Chapter 2
Dmitrii was used to being the new person at a rink.
He had trained in seven different cities under a dozen coaches.
Although normally he was not walking into a building he had never been in to meet with a coach that he had only spoken to twice over video calls.
There were no other international students in training at this rink.
In fact, none of the other skaters here were internationally ranked at all.
The head coach was a friend of a friend of a former physiotherapist that he had worked with.
Dr. Aubrey also knew her, so Dmitrii had taken that as a sign.
His new temporary coach had been a skater on the American national team a decade or so ago and had peaked with a first place at her nationals the year she had managed a triple Axel in her free skate.
Maybe that was part of what made him think she could coach him while he was in this country seeing Dr. Aubrey.
She had struggled with the same jump that now made him wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.
The air inside the rink was a combination of cold and humid from an air-conditioning system struggling to keep ice frozen when it was hot outside.
Simple physics explained why nearly every rink in the world had that same odor to it.
This place only had one rink, which meant there was safety plexiglass for hockey.
That was not something that was unusual.
Most competitions didn’t even take the plexi down for figure skating.
Standing by the gate on the side marked ‘home’, he saw his new coach with Dr. Aubrey standing next to her and wearing a warm beige cardigan.
Four other skaters that he didn’t recognize were working on some basic skating skills on the far side of the rink.
As he walked up, both women smiled at him. His doctor spoke first. “I am just going to sit right over there. Just pretend I’m not even here.” She had a coffee cup held in both hands and, even with the cardigan on, looked cold.
“I have a jacket in my bag. I could grab it for you?” He set the bag down, unzipping it before Dr. Aubrey had even responded.
“I think I will be fine, but thank you.” Her head tilted slightly as she watched his actions.
He pulled out his red Team Russia jacket and then paused. “Are you sure?” It was still early in the day, and with only a few people in the building, the cold and damp permeated everything. “You could just …”
“Would it make you worry less if I kept it with me in case I needed it?” Even with as relaxed as Dr. Aubrey was trying to seem, the detail with which she watched his reaction was hard to miss.
Dmitrii paused, taking a moment to think before he nodded.
“Yes. It would.” He tried to remember if he had been anxious about things like this before the accident, and maybe he had.
Whenever his grandmother had watched him skate, she had always dressed warm enough, but his mother had been another story.
That nagging doubt that his mother might have enjoyed watching him skate if she had been comfortable instead of cold surfaced as he looked at his doctor standing there with just a cardigan over her suit.
Yes, he would feel much better if she had the jacket with her.
“Thank you for the honest answer.” Dr. Aubrey reached out to take the jacket, folding it over her arm before walking to a seat in the third row where she would have an unobstructed view despite the plexiglass around the rink.
Dmitrii shifted his attention to his newest coach once he knew the doctor was fine.
Unlike Dr. Aubrey, Coach Lisa Truskel had dressed for a day on the ice.
She was already wearing her skates with a white, knee-length puffer jacket, which seemed to be the unspoken uniform of female coaches for the past decade.
With her dark hair slicked back into a low ponytail, she would seem just as at home at any rink in Europe.
“It’s very nice to meet you in person, Dmitrii. Why don’t you get your skates on, and we’ll get you out on the ice?” Her gaze kept drifting to his hair as she sized him up now that he was physically there.
“It is nice to meet you face to face as well.” He knew he looked a little different from when people had last seen him skating.
The first thing people always noticed was how short his hair was now.
He’d shaved most of it off. No, that wasn’t true.
Most of his hair had been shaved when he had had the accident.
Dmitrii had shaved the rest to even it out.
Before, his hair had been long enough that it was normally fastened back when he skated.
Now, his dirty blond hair was short, barely having grown out since he had been hospitalized.
However, the serious look, the pale green eyes, and the thin frame made it seem like not a lot had actually changed, not until you saw the slowness and hesitance with which he laced up his skates.
Finally, he tugged his leggings down over the tops of his skates and walked over to the wooden boards surrounding the rink.
He already felt his breathing speeding up.
He had worked so hard at everything it took to get on the ice.
With a deep breath, he tried to tell himself that he could do this, that he would be careful and not fall.
Dmitrii closed his eyes as he held onto the wooden barrier at the edge of the ice.
He focused. One scent, the rubbery smell of the mats, it never went away, always present at every rink.
One touch, the hard wood under his hands, well-worn, but solid.
One sound, the soft hum of the air conditioning units.
They were always running in the summer to keep the ice frozen.
One taste, the soft cherry of the familiar cheap lip balm he wore.
One sight. He opened his eyes and looked at his hands, pale against the wood, though not as pale as normal.
He’d been off the ice so much lately that he actually had a little tan.
Not that anyone else thought he had a tan, but he did, half a shade towards normal from his too pale winter look.
Letting out a breath, Dmitrii slipped off his blade guards.
Dr. Aubrey wasn’t his first attempt at seeing someone about his mental health following the accident.
They had sports psychologists and psychiatrists back in St. Petersburg.
He had tried everything those doctors had said, followed all their suggestions and tried all their strategies.
None had worked. They had all given up on him.
He stepped onto the ice, letting himself glide away. He was just doing some simple skating. Dmitrii tried to get the feel of the rink with just some forward motion. If he was skating forward, he was okay. Well, as okay as he managed after the accident.
By the time he got around the rink to where his brand-new coach was standing, he was almost calm. He should have known what was coming.
As he approached, Coach Truskel called out, “Now backward.” None of the documents she had received spelled out what his triggers were. There were so many of them it was almost easier to say what actions on the ice did not put him into a panic.
Dmitrii took a moment, and in those seconds, he saw her surprise at his hesitance. The last time she had seen a recording of his skating, he had been throwing quad jumps on a moment’s notice. Now, it took a bit for him to even switch to skating backward.
Finally, he switched directions. His heart pounded in his chest, as if he had been skating for hours instead of just a few moments.
He was doing it, though. Never mind, this was a skill that children learned at the youngest levels of skating.
He was doing it, traveling backward, his head twisted to make sure he avoided everyone else. He felt himself settling in.
Dmitrii still had his speed. Even with the fear, he still skated with the same speed as he always had.
He actively ignored every sign of panic until he passed the woman again.
This time she called out, “I want to see a Toe-Loop.” The uncertainty in her voice was clear.
She was asking for a jump that even a child could do.
It was less certain if he could, nevermind that he was an internationally ranked skater.
He didn’t want to do the jump. No, he wanted to, but he felt the fear building inside.
The edges of his vision darkened, and he felt a tingling at the back of his neck.
Still, he shifted his weight, back outside edge, leg around and landing on the outside edge of the same foot, just a single Toe-Loop.
It was one of the first jumps taught. It should have been easy, but instead of skating off, he just let himself glide.
He wasn’t even paying attention to his direction as he gripped both of his thighs after the landing.
He had done it. It wasn’t his first single Loop after the accident, but it was the first where he hadn’t dropped to his knees after.
“Good job, Dmitrii. Watch where you are going now and keep moving.” Coach Truskel was just loud enough to get through to him, and he nodded, doing as she instructed.
His heart kept pounding in his chest as he skated around the rink.
He didn’t know what was coming next. He didn’t know how much more he could take.
With another circle around the edge of the rink, he felt his heart getting back to normal.
His breathing was calming down. This wasn’t too bad.
There were only two other people on the ice right now - it was fine.
It wasn’t fine, but at least he could do this.
Then, on the next pass, he heard Dr. Aubrey, “Axel.”
Dmitrii’s eyes widened. He shook his head even as he shifted to skating forward. He hadn’t even managed a waltz jump since the accident. An actual Axel… he couldn’t.