Chapter 10 #4
“It’s going to be okay, Lev, do you hear me?
” Alisa whispered, squeezing his hand as she looked at him and felt her heart break like ice beneath colliding skates.
The shards seemed to scatter across the rink, just like her heart.
Based on Lev’s condition, it did not seem like a simple sprain or minor injury — most likely, it was a meniscus injury…
He had screamed so loudly, a scream of despair she would never forget.
Lev looked broken, both physically and mentally, slumped against the medical bed.
The last lift had ended in disaster, yet he had managed to save her from a catastrophic fall.
If he hadn’t reached out, she would have hit the ice hard, and the consequences could have been far worse for both of them.
The thought sent fresh tears down her cheeks.
Lev, drowsy from the painkillers, blinked slowly at her.
““Why are you crying, you fool?” His voice was rough.
Alisa’s voice caught in her throat.
“We’ll show them more. We still have a chance to get a quota in China… if we didn’t pass today, even though we should have scored high. Do you remember the score they gave us?”
Alisa shook her head faintly, swallowing hard.
“Sorry… I don’t remember the end. I was… frozen in horror. You were curled up on the ice, moaning in pain… and then… the program ended. Someone helped me and lead me to the bench. And then… emptiness. And now… I’m here with you.”
Pike came up again, gently taking Lev’s other hand.
“We’re going to the local clinic for a proper diagnosis. The car is almost here. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” She stroked Lev’s cheek, and he closed his eyes for a long, slow moment.
Alisa lingered a heartbeat longer.
“Alisa… it’s time for you to go back to the stands. They should have finished and announced the scores for the group.”
She nodded silently, taking one last glance at Lev.
He lay there, eyes closed, trying to rest or perhaps relive the moment inside himself.
Alisa’s throat tightened; no words, no tears, could release the knot.
She gently let go of his hand, her fingers lingering over his, and left the room, passing through the flurry of nurses and doctors rushing past her.
* * *
When all the results were finally posted, it was time for group meetings and press interviews, and Alisa had to gather every scrap of courage just to face the reporters. The noise buzzed in her ears, a chaotic static that mirrored the sorrow and despair gnawing at her soul.
They hadn’t taken the quota.
Ilya and Maria had claimed it, that was one out of possible three quotas per country.
It was a crushing blow, a bitter failure for Alisa and Lev and other skaters from their country.
Deep down, she had known, somehow, that this year, the Olympics would slip through their fingers.
The premonition had been there all along, gnawing quietly at the edges of her mind.
All the skaters came out in pairs. Alisa sat alone, an empty chair beside her where Lev should have been. They had finished last in the group, a disappointment that felt like a physical weight pressing on her chest. And yet, it had all started so well…
Reporters immediately attacked Alisa with questions, not the gold medalists, Tora and Loke, who also looked worried.
They seemed to take the situation personally because it could happen to any pair.
All the skaters at the press conference that day looked gloomy despite the fact that they usually smiled, but everyone was shocked by the situation.
Tora and Loke were sitting on the left side, while Alisa was sitting on the right, arranged according to the competition order.
And when the reporters literally bombarded Alisa with questions—
“What do you plan to do next?”
“Will you skate alone?”
“Will Lev recover in time for Beijing?”
“Will you participate in the qualifiers solo if he can’t?”
Alisa felt her head spinning from the rapid-fire of Russian and English at the same time. Then, finally, one question broke through the chaos. A local Boston news reporter asked her simply.
“How do you feel when you skate in pairs?”
Alisa paused, the words slipping out quietly but clearly for all to hear.
“An emotion… we become one emotion. Like a single line on an artist’s canvas, stretching and spiraling into other lines without interruption. It’s alive. It’s a little life you live in the moment. That’s what figure skating in pairs is all about.”
The Boston reporter smiled warmly, scribbling notes on her phone.
Then she was bombarded with questions from Russian reporters, and the constant switching between English and Russian was exhausting.
Her brain felt like it was glitching, and she could barely keep up with the languages being spoken around her.
However, one reporter in particular irritated her with the audacity.
“How do you plan to return to the country when you didn’t take the quota that the agency expected you to win in Boston?”
Alisa’s jaw clenched, her whole body coiling with fury. Her eyes swept to the empty chair beside her, Lev’s absence making the insult sting even more.
“I don’t plan on coming back. You can fuck off with these questions. Idite nahui!6”
Tora tensed up. She did not understand Russian, but she could hear the aggression in Alisa’s voice, and she had never seen her in such a bad mood.
Tora stood up and approached Alisa, sitting down beside her in the empty seat reserved for Lev while taking her hand.
Alisa slowly looked at her rival, and Tora with a solemn face said to the reporters, “Are you seriously asking her such uncomfortable questions?”
One of the Russian reporters snapped at her.
“How did you even get here? We’re not talking to you right now.”
Alisa’s patience snapped and she jumped up from the seat, yanking her hand from Tora’s, her eyes burning with anger as she silenced the reporter with an angry hiss.
Nevertheless, the reporter pressed again, the red microphone stabbing at her like a blade. “So how do you plan to return to Russia as such a disgrace, Alisa?”
Alisa couldn’t take it anymore. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt a hand on her waist, and instinctively, she let Tora guide her away from the conference chaos.
“Fuck you, assholes! What are you even doing here? Get lost!” Tora shouted, her voice echoing through the room.
The reporters only yelled louder, throwing insults after them, but Tora held Alisa firmly and they retreated into the dark corridors of the arena.
Alisa let herself break down, sobbing quietly into Tora’s side.
When they were safely out of view, Tora pressed her gently against the wall. Alisa’s gaze dropped to the floor.
“What did they ask?” Tora’s voice was thick with worry.
“They… they asked me how I planned to return to Russia, after being such an embarrassment, after failing to take the quota everyone was counting on…” Alisa’s words trembled, her body shivering.
Tora wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight, feeling Alisa’s trembling.
“Shh… shh… they’re just assholes,” she whispered fiercely. “The moment something like this happens, they swoop in, like condors on prey… nothing more than vultures.”
Alisa buried her face deeper into Tora’s chest, her sobs growing louder, and Tora stroked her shoulders and arms, murmuring, “It’s okay… it’s okay…”
“You don’t have to come back…” Tora whispered, and Alisa stiffened, lifting her head to meet Tora’s eyes.
“You’re kidding, right?” Alisa let out a bitter, venomous laugh, wiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. “I’m their citizen, with a weak passport. You don’t understand… I can’t just… disappear like that.”
“You can,” Tora said softly. “We’re in America. You could stay, seek asylum… even speak your side.”
Alisa’s laugh became sharp, almost manic. “So what? Become a traitor to my homeland? Never see my parents again? Never visit my grandmother’s grave?” A vein throbbed in her neck, another in her temple and forehead. She wasn’t crying now though, she was just burning with uncontrolled rage.
“I… I’m sorry. Is it really that complicated?” Tora asked carefully.
“You don’t understand. You never will,” Alisa shot back raising her voice and breaking free of Tora’s arms. She turned and walked away, her silhouette fading into the dimly lit tunnel, then disappearing around a bend into the shadows.
Tora stayed behind, silent, watching her vanish. After a moment, she pulled out her phone and typed a message:
Tora: I’m at the same hotel as you are, 7th floor, room 7010. If you want to talk normally, come in.
Tora finally allowed herself to relax, returning to her own room. Gold medal gleamed on her neck, their team had claimed all three quotas for the country. But the image of Alisa, broken and distant, haunted her.
She couldn’t stop wondering: would they ever see each other again? Or never?