Chapter 25 #2
Dmitrii knew very well that that was a question where he was supposed to volunteer his experience.
“My training began when I was six and skating in and around St Petersburg. I started cross-training seriously in ballet at the age of seven. I have had twice-weekly instruction over the past few years through the skating program at my home rink. I have taken two summer programs through a division of the Mariinsky specifically geared to athletes. So, all of my dance training has been targeted towards skating.” He hadn’t had as much training as some other people at his rink.
The girls at his rink received much more dance training than the boys ever did.
“That’s impressive.” She didn’t comment further. Instead, she had him move to the barre to work through what was a very typical warmup. As he was warming up, she spoke quietly to Coach Williamson. They were both watching him, eyes critical, but approving.
As soon as Dmitrii finished the warmup, Coach Williamson stepped back to observe as the woman started to really force Dmitrii to work much harder than he normally did.
It had been weeks since he had had to work this hard, and his muscles were screaming at being bent and stretched in such ways.
Holding poses for a longer count than he would have done on his own left his calves and glutes burning.
He knew this was good for him. He needed this.
By the time they were done, his body burned and his chest was heaving, but it felt good. In many ways, this pain felt like home. No one there had ever gone easy on him either. “Thank you, Ma’am.” He bowed to his instructor.
Before he could grab his things to change, Coach Williamson walked up to him. “We’re going to work on your choreography next. Get some water, some fresh air if you need it. We’re going to start in fifteen.”
“Yes, sir.” He nodded and grabbed a bottle of water from his bag.
It was almost his last one. He’d have to remember either to grab some at a convenience store soon or to get some more from the hotel vending machine.
“I’ll be fine in a minute.” He glanced at the clock.
Tyler would still be on the ice. He kind of wanted to peek, but it would be better if he didn’t.
After the short break, Dmitrii was back to working hard.
Without being on the ice, his anxiety and fear didn’t make an appearance.
He moved through his step sequence and his choreography.
He moved on to his spins using the spin board.
Neither of the others had much input on what he was doing; instead, when he was finally done, they looked at him and then at each other.
Finally, Coach Williamson spoke. “It really is only on the ice you are struggling.”
Dmitrii nodded, “Yes. I am fine until I set foot on the ice.” Maybe it was just how he would always be around ice. How many times could he cheat death? The near drowning, the head injury … what would be next?
Coach Williamson looked at Dmitrii, not knowing what to say.
What could you say to someone who had everything to be an amazing skater, but then tensed up and failed to perform on the ice?
He let out a breath through his nose, watching Dmitrii for a moment before finally speaking, “You’re going to overcome this. You have determination.”
Dmitrii tried to nod. Coach Williamson sounded so certain, but he himself wasn’t nearly as positive.
He had so many doubts. Yes, he had come so far, but it wasn’t enough.
Would he be able to make it? Yes, his doctor thought he was doing well and making progress.
Intellectually, he knew he was making progress, but there was so much more that needed to be done.
He closed his eyes for a second. He had to believe that he could.
If he didn’t believe in himself, who would?
He risked losing all his support here when he broke up with Tyler, but he’d rather that than hurt Tyler any more that was inevitable.
“I’ll manage.” He had no idea how, but he would. He had survived until this point.
“Stretch out, then get changed to go on the ice. I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.”
Knowing he was dismissed, Dmitrii shoved his ballet flats into his bag and slipped on his sneakers before leaving the studio.
This was a chance to grab some water and a snack and try to get his brain wrapped around what he was about to do.
He needed to skate better than he ever had before.
He needed to convince everyone that he was healed.
It was the only way to save Tyler from more pain.
Staying here and going on dates with Tyler was nothing but a delusion.
He should have known he would never have that.
Dmitrii knew he should stay away from the rink until it was his time.
Watching Tyler wasn’t going to make anything he had to do any easier.
He needed to end this before Tyler got any more attached.
Oh, he didn’t want to, but the words from Tyler’s mother would not stop running through his head.
He slipped into the stands, trying to stay out of sight but needing to watch.
At the moment, Tyler was the only skater on the ice.
Dmitrii leaned forward, head resting on his hands as he watched Tyler do a run-through of what was evidently his new program.
He wasn’t watching that the jumps were just doubles right now.
He wasn’t watching that the step sequence would probably only be rated as a 2.
The part of his mind that always analyzed skating wasn’t paying attention to the spins without all the bullet points they needed or how the transitions weren’t there yet.
No, he was watching Tyler smile as he skated.
Tyler loved skating. It was so obvious. Everything the man did radiated the joy he was feeling.
It was beautiful. He was going to miss seeing this so much.
Dmitrii jerked as something wet hit his hand …
then he realized he was crying. Tears ran down his cheeks.
He wanted to be near Tyler. He wanted to let himself feel someone else so happy, so full of a desire to skate for all the right reasons.
Tyler deserved better. Dmitrii straightened and rubbed away the tears with the cuffs of his jacket.
He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t let himself cry.
He had to be strong today, this week, this life.
As Tyler’s final spin ended in a scratch spin for a program ending, Dmitrii knew this was when he had to move closer to the rink and get his skates on. After Tyler got his feedback, it would be time for him to skate, and he had to be amazing. He had to fake being healed.
Long ago, skating had stopped being something Dmitrii did for fun.
When he had been little, it had been fun.
Oh, how he had loved when his grandmother would watch him skate, even if it was just at the little local outdoor rink with friends.
He had been talented, though, and that was when everything had started to go sideways.
He had traded away his childhood for some medals that he didn’t even care about.
Dmitrii skated onto the ice, moving to warm up as he tried to ignore the prickling across the back of his shoulders.
His skin felt too tight, and he knew that was a bad sign.
No, he could not let himself fall back into that pit.
He stopped, looking down at the ice under his feet.
This wasn’t a stream. This was an ice rink.
There weren’t rocks and cold water under his blades.
This was just three layers of ice over painted concrete.
He knew how they made the ice. He knew how the floor was chilled and then water frozen on top of it.
The white wasn’t snow. The white was just paint under the ice.
If he dug down just a little, he’d find nothing more exotic and dangerous than concrete.
There was no water under there to drown in.
There was no water under there where any restless spirits could hide.
He tried to focus on what the doctor had said about memories and being unconscious.
What he had thought he had heard and seen held no more weight than a dream.
Dmitrii paused, a hand on the wooden barrier around the rink.
As he closed his eyes, his hands were touching the wood.
He could smell the wet rubber mats outside the rink.
He could taste his cherry lip balm. He could hear their coaches talking to Tyler, but when he opened his eyes to see, that was when he saw Tyler’s face with that adorable worried expression and a smile. It broke his heart.
He knew what he had to do. Maybe he couldn’t do this for himself, but Dmitrii was willing to gamble everything that he could do it for Tyler. He took a deep breath before he started to skate. He didn’t wait for his coaches to tell him what they wanted from him. Dmitrii had something to prove.
In silence, as only his blades on the ice echoed through the building, he started jump warmups.
A single Toe-Loop was followed by a double and then a triple.
He would not be foolish and do any quads, not after how long it had been.
The same jumping process was repeated for the Loop without the toe assist. He didn’t stop.
The Salchow jump was followed by the Flip and the Loop.
Each jump type was executed as a single, a double, and then a triple.
He knew everyone was holding their breath for what came next.