exercises this evening," Tiffany called after I had finished my warmup laps. "Start with forward crossovers. Both directions."
For the half of practice, everything had gone smoothly. All of my fundamentals were mastered, but Tiffany knew that. She also knew that I had grown frustrated with working on my triple axel. I think she was hoping she could gradually build me up from the basics to the single jumps, the doubles, the triples, and then the triple Lutz.
"Double salchow!"
I nodded and pushed myself into a consistent speed. From the front crossovers to the back crossovers, and working on edges and turns, I was admittedly in a much better mindset. My mind was clear from the negative thoughts. I was feeling much more optimistic.
My first attempt at the double salchow went smoothly as I pushed off the ice with my left foot, spun twice in the air, and landed on the outside edge of my right skate. Tiffany didn't offer any feedback as she called for me to do it again.
The same pattern followed for the rest of practice as she called out different doubles and triples for me to do. Only offering feedback on the jumps I landed off on.
"Okay," she called. Her voice was tight. "Let's see your triple axel progress."
Or lack thereof, I thought.
I wanted to protest but I knew that it was a moot point against Tiffany. She was the coach. Either I listened or I got off the ice and quit.
"Start with your double axel."
I nodded. A double axel I could do. I pushed myself into a fast-paced skate before I pushed off the ice. Spun two and a half rotations in the air and then landed back on the ice.
"Good," Tiffany praised. "Now try your triple."
I chewed the inside of my cheeks. Here we go.
Taking in a deep, calming breath of cool air I mentally prepared myself as I took off into a good skate. I swung my leg back and pushed off the ice. One, two. I could feel my positioning was off and I cursed. There was no way that I wasn't about to crash and burn.
"Again!" Tiffany called just as my right side collided with the ice.
I winced through the pain surging in my side as I pulled myself up and took off again. Falling was a part of the sport. It was a part of learning a new jump.
You can do this Zoe.
Just as I swung my leg back to push off the ice, my concentration was pulled to the bleachers. From the corner of my I could see several hockey heads making through way down the stairs.
Crap, you never let yourself get distracted.
My right skate hit the ice at the wrong angle as I came down from the jump and I was sent in a full spiral across the ice. A collective "ohhhs" came from the direction of the bleachers. I scrunched my face from the pain that shot through my ankle and hip as my motionless body slip across the ice in what felt like slow motion.
In all the times I had ever fallen from a jump, none of them had hurt like this. Not only was my body in pain but so was my pride.
This time I was slow to get up. It didn't matter that I could hear Tiffany blatantly calling for me to get up and do it again. Physically, mentally - I couldn't do it. I couldn't make myself get up off the ice to just come crashing right back down to it. Not when I'd let myself get distracted. I needed to clear my head.
"Zoe." Tiffany was over at my side now, knelt down to my lifeless body still flat on the ice. "Are you okay?"
I nodded. "I'm fine." Another minute passed before I forced myself to slowly sit up. My eyes met a very concerned pair of green. "I'm fine," I said again. "Just sore."
A smile pulled Tiffany's lips up and she stood. "Good." She offered me her hand up, to which I accepted.
I never had needed someone's help up after a fall. But at that moment. I was both mentally and physically defeated.
"Practice is over." Tiffany pulled her hand away when I was on my feet. She sighed. "Mentally you are just not with me today. We'll try again tomorrow. I can't afford to have you wipe out like this again and get a serious injury."
I felt a sting in my heart. I'd let Tiffany down. And that was the worst feeling in the world. She wasn't mad. She was disappointed. That was worse.
To my dismay, a smirking Aiden stood at the entrance to the ice. His arms crossed over his chest in his usual arrogant manner. "I know I'm no expert in this sport of yours, but I am pretty sure that you are supposed to land on your feet. Not your face."
I pushed passed him. In no way was I in the mood to put with him and his unwanted disrespect for figure skating. He'd happen to have witnessed one of the worst falls of my career. I was a bad mix of frustration and exhaustion. It should not have come as a surprise that I snapped back.
"And I'm no expert in men, but I know that acting like a dick won't make yours any bigger."
My comeback only seemed to grow the amusement on his face. He found me humorous rather than the offensive I was going for. Of course.
"No need to be bitter Lodge. You know that it's only a matter of time before us hockey heads take the top spot at the rink."
"As if," I scoffed. I took next to my duffel bag on the bench and glared up at him. "My skate club has and always will be better."
Aiden's eyes flickered with mirth. "That practice of yours sure seems to tell a different story." He paused, leaned towards me. "And your supposed to be the top figure skater here?"
"Let's get something straight," I hissed and jumped back to my feet. My hand placed on his chest, I pushed him back out of my space. He may have been a full foot taller than me with a lot more muscle, but he was not going to belittle me. "My practice was going just fine until the last jump. Which, for your information, is one of the hardest, if not they hardest, jump to learn. It's not easy."
Aiden chuckled, took a step back and held his hands up in mock defeat. "My bad."
I wanted to pounce on him and attack like some kind of rabid animal (as if that would do any good). Mark had just yelled at us for fighting, so I knew better than to pick a fight now. As it was, if he saw this interaction now I was certain he would kick us out before we could blink.
"Do you ever get tired of being so irritating?" I grumbled.
He smirked. "Nope," he replied, popping the 'p'. "I can do this all day."
I fell back down to the bench. "I'm sure you can."
The majority of the hockey team had piled onto the ice, Aiden included. I couldn't help the scowl that occupied my face as I unlaced my skates and switched to sneakers. It wasn't enough for the hockey team to take my morning practice slot, they had to take the slot directly following my new afternoon slot as well. How lucky of me.
One week with the new sponsors and everything had changed. Instead of easily avoiding the hockey team and never having to talk to them I would have to see them every day. Right after my practice. It put a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"Are you okay?"
I jumped, turned to see it was Chris Dayton who was talking to me. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. Why was he talking to me? Or, better question. Why was he asking me if I was okay?
"Yeah, fine." Liar. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Chris offered a sly smile, a pair of perfectly white teeth showcased. For a moment his deep blue eyes focused on mine. I couldn't help but feel like his question had actually been genuine. He was different from Aiden. His face lacked the smug 'look how great I am' persona.
I shifted in my seat. It was almost unnerving that a hockey head appeared to be being nice to me. And not just any hockey head. If I remembered correctly, Chris was actually the captain of them.
"You look like you want to puke," he chuckled. A strong hint of teasing laced his words, though there was a lot of truth to them. He gestured to towards the ice. "It doesn't have to do with him, does it?"
My gaze followed to where he was gesturing. Or should I say who. It had everything to do with him. Him and the rest of the hockey heads.
"No, just a long practice," I lied. It was a long practice, but mood had so much more to do with my hatred of the hockey team. I knew I couldn't say that to him. Not when he had made an effort to be nice.
Chris stayed silent for several seconds. His eyes trained on his teammates out on the ice. "Yeah," he finally spoke, ran his hand through his dark hair. "I saw. Everyone has their off days."
My lips twitched as I tried to prevent myself from smiling. I titled my head toward him, making direct eye contact. Chris was being surprisingly sweet. Had he always been this nice and I just had never noticed?
He dropped his hand back down to his hockey stick. "I'm sure your next practice will be better."
The smile I was trying to hide broke through. "Aren't you supposed to be having a practice right now?" I pointed to his teammates on the ice.
Chris looked out at the ice and nodded. "Yeah, I should probably get out there."
"Your coach might like that."
He grinned in response and made his way to the ice.
I reached down to my duffel bag on the floor. My brain swirled and I tried my best to figure out what had just happened. I'd never had a positive conversation with a hockey player before. It put a weird, unexplainable feeling in my stomach.
Chris and I had been training at the same rink and gone to the same high together for years. I had barely spoken ten words to him over the years. I only knew his name and that he was the captain of the hockey team. I'd just assumed that he was a dick like all the other hockey players I'd met prior.
He didn't seem so bad after that conversation. It left me wondering if I had misjudged Chris... had I also misjudged the others too? Chris didn't seem so bad. Maybe the others weren't so bad either. I maybe I could have learned to get along with the hockey team after all.
I slumped further down in my seat. A glare fixated onto a certain someone.
Or maybe I was right, and the majority of hockey players were all as arrogant as Aiden.