Ink and Ice

by Erin McRae

  Zack hung up the phone and looked at Matt. “So, er, you wanna go watch some figure skating?”

  “Does that come with you getting your ass handed to you?”

  “I think so.”

  Matt was definitely enjoying this way too much. Zack tried to focus on being annoyed at him for that, instead of wildly apprehensive about what he was about to do.

  “Cool. Sounds great,” Matt said and held up his phone to snap a picture of Zack for his latest social media update.

  “SO HERE WE GO,” MATT said, as they stood on the sidewalk looking up at the concrete and glass structure that was the Salt Lake City Ice Center. It was growing dark outside, and bright lights gleamed from inside the building, illuminating the staircases that zig-zagged between floors.

  “Yeah.” Zack took a deep breath. Here we go. “You ready?”

  “More than you.”

  The venue was packed. Zack thought he had seen the peak of competitive figure skating crowds—the Olympics, at least—at Nationals, but that paled in comparison to this. There were throngs of people, speaking multiple languages, all jostled together and buzzing with excitement. A lot of them were holding stuffed animals, flowers, or both. Zack narrowed his eyes at someone—was that a seal plushie under their arm?

  He was just wondering how Katie thought he’d be able to meet up with her when there was a sharp whistle from above; looking up, he saw Brendan on the steps leading to an upper level, waving at him.

  Zack weaved his way through the crowd toward him, Matt following behind. When they reached Brendan’s step, he pulled Zack into a hug. “Glad you made it.”

  “Uh. Yeah.” Zack hugged him back.

  “Come on, he’s this way.”

  Brendan led them through a dizzying route of hallways, up and down flights of stairs and through hallways that didn’t get less crowded, but were definitely filled with skaters and team staff instead of spectators. The further they went, the more worried Zack got.

  This was a terrible idea. He’s going to hate me forever. And I’m going to ruin his career—

  “Holy shit,” Matt breathed, interrupting the churn of Zack’s brain. “Is that—Isao Chiba?”

  “Yeah,” Brendan said, though, looking at the man walking down the hall in sequined trousers, a Team Japan jacket zipped up over his shirt.

  “He’s set so many world records. He got gold at the last Olympics, in Harbin,” Matt breathed. His eyes were actually starry. “His free skate to Carmen is legendary.”

  “Yeah,” Brendan said. “He’s a nice kid too. He tries to bake for everybody.”

  “How do you know that?” Zack demanded of Matt.

  “I follow him on Instagram. How do you not know that? You’re the one who wrote an article on figure skating for the country’s biggest sports publication!”

  Zack, however, had stopped listening. They’d reached a room at the end of a hallway and in the doorway stood Aaron. His hand was on the doorframe, and Zack didn’t think he was imagining how white his knuckles were from gripping it too hard. He was dressed in his free skate costume, and staring at Zack like he’d seen a ghost.

  “Uh, hi,” Zack stammered.

  “Here for the final chapter?” Aaron asked, sharp and sullen. But it was all defensive bluster, Zack could tell. His heart wasn’t in it.

  “Here because Katie ordered me to be here,” he said. “And while I could say no to her, I wanted to give you the chance to say no to me yourself.” Zack was distantly aware of Brendan and Matt in the hallway behind him, along with the other staff and skaters moving past. “Can I come in? We probably shouldn’t be doing this out in front of people.”

  Aaron looked about to make a cutting remark, but then he stepped back to let Zack in.

  The room was small, concrete walls painted white and blue under a glaring fluorescent light. There was a folding table and a few chairs, all looking somewhat the worse for wear. Aaron’s skate bag was in one corner, the contents spread out on the floor. What must have been Katie and Brendan’s things were piled together against another wall. A garment bag hung from a hook, and Aaron’s street clothes were draped over the back of a chair.

  Behind them, Brendan cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go,” he said awkwardly. “But there’s about fifteen minutes before we have to get on to actually doing this thing. So if you’re going to sort yourselves out, I’d do it quickly.”

  Zack almost laughed as he and Aaron nodded in unison.

  “Katie’s got your tickets, let’s get you settled,” Brendan said to Matt, leading off in the direction of, Zack could only assume, the arena itself.

  Aaron pushed the door shut, the sounds of the hallway outside instantly falling away.

  “I didn’t ask for this,” he said, his shoulders slumping. More than angry, he looked exhausted.

  “Yeah, well, neither did I,” Zack said. “But here I am.”

  “I’m still mad at you.”

  “If yelling at me is what helps right now, I’m fine with that. I know this is a lot.”

  “You’re damn right it’s a lot!” Aaron snapped, jerking his head up to glare at Zack, and there, there was the fire Zack had seen so often on the ice.

  That was one way to help, Zack supposed.

  “I said yes to Katie because she asked me to come and because I trust her. I know this is way beyond weird skater boundaries and into just bad boundaries, but if there was even a chance I could help, I wanted to offer it.”

  Zack hesitated, waiting for Aaron to say something, but Aaron just stood there glowering at him. But maybe—just maybe—that fire was starting to melt something in his gaze.

  “When this is over I am going to apologize again for everything and then we can do the work or not do the work or whatever you want. And if you want I will walk right out of this room and you’ll never have to see me again. But all I am here for, right now, is to do whatever I can so you can go have the skate of your life,” Zack said.

  “What if I don’t want that to be the only reason you’re here?” Aaron’s words were hesitant, more than they ever had been with Zack before. But his eyes caught Zack’s and held them.

  Zack decided that was enough of a cue that it was worth reaching out to touch Aaron’s hand. Touch was, he was fairly sure, the only thing that was going to settle him anyway.

  Sure enough, Aaron didn’t pull away. As their hands slid together, Zack expected that they would simply interweave their fingers—a bit of quiet, of reassurance, maybe even a promise for a future with or without the Olympics. But Aaron was always full of surprises and didn’t stop moving until his wrist rested in Zack’s palm.

  Slowly, carefully, Zack closed his fingers around the delicate bones.

  “Give me the other one,” he said softly. It wasn’t any sort of question, and Aaron did as he was told, with an exhale that sounded to Zack like gratitude.

  “Better?” he asked, when Aaron had closed his eyes.

  Aaron nodded, but said nothing. Under any other circumstances, Zack would have prodded for more. But this was not that.

  “Okay. Then I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?” he asked.

  Aaron, eyes still closed nodded. Then, as an afterthought, actually answered him with words. “Yeah. I can.”

  “Good. So the other thing I need you to do is stop skating like you’re scared. I know you are, and I know there’s nothing you can do about it. But I need you to go out there and frighten the judges and your coaches and me, whether that’s because your jumps are better with your eyes closed or because you’re not even really human—I don’t know, and I don’t care. But I need you to be who you really are out there. Everyone else be damned. Very much including me. Okay?”

  Aaron bit his lip and nodded fiercely. “Okay,” he said.

  “Good. Now is there anything else I can do?”

  Aaron opened his eyes. “You can kiss me.”

  “Right now?” Zack asked. He adored Aaron, but the boundaries of this situation were alre
ady so bizarre, he simply had to double check.

  “I don’t mean on the ice,” Aaron said.

  Zack knew he meant the arena, but he couldn’t help but think of the island.

  He took Aaron’s face in his hands. “Can I kiss you, like I did at your home, next to the cold of your lake?” he asked.

  Wide-eyed, Aaron nodded.

  So Zack did.

  Chapter 31

  FOUR CONTINENTS - MEN’S Free Skate

  Salt Lake City, UT

  AARON MOVED THROUGH the crowded backstage area toward the ice. His motions were slow but his limbs felt weightless, and all sounds seemed very far away. Even his emotions felt distant, like he was looking at them through deep water.

  Zack was here. Zack had come to—to what, Aaron still wasn’t sure. He also didn’t care. Zack had driven nineteen hours just to give him one directive. And maybe that was messed up, but maybe it was also what they both needed. Even if Aaron was still angry at him and still wanted to yell.

  There were all sorts of conversations they needed to have. But that wasn’t going to happen right now. Because right now, Aaron had to skate. And to do that, he needed to be exactly who he was.

  Other skaters in his group took the ice; he ignored them. Cayden skated, and Aaron had no idea how he’d done. It didn’t matter anymore. As he waited for his turn, he closed his eyes. The distant hum of the music and roar of the crowd was like waves on the island, pounding and retreating, leaving the shore rocky and water-swept after a storm.

  Eventually, Katie patted his shoulder gently. “It’s time,” she said.

  He opened his eyes.

  The sound of the world and his own stomach-clenching limb-freezing nerves came slamming back. Aaron breathed through the sensory onslaught, both internal and external. He would let the fear go when it was time. And if he couldn’t, he would work through it. Either would be fine. After all, this was what he had trained for.

  Aaron skated laps while the skater before him, Aizat Beysenov, waited for his scores in the kiss and cry. There would be no beating him this time: Aizat had turned in a flawless performance. Aaron didn’t mind. Aizat was a good guy and an incredible skater.

  He couldn’t help smiling at the feel of the ice under his blades, of the wind of his own speed in his face. This was who he was: A boy with skates on his feet and the water in his heart.

  Aizat’s score was announced, Aaron’s name was called, and he raised his hands to acknowledge the cheers in the crowd. He found center ice, took his starting position, and closed his eyes.

  He could feel the tension of the audience when he started skating, his eyes still closed. That was what he needed, to carry them along with him while he told the story of what he had once been and would be again.

  Eyes still closed, he set up his axel, the sound of his blades echoing through the arena as they cut through the ice, building up speed. Right back outside. Left forward outside.

  Jump.

  Aaron snapped his eyes open on the landing—and there was Zack. He was in one of the seats behind the judging panel, his elbows on his knees, his hands pressed to his mouth. Rapt.

  Aaron smiled, a feral come-hither, for Zack and the judges, for the audience, and for the journey he was going to take them on.

  FIVE MINUTES LATER Aaron was sitting in the kiss and cry between Brendan and Katie, clutching a seal plushie on his knees. Ari would probably be furious. Ten minutes ago, he’d have been furious too. But right now, he could only laugh at it and the scatter of other seal stuffed animals the sweepers had picked up off the ice. Zack had told the world about his seals, and people had, apparently, taken them, and him—the seal boy—to heart.

  Also he’d just skated brilliantly, and he knew it. But waiting for his scores was always the worst.

  And he really, really, really wanted to see Zack.

  “And the scores for Aaron Sheftall...” Aaron startled at the announcement; he could feel Katie and Brendan tense beside him too. When the numbers were read out, Aaron shrieked, covering his face with the plush seal while Katie and Brendan shouted with delight and hugged him between them.

  A season’s best, a personal best, and, absolutely crucially, ahead of Cayden. By several places. It wouldn’t get him on the podium, but the podium here had never been the goal.

  “You did it!” Katie was chanting in his ear as she rocked him back and forth on the bench. “You did it, you did it you did it!”

  “It’s not over yet!” Elated as he was—and hopeful as he was—the Olympic decision hadn’t been made yet. He wiped his tear-streaked cheeks on Katie’s shoulder and grinned when she glared at him.

  “You’re gross,” Katie complained.

  “You’re going to jinx me!” Aaron protested.

  “Let’s go watch the rest of this thing, okay?” Brendan said, urging them up and out of the kiss and cry as the next skater’s program began. They passed Cayden and his coach; Aaron could feel the strength of his glare boring into him. Evidently, he was as pissed at Aaron’s final standing as Aaron was elated. But for once he said nothing.

  Brendan led the way further backstage and down a small hallway that was mercifully quiet and somehow empty of other people.

  “I have to go find Zack,” Aaron said. He liked to think of himself as a good competitor and knew he should go back and watch the rest of the skaters coming after him, but Zack had driven all this way for him under the most uncertain of circumstances.

  “Not if he finds you first.” Katie said smugly, looking somewhere over Aaron’s shoulder. Aaron turned to follow her gaze and there, once more, coming around a corner into the little hallway, was Zack.

  Aaron was already trembling with spent nerves and adrenaline. His knees went even weaker at the sight of him.

  Zack stopped in front of him. “Hi.”

  Aaron smiled up at him. “You didn’t catch frostbite out there. Impressive.”

  “Yeah, well.” Zack grinned back. “I brought layers.”

  It was then Aaron noticed the guy standing next to Zack, who looked vaguely familiar.

  Aaron squinted. “Who are you?”

  “Oh, yeah. This is my buddy Matt, from hockey.”

  “I thought I recognized you. Why are you here?” Aaron was genuinely curious. And far too wound up to be more polite.

  “He needed a co-pilot.” Matt jerked a thumb at Zack.

  “You drove out here with him?”

  “Well, yeah. What are friends for?”

  Before Aaron could reply, his phone, tucked in the pocket of his jacket, barked. He stilled. He’d muted every single contact he had, except one.

  Katie’s phone chirped too. So did Brendan’s.

  “I still really hate this part,” Aaron said.

  “Don’t strangle the seal,” Zack warned. Aaron looked down at the poor plushie he’d been unconsciously twisting in his hands.

  “We looked last time,” Katie said. “Your turn now.”

  “I hate you, too.”

  “You’ll thank me someday.”

  “Ugh!” Aaron shoved the seal at Zack and dug the phone out of his pocket. His hands were too sweaty for the fingerprint sensor to work and shaking so badly it took three tries to get his unlock code right.

  Once he did, he stared at the text.

  “Okay technically,” he said, looking up at Zack, his voice somehow steady. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone about this.” He was glad there was no one around but his coaches, Zack, and Zack’s random friend.

  “I’ll get out of your hair,” Matt said, stepping back a few paces.

  Katie gave a muffled shout, her hands clapped over her mouth. “Oh my God!”

  “Yeah.” Aaron’s face hurt. Possibly from smiling so broadly.

  “Okay, all of you” Brendan wrapped one arm around Katie’s shoulders and one around Aaron’s. “If you’re not going to have poker faces, let’s get you somewhere people aren’t going to stumble in on you.”

  “My hotel is walking distance
from here,” Aaron told Zack.

  “You’ll want to get your skates off first.” Zack smiled.

  Chapter 32

  ELEVEN DAYS BEFORE the Olympics

  Almaty, Kazakhstan

  THERE WERE ELEVEN DAYS in between the one where Aaron was named to the U.S. Figure Skating Team for the Olympics and the opening ceremonies in Almaty. Which to most people probably was a laughably short space of time to prepare for intercontinental travel and also being in the Olympics, but Aaron had his coaches and federation to help him, and Zack had been sent off on assignments into combat zones on shorter notice than that.

  Olympic prep was much more fun.

  Zack could even be useful. While Brendan dealt with the federation and Katie dealt with Aaron’s skating, Zack packed for Aaron and worked with his family to make sure they all got to Kazakhstan. And when the major news networks started calling wanting to do human interest pieces about Aaron and his family and his island...well, Zack knew how to manage that, too. Often by talking to Aaron and agreeing that the lesser of two evils was human interest pieces about their relationship and not a camera crew descending on the smallest inhabited chunk of rocks in the middle of Lake Erie.

  Zack suspected Aaron would have spent more time yelling about that if he hadn’t been training every waking hour.

  ZACK TRAVELLED WITH Aaron’s family and they all stayed in a rented apartment in Almaty. It should have been awkward, and on some level, probably was. But he was a welcome distraction as they fretted about Aaron and navigated the chaos of an Olympic city. They didn’t question his fear of flying, and he didn’t question Ari’s scowls in the face of so much land and so little water.

  He didn’t see much of Aaron in the days leading up to his skates—after all, Aaron had an entire Olympic Village to explore, friends to make, and experiences to soak in—but whenever he did, Aaron radiated with happiness and bubbled over with stories about the adventures he was having with Huy and the other skaters who were there. The media—both U.S. and international outlets alike—adored him, and the audience was rapt at his performances.