CHAPTER 105
Ana
LAKE FAERIELADLE IN January was a vision in white.
I was finishing my morning skate at the Lake when a small braid of golden blonde had landed next to me.
“You okay, there?” the bright blonde asks me.
“Yeah, just tripped,” I reply back.
“It’s your laces.”
“What?”
“They’re too loose.” She reaches out her hands to help me.
“Oh. Thanks.”
Then my jaw dropped to the ice. She landed a perfect double axel.
There was no way she was older than me, yet it was unheard of to have reached that level of a jump and with that level of precision at that age.
But, no, I found out she had just turned seven, a month before I also would.
“Anahita, nice to meet ya.”
“Cool name. I’m Violetta.”
The Lake became even more of safe haven for me. In the joy of meeting my first figure skating friend, a piece of normalcy felt restored.
“How’s your knee?” she asks.
“Better,” I say.
“I made you this leg warmer. It’s supposed to help with the pain.”
“Thanks, Vi.”
“My mom’s calling me. See ya tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
When I learned she was a Dupont, it all made sense.
She was destined to be a star. Whether she liked it or not.
“It’s a friendship necklace.” I hand her a silver pendant.
“Anahi!” She holds the matching figure skate to her chest. “I love it.”
She was my friend first, skating companion second.
“Vi, please tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong. Please. Let’s just keep skating.”
She was the daughter of the biggest skating empire. Her mom looked the part. I feared for her.
She insisted that she was fine.
“Snow globes?”
“Snow globes!” We giggle as we dash toward the ancillary shop.
“Woah.” Our eyes glow to the top shelf, where a string of crystalline figurines reflect scenes of winter festivities, ones grandiose enough for a royal family.
“They give those out to the winner of Faerieladle Winterfest,” my best friend sighs. “I want one, someday.”
“You’ll get one,” I promise, her rosy cheeks resting against mine.
“Friends, forever?”
“Forever.”
“I got in,” I say. “I got into The Academy! We’re going to be skating together! Vi? Did you hear what I said?”
“I did,” she says.
“You don’t look excited.”
“No, I am. I’m happy for you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I—I have to go.”
“Wait—”
“Hey—” She cuts me off before her name escapes my mouth.
“Violet Dupont. And you are?”
The foreign scan the three girls hitched around her throw me isn’t why my stomach dips and step distances.
I stretch my eyes wide enough that it drowns the water.
“Ana Petrov. Nice to,” I choke out, “meet you.”
Lake Faerieladle, once a vision in white, faded into a watercolor, bleeding a palette of scornful red.
Because Violet and I, we would never be friends again.