Jagged Edges

by Denise Bower

  “Soy Sauce,” I said.

  “What was I thinking? I can’t even figure out these practice schedules, and I only have four skaters. I’m going to lose my job and have to go back to the traveling ice show.”

  Clare snatched his phone from him, and with the help of Shelby, proceeded to input everything he needed.

  Later that evening, it was my turn to flip out when Sawyer knocked on my door.

  “I have news,” Sawyer said.

  “Good or bad?”

  “I’m not sure how to quantify it.”

  “Okay, lay it on me.”

  “The media has been calling me. They know you’ve arrived. Practice is going to be interesting.”

  “Where are Margo and the boys when I need them. I’m going to have to talk to the media.”

  “Yes, doll, you will.”

  “What have I done?”

  “I might as well get it all out,” Sawyer grumbled.

  “There’s more?”

  “You do remember that Viktor and Chelsea are here.”

  I flopped on the bed and groaned loudly. “Is it too late to pull out?”

  “I booked a couple of practice sessions for you at another arena, but the majority are at the arena with everyone else. Shelby and Clare have practice tomorrow and they skate Wednesday night.”

  “Watch over your students. Don’t worry about me,” I said.

  “You promise you won’t run away?”

  “I promise.”

  “Pinky promise?”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake. Yes, I pinky promise.” I rolled over and tossed a pillow at him. “Can I sleep now?”

  At my first practice, I wore my Ravens leggings and a Ravens midriff specially made for me. I swear the media was six deep in the stands. The thought of flipping them all off occurred to me, but I doubted doing that would win me any points.

  When I did my run-throughs, I didn’t do anything dazzling. I watered down my programs, not doing all the triples I had planned.

  Sawyer tried not to shout at me, but I could tell he was concerned.

  “I’m not laying it all out at practice. They have the list of elements. They know what I’ll be attempting.”

  Sawyer threw his arms up and grumbled about diva behavior. I shut him out and went about my business.

  With practice complete, the media descended on me like vultures at a feeding frenzy. I answered all the questions about skating but shut down the interview the moment they invaded my private life. Under no circumstances would I answer questions about Carter or Viktor.

  Much to the chagrin of Sawyer, I skipped my final practice session. When Shelby and Clare skated their short programs, I hid in the background, wearing jeans and a hoodie. Not even Shelby recognized me. She almost called security when I slipped into the dressing room to wish her good luck.

  The girls skated beautifully, and Shelby was sitting in sixth while Clare was in third. Sawyer was beyond pleased.

  The next night it was my turn to skate my short program. My stomach had taken up residence in my throat and my legs wouldn’t stop quivering. The competitors stared at me, whispering and pointing, as I made my way to the ice to warm-up. I knew they didn’t want me here, thinking I received special treatment by getting a free pass into Nationals.

  The evening was a blur, but I managed to stay on my feet. Something you needed to do if you wanted to be in contention for the title. The program was not memorable, but it was enough to earn the respect from my competition and the judges. As I came off the ice, they congratulated me instead of glaring.

  “Doll,” Sawyer said, trying to hide his glee. “That wasn’t bad.”

  “It wasn’t good either,” I said. “I’m going back to the hotel.”

  He nodded and followed me to the dressing room.

  “I’ll be fine, Soy Sauce.” I waved him off.

  He narrowed his eyes at me and let me have it.

  “You listen to me, Vika. You can still win this thing. You haven’t competed in singles since you were a skinny twelve-year-old kid. I don’t care what anyone is saying, you deserve to be here, and you will skate your long program and blow everyone out of the water. You got it?”

  “Absolutely.” I smiled and shook my head. “Thanks for the pep talk, Soy.”

  He shooed me away and went to talk to the media while I escaped to the hotel. I left a message with Carter that I was going to bed. Before I hung up, I added that I was fine and to concentrate on hockey.

  God, I missed him.

  The next morning I dragged my butt over to the arena to watch Clare and Shelby skate their long programs. I hated these early morning competitions, but the hour didn’t seem to affect the girls. Clare landed on the podium in third and Shelby topped out at fifth. For her first season at the junior level, she performed extremely well. Her future was bright.

  Sawyer convinced me to go to my practice session, where I did a few run-throughs of my long program. This time I put in all the jumps. By the end of practice, most of my competitors were leaning against the boards watching me nail triple after triple.

  That evening we Skyped with the Ravens. Shelby made them all promise to watch my long program. It was a nice diversion from the pressure building around me. Sometimes it felt like it was going to crush me into the ground. I missed how I felt when I skated at night in an empty arena.

  Everything passed in a blur, and suddenly, I was standing in the wings, waiting for my turn and questioning everything. What the hell was I doing? I’d skated my short program and landed in third, but the long program was a different bird. My competitors had honed and practiced their long programs for months on end. I’d only been skating mine for a few months.

  Why was I even here? I thought I’d needed to prove something to myself, but with much thought, I already knew I could stand on my own two feet. Why in the world did I need another medal to validate my existence?

  Even though I was still angry with Viktor, this had nothing to do with him. I rubbed my temples as applause filled the arena for some skater who had completed her routine.

  “Doll?” Sawyer whispered. “You need to calm down. I can feel your nerves.”

  “Change the music,” I said.

  “What? Are you serious? You have a chance to become National Champion.”

  “I know, but I’ve already stood on that top rung and look want it got me. I want to do this for me. I want to do it my way, and if I fall flat on my face, it will be okay. I’m not here for the judges or the glory or even the audience. I just want to skate and share my joy.”

  Sawyer swept me into a tight hug and I clung to him, trying to steal some of his steady calmness. I didn’t want to admit this to him, but skating alone made me more nervous. I didn’t have the reassuring glance or hand squeeze from a partner to settle me down.

  “I’ll take care of the music. You get ready to give everyone a show.”

  When I turned to head toward the dressing room to check my makeup and change clothes, I ran into Chelsea and Viktor.

  “Give us a minute,” Viktor said and shooed Chelsea down the hallway toward a group of skaters, who were whispering and staring at us. They looked like they were hoping for war to break out.

  “Your bodyguard just threatened to rip my dick off if I came near you,” he said.

  I chuckled, trying to imagine Sawyer threatening anyone. Or maybe it was Shelby. I glanced down the hall and he chuckled.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I wanted to wish you good luck. I know I’ll never be able to right what I did to you, but you should know I am sorry for being selfish and stupid. I only want the best for you.”

  “It’s in the past. I’m tired of everyone bringing it up. No matter how much we talk about it, nothing will change what happened.”

  Viktor sighed and reached for my hand, but I quickly stepped away from him.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Old habit.”

  “Your partner looks like she might wet her pants, and I need
to get in the zone.”

  “Good luck, Vika,” he said with a sadness that actually made my heart ache for him.

  “Jesus,” I mumbled and shoved open the door of the dressing room. Thankfully it was empty so I didn’t have to deal with the stares and gaping from the other skaters. I toed off my shoes and then stripped out of my warm-up pants and jacket, dumping them all into my bag. When I sat on the bench, I took several deep breaths before unzipping my skating bag to dig out my skates.

  I barely registered the door opening until I heard Sawyer shouting.

  “You can’t go in there,” Sawyer yelled, trying to barricade the door. The door slammed shut, and I couldn’t hear the words anymore. Eventually quiet returned and a disheveled Sawyer entered the room.

  “You playing bodyguard?”

  “Yes, I’m going to charge you extra,” he said, clearly out of breath.

  “Have I even paid you?”

  He turned me around and secured my dress.

  “About as much as I’ve paid you,” he said.

  “Did you get the music changed?” I asked.

  “Of course I did. Kenny had a freaking fit, but I threatened his manhood and he gave in to my request.”

  “The hockey players are rubbing off on you.”

  He snorted. “I haven’t had any rubbing in months.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. I needed to find Sawyer a date.

  He held out his hand. “Let’s go shred this place.”

  “Stay with me,” I pleaded.

  “Of course. That’s what I’m here for and because you’re my best friend.” He squeezed me and dabbed at his eyes. “You really are amazing.”

  “Don’t make me cry. I worked hard on this makeup.”

  The whispers from the people lining the tunnel sounded almost as loud as the PA announcer. I know a lot of the old school people didn’t agree with giving me an exemption, but they could shove it. I kept my head held high and even managed to shoot a few stiff smiles at some of the reporters.

  Sawyer offered me a few more words of encouragement, and then it was time to let go of his hand.

  I stepped onto the ice, skating a few loops before taking my place at center stage. The audience was unusually loud, but I kept my gaze focused on the ice.

  The music began and a hush fell over the arena. A lot of people in attendance knew this wasn’t my original, long program music. The judges were probably scrambling, but I didn’t care.

  Sawyer had been the one to put this song in my head, and when he saw me free skate to the music, we’d choreographed a routine around the song. It was raw, but it was real. And it was slightly more difficult than the planned program. Most of the jumps were in the second half where I would get more bonus points. I wanted everyone in the building to feel my strength and recognize that I was able to make my own choices.

  It was one of those evenings where the ice felt like a springboard and everything aligned. I was powerful and lyrical, projecting my emotions to the audience.

  I completed every jump, all of my spins, and with a final footwork sequence and quiet spin, the music stopped. At first there was nothing except my breathing. But after a few seconds, the crowd erupted, and I bowed my head, letting the tears drip down my cheeks. I’d done what I’d set out to do, and no matter what the outcome, I didn’t care. I was happy.

  The ice was littered with fake flowers and stuffed animals, so it took me a couple minutes to navigate around the debris. Amongst all the stuff, I spotted a Ravens jersey. I skated toward it, scanning the stands as I went. When someone wolf-whistled, my head snapped up and I saw my guys, plus coaches and staff, all seated together dressed in their jerseys. Margo was sandwiched between Hank and Cam. She dabbed her eyes and waved at me.

  I finally made it to the boards where Sawyer stood, clutching my skate guards. “Doll” was all he managed before he burst into tears.

  “Thanks, Soy Sauce. I love you too.”

  He escorted me to the kiss-and-cry area where I was supposed to sit quietly, wave at the camera, and await my scores. I made it about two minutes. Sawyer nudged me and gestured toward the tunnel. “He wanted to see you before you skated, but I wouldn’t let him.”

  The moment I spotted Carter and his gaze met mine, I was out of my chair and leaping into his arms.

  “That was brilliant,” he yelled.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t miss your skate.”

  “But you played this afternoon.”

  “Short flight from St. Louis,” he said.

  He grinned and pointed in the stands. My dad nodded at me. It was my turn to burst into tears.

  “Victoria,” Sawyer said as he tugged on my dress. “They’re posting your scores. I’m as romantic as the next guy, but I didn’t expect you to fly out of your seat. I can’t wait to watch the broadcast to hear what the announcers said.”

  “Come with me,” I said, pulling on Carter’s hand.

  “On one condition. Why that song?” he asked.

  “Because I love you but I didn’t know how to tell you and….” I shrugged and waited for him to respond.

  “Fuck, ya gonna make me say it?” Carter asked.

  Sawyer was still trying to get me to sit down, but I didn’t move. I wanted to hear Carter’s answer. He gently placed his hands on my shoulders.

  “I think I’ve loved you since you were thirteen.” He smiled, and instead of listening to my scores, I kissed the life out of him.

  “I think you won,” he muttered against my mouth.

  “I know I did,” I said and kissed him again.

  About the Author

  When not sitting in front of her computer writing, Denise Bower can be found cheering her daughter on at the tennis courts, watching hockey, or hanging out with friends.

  She plans on writing more stories and living the best life possible. She's looking forward to another adventure. Let it begin.

  For more information:

  www.denisebower.wordpress.com

  deniselbower@gmail.com