Chapter 16
~Hudson~
I’ve never been in first place at a senior international competition before, but as I sit in the stands waiting for Riley to take the ice for her short program, my thoughts are entirely on her skate rather than my own.
She’s fantastic to watch in practice when she’s feeling loose and confident, but in the recordings I’ve seen of her previous competitions, she often tightens up when the pressure’s on.
She rushes her jumps, her body is too stiff, and her eyes are glued downward, as if trying to block out the crowd’s energy rather than absorb it.
I don’t blame her for any of that; it’s hard to stay loose when you’re so focused on perfection.
And obviously, I haven’t shared my observations with her, knowing it’ll only get her into her head more.
But I hope that in trying to help her enjoy herself while we’re here, it’ll help her loosen up on the ice too.
As soon as she steps onto the ice for her performance, I can see that my plan seems to be paying off.
Instead of circling the rink, her head down, she scans the stands for our group. When her eyes find me, a grin stretches across her face, warming the air around me like the first rays of sunshine after a long winter.
My confidence, I’m trying to share with her, but talent, she doesn’t need. It’s already there. She just has to trust it.
As soon as the music begins, I can feel the electricity.
Her movements are clean and crisp, brimming with energy, and there’s an intensity to her skating that I haven’t seen before.
But when she lands her triple Lutz, it’s almost too much energy, and I stifle a groan when her body tilts forward, her other skate just brushing the ice.
“Calm down,” I whisper under my breath, my fingers gripping the edge of the seat. “Deep breath, rein it in.”
She hangs on to do the combination, and I can almost see the moment she squares her shoulders, determined not to let the mistake define her.
Shaking off the wobble, she finds her rhythm again.
The rest of the program flows, clean and strong, and by the end, the early error is almost completely forgotten.
She finishes with a flourish, and the marks reflect it.
Fourth place after the short program is a fantastic result.
As the crowd cheers, I can’t help but feel a burst of pride. She has the potential to be on the podium if she keeps it together tomorrow. I don’t know if it’s me or the environment or the change of scenery, but something clicked in her today.
Seems like we’re both skating our best this weekend.
“Are you nervous?” she asks me as we finish up the quick supper we grabbed from the concession stands in between the end of the women’s short program and the start of the men’s free skate.
“If I were, would it really be a good idea to ask me that?” I tease, and she bites back a smile.
“You don’t seem to get rattled by anything. I’m just curious if you even know how to feel fear.”
She really has no idea, and I try to explain myself in a way that’s not too heavy, given where we are.
“I used to get nervous, years ago, but I figured out that what happens on the ice doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.
I mean, winning would be amazing, but it’s not life and death. It’s not worth stressing about.”
“Well, good luck anyway.” Bouncing on her toes for a second, she reaches up and places a tentative kiss on my cheek.
Skaters from the club hug and kiss each other in a friendly way all the time, but the red in her cheeks suggests it’s not something she normally does. Which suggests she means it in more than a strictly friendly way.
My heart suddenly lighter, I grin back at her. “Thanks. I’ll see you afterwards.”
Backstage, I wear my headphones to drown out all the chatter and noise surrounding me, listening to an upbeat playlist that keeps my energy up and my mood mellow.
It only really hits me that I might actually win when I step onto the ice for my skate and the announcer introduces me as ‘currently in first place’.
Up until now, it felt kind of abstract, but with the cameras and crowd focused on me, the pressure hits for the first time, and a twinge of nerves twists at my stomach.
Luckily, I know exactly how to counteract it.
Lifting my eyes to the sea of people, I scan the crowd until I see her: chocolate-coloured waves of hair over the shoulders of her Team USA jacket, eyes focused on me, and when she sees me looking, Riley waves and blows me another kiss, her excitement as palpable to me as if she were standing right there beside me.
She thinks I can win.
I guess I better not disappoint her.
My first jump is the quad Salchow combination, the same one I nailed in my short program yesterday. If I did it once, I figure I can do it again, so I go into the jump fully expecting to nail it.
The crowd cheers as I come out of it on a smooth flowing edge, as well as I’ve ever landed it.
The triple Axel is next, and unlike in the short program, I nail this one too.
Everything just feels right, and the whisper of Riley’s kiss on my cheek ripples through my memory as I head into the first footwork sequence, the crowd starting to clap along to my music.
With each step that goes right, the momentum builds, the crowd’s approval grows, and so does my grin.
Luckily, this program is light-hearted and the smile doesn’t detract from the vibe.
If anything, it adds to the exuberance of the music and the choreography.
I feel so light on my feet, it’s like I’m barely skimming the surface of the ice.
The program isn’t perfect; I mistime my quad toe loop and end up doing a triple instead, but with everything else that goes right, I’m not going to lose sleep over it. I hit my final pose exactly with the last beat of the music and the crowd leaps to their feet.
For a moment, I just stand there, taking it in, my smile wider than ever, and the longer I stand there, the louder they cheer. I scan the crowd again for Riley, looking where I saw her before, but her seat is empty.
I spot her a moment later, down by the boards, tossing something onto the ice for me.
After taking a quick bow, I skate over to pick it up before the girls who collect the flowers after each skate get there. The small plush object confuses me for a second until I turn it over and burst out laughing.
Somehow, somewhere, at some point in time, she found a miniature stuffed version of the peeing statue I took her to see the other day.
It’s fucking perfect.
In the kiss ‘n’ cry area, I hold it up to the camera despite my coach’s protests, saying hi to my family and everyone at Riverbend while I wait for the marks to come up.
When they do, it’s official: I just won my first Grand Prix event, and I leap off the couch while the crowd cheers and laughs along with me.
By the time I get my medal, do a couple of media interviews and get back to the hotel, it’s getting late. My mom will be waiting for my call after following the results online, so I head straight to my room, only stopping when Riley’s door creaks open as I walk past.
“Hey.” She’s already in her pajamas, a cute, blue, flannel set, her hair piled into a loose bun on top of her head and the makeup scrubbed from her face. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” I hold up the gold medal still in my hands, unable to wipe the shit-eating grin from my face. “Pretty good, huh?”
“Amazing,” she corrects, beaming back at me before glancing back and forth down the hall. “Are you on your own?”
“Yeah, I’m just going to call my family and then turn in.”
Her forehead creases as her eyebrows draw together. “You’re not going to go out and celebrate?”
“Not tonight. You need to rest up for your skate tomorrow. We can celebrate after that.”
I have no idea why, but tears spring to her eyes with those words, and I immediately take a step closer to her, concern replacing my happy buzz.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She quickly shakes her head, forcing a smile despite her watery eyes. “Honestly, it’s all good. I should get to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She steps back into her room and closes the door, leaving me standing alone in the hall, slightly baffled. I’ll have to figure out what that was about tomorrow, but for now, my family’s waiting, and I think I might wear my gold medal to bed, just because I can.