Chapter 26 Luca
Week two passed steadily, with practice during the week, Friday takeout and tape reviews, early morning practice before Saturday’s show, then another Sunday morning surf before the results. It felt like we’d built a little routine together—and…I didn’t hate it.
After two weeks of playing it relatively safe, we decided that week three was the perfect time to take our routine to the next level—and introduce a more complex lift to differentiate ourselves from the other skaters.
Although I’d have said we were “ahead” of most, Alice and Asha were easily matching us week on week in terms of difficulty and execution, with Noah and Sophia not far behind.
Training hadn’t gone perfectly that week, either; we’d had to book a session with the lift specialist to help us figure out where we were going wrong.
Like during the weeks of our pre-show training, it was my hand placement that was tripping us up.
It was either a mistimed grip during the entry, or slippage at the peak of the lift.
But by Friday morning, we had managed to iron out any issues—and the lift looked fucking fantastic, if I did say so myself.
It was the Saturday night live show for Fantasy week, so Matilda and I were dressed like forest creatures.
I wore mossy-green pants and a matching shirt (revealing too much skin, obviously), and Matilda wore a matching whimsical dress (also revealing too much skin, obviously).
The tops of our arms and chests were decorated with small snippets of fake foliage.
Matilda was also sprinkled with a pretty layer of glitter, which made her glow even more than usual.
We made our way backstage, where I knelt to tie Matilda’s laces like I had the previous weeks. Feeling her stare, I glanced up to find her watching me with the softest smile. I dropped my gaze back to the skates, hoping to hide the smile tugging at my own lips.
Once we were both secured in our skates, we watched Noah and Sophia’s performance—Matilda and I wearing matching expressions. Tight-lipped, pressed into a forced smile.
They were good. Better than they’d been the first two weeks. Although arguably not as technically difficult as the skate we were about to perform, their movements were fluid and synchronized. The judges wore faint smiles as they focused on Noah and Sophia’s effortless glides around the ice.
The crowd roared in celebration as the final low notes of their music came to an end.
“We’ve got this.” Matilda squeezed my hand as Noah and Sophia waved to the audience and skated toward us backstage. Their broad smiles and bright eyes gave away their excitement—they knew they’d smashed their performance.
When he spotted us, Noah’s smile morphed into a smirk, his head tilting ever so slightly, as if he was savoring the moment.
“Good luck, guys,” Sophia offered in a smug lilt.
“Let’s smash this, Stevens.” I nudged my shoulder against hers. Her face tilted up, a beautiful smile gracing it. Any hint of unease had washed away and been replaced with assured confidence.
They might have been good, but we were better.
“And next on to the ice, we have Luca Vasvault with his partner, Matilda Stevens.”
We skated into position, center rink. It looked as if I was asking for her hand in marriage as I went down on one knee and Matilda remained standing.
The fast but whimsical notes began, and Matilda set off, slicing the ice and circling me a few times. My gaze followed her movements as if I couldn’t take my eyes off the prettiest fairy in the woods.
As she rounded in front of me, she transitioned seamlessly into a backward glide, her hand extending in a playful “follow me” gesture. I pushed off with a powerful stroke, matching her quickening tempo as we traced the outside of the rink.
With a quick three-turn, I shifted from forward to backward skating, aligning perfectly with her rhythm. Together, we began a synchronized footwork sequence, our blades carving sharp ridges into the ice, each movement perfectly in time.
We split into a figure-eight around the ice, Matilda skating one curve while I traced the other.
Our blades skimmed past each other as we crossed at the center.
We repeated the sweeping patterns, our paths wide and balanced, but this time, as we approached the middle again, I prepared for the lift, shifting my weight and steadying myself for the perfect timing.
Milliseconds before I lifted Matilda, I noticed I was a beat behind.
Desperate to recover, I pushed harder, hoping to give myself enough momentum to lift her.
And I did.
I pushed her into a press lift and held her steady.
But my muscle memory hadn’t adjusted to the timing. I was still behind.
Matilda prepared to lower herself from the lift before I was ready to safely deposit her.
My grip faltered and she slipped from my fingers, straight onto the ice.
Matilda hissed as the medic tightened the bandage around her wrist. After I’d dropped her, she had quickly bounced back up, smile never faltering until we made it backstage, where she grimaced in pain.
I yanked off my skates in record time and swept her into my arms before she could protest. Sure, she could have walked without her skates on, but it was quicker to pick her up than waste time taking both of our skates off, especially with her hand out of action.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can’t believe I dropped her.
We’d obviously had a few falls during practice, but Matilda could anticipate those because we were still learning. Tonight’s mistake should never have happened.
“As it’s a sprain, you need to rest, brace, and ice your wrist as much as possible,” the medic explained to Matilda, who was nodding.
I watched over the woman’s shoulder as she fastened the bandage, just in case I needed to help Matilda re-dress it this week.
“Hopefully the pain meds will kick in soon, too, so you’ll be able to sleep tonight. ”
Matilda glanced up and offered me a warm, reassuring smile I didn’t deserve.
The door swung open, and her mother hurried to her side.
“Are you OK?” she rushed out, worry etched across her features.
Matilda’s brows shot up in surprise. “Ummm…yeah, I’m fine. It’s only a small sprain—”
“I mean, are you OK to perform next week? Continue on the show?”
Realization seeped into Matilda’s features. Her mother wasn’t worried about her well-being; she was worried about her place on the show. “I’ll be fine to continue on the show, Mum.”
“Thank god, because you really have some catching up to do. Two average weeks and then a fall in the third. It’s embarrassing, Matilda.”
Matilda’s cheeks flushed a bright red. I tried to catch her eye, to see if she wanted me to intervene, but she wouldn’t look at me.
Almost as if she were embarrassed. Tension seeped into my neck and down my spine.
She had nothing to feel embarrassed about—it had been my fault.
Meanwhile, the medic was doing a great job of looking busy rearranging her kit.
“I’ll speak to Mark. He’ll be able to pull some strings and get you extra time on the rink—”
“Please don’t. That’s not necessary—”
“Not necessary? What’s not necessary is you still making mistakes after years of skating.” She scoffed and continued, “Don’t start sulking. I’m saying this to help you.”
I glanced back to Matilda, whose eyes had a glassy sheen.
Oh, fuck this.
“You need to go,” I said, and for the first time since she’d entered the room, her mother dragged her fiery eyes away from Matilda.
“She’s my daughter. I’m allowed to be here.”
“Not when you’re talking to her like that you’re not.”
“I’m coaching her. I thought you’d be on my side, given that she messed up this evening.”
“I messed up. I dropped Matilda, not the other way around.”
Matilda’s mother shook her head. “Why do you think she’s looking so sheepish, hmm? She was a beat early. She was too fast.” She turned to face Matilda again, disappointment lacing her every word. “Even someone who’s only been skating for weeks didn’t mess up the timing—”
“Get. Out.” My words cut through hers as she swung her head to look at me. Her lips were parted, brow furrowed. “Get out now, or I’ll call security to have you removed.”
“But—”
“No buts. Don’t look at Matilda, don’t talk to Matilda. She’s with me.”
Something in my tone must have told her I wasn’t fucking around, because she took one final look at Matilda and me, shook her head, and stormed out. A tense silence filled the room, charged by the anger emanating from every pore of my body. How dare she speak to Matilda like that?
“I’m sorry about her. I can’t believe you saw that.” Matilda’s eyes finally met mine, and relief coursed through my veins to see they were no longer glassy. “That’s so humiliating.”
“The only person who should feel humiliated is her. Don’t let her get in your head. She’s the one in the wrong here.”
She nodded, but I couldn’t quite tell if she believed my words. “Thank you.” She spoke softly. “For sticking up for me.”
I swallowed and nodded, unable to say what I wanted to. That I wanted to fight the battles that Matilda wasn’t ready to fight. That I’d happily tell every fucker in the building where the door was if they took advantage of her.
So, I settled on: “Let’s get you home.”