Crossing the Ice (26 page)

“Let’s hope none of the stones fall off while I’m skating. It was just finished yesterday.” I fluffed my hair over my shoulders.

“Maybe Stephanie will trip on one of them and fall flat on her face.” Liza snickered.

I laughed as I slipped into my Team USA jacket. “As much as I would enjoy that, I want this to go well for Em. She’s put up with so much crap to get this show done.”

We squeezed past the little girls spraying each other’s hair and went into the locker room to put on our skates. When we’d laced them up and attached our guards, we click-clacked out to the noisy rink. A large crowd packed the bleachers and filled the “standing room” areas around the boards. After a quick scan, I found my parents and Mrs. Cassar a few rows in front of them.

Josh paced next to the lobby doors, stretching his long limbs, and he stopped and smiled when he saw me. “Are you going to wait until right before we skate to show me your dress?”

“Maybe,” I said coyly.

“You’d better not. He’s going to need a few minutes to recover.” Liza giggled and scurried over to a group of the junior girls.

“How about a little peek?” Josh moved closer and tugged on my zipper.

I laughed and closed my hand around his. “I think Mrs. Cassar should see it first since she paid for it. I was going to go tell her hello.”

He grabbed my waist before I could get past him. “I think she’d be fine with letting me have the first look.”

“Hi, Honey!” Mom waved as she jogged over.

We split apart, and Mom embraced Josh, who smiled at me over her shoulder.

“He gets a hug first?” I said.

“Well, his parents aren’t here to give him one,” she said as she put her arms around me.

Oh, Mom. Do you really think his
prissy
mother would be showering him with affection if she was here?

“I want to meet Mrs. Cassar and thank her.” Mom looked toward the bleachers.

“Two minutes!” Em shouted as she worked her way through the crowd of skaters fidgeting and buzzing with energy.

“I’ll introduce you after the show,” I said.

“Okay.” She kissed my cheek. “Skate great. You too, Josh!”

The lights dimmed, and Em welcomed everyone to the show before herding the youngest kids to the ice for the opening number. As we watched them skate in circles to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” Josh played with the collar of my jacket, attempting to peek inside. I laughed and swatted his hand.

“Very soon,” I promised and went to stand next to Mark, who didn’t look like he was having nearly as much fun.

“Last Christmas show ever,” I said.

“You remember our first one?” he asked as he straightened his red tie.

“When we skated into the Christmas tree? Kinda hard to forget.”

One corner of his mouth twitched upward. “They never let us use props again.”

“Well… Stephanie is kind of a prop. Cold and unfeeling.”

He choked on a laugh. “I would’ve much preferred to skate with a plastic candy cane.”

Sergei came over with a clipboard in hand and a pen shoved behind his ear. “You guys ready?”

Mark saluted and inched toward the boards, and I hung back to wait for Josh. Stephanie was saying something to him, but he left her in mid-sentence when he saw me unzip my jacket. He stood in front of me and let out a slow puff of air as I revealed the dress.

“Remind me to thank Mrs. Cassar a million more times,” he said.

I grinned and tossed the jacket under the stereo. “Are you feeling inspired?”

His eyes swept over me, lingering on my deep neckline. “I’m feeling a lot of things.”

I slowly turned to face the ice, wishing I could see his appreciation of the back of the dress. I soon felt it as he brushed my hair from my shoulder, his fingertips tickling my skin. I shivered, and he curled his arm around my waist, warming me with his body.

“You’re up!” Em beckoned the four of us forward.

Our rink manager introduced us, and we formed our opening square, each one of us under a spotlight. Nat King Cole began to croon “The Christmas Song,” and my heart beat faster every second I came closer to holding Josh’s hand. When he led me into our waltz, I tried to memorize everything about the moment — the feel of Josh’s palm pressed to my lower back, the bright light in his blue eyes, the cool breeze whispering between us.

I continued to soak in all the incredible sensations, especially the exhilaration of spinning in Josh’s strong arms as we did our lift perfectly. Our faces were just centimeters apart, our lips so teasingly close to a kiss. The magnetic connection between us hummed stronger than ever.

There was something about skating with Josh that made me feel like anything was possible. He’d opened a bud of freedom in me, and it had blossomed into a new appreciation for the sport I’d loved for so long. The simplest push of our blades across the ice gave me an exciting rush.

The program flew by too quickly, and I reluctantly let go of Josh’s hand when the music slowed to its end. This would be the last time we’d skate together until who knew when. We could skate for fun after our training sessions, but Em and Sergei wouldn’t want us messing around on the ice with nationals coming up. My heart grew heavy knowing I wouldn’t have our practices to look forward to anymore.

I glanced over at Mark and Stephanie, and they wore the smiles Em had forced upon them, threatening extra laps around the rink. The audience applauded loudly, accentuated by the squeals and bouncing of Quinn and Alex in the first row. I waved to them, and their screams rose to an even higher decibel. After we bowed and exited the ice, I hurried to change into an old blue costume for my “Blue Christmas” number with Mark.

He and I took the ice after Liza’s solo, and the sadness I’d felt earlier resurfaced as nine years of memories filled my thoughts. I saw all our Christmas show programs in a mental slide show — from our cheesy numbers as gawky teens to our sophisticated ones as adults. I smiled through the program, keeping my emotions in check, but when I hugged Mark at the end, a few tears escaped.

Watching the rest of the show and all the cute kids while singing along to the Christmas tunes with Josh brought me out of my funk. After the finale, we headed straight for Mrs. Cassar, anxious to hear her opinion on our long-awaited performance.

“Dear, that dress was
spectacular
.” She clutched my arm with her bony fingers. “And the way Joshua was looking at you, I think he agrees.”

“I most certainly do,” Josh said.

“You need to wear it again later when you’re alone,” she whispered but loud enough for Josh to hear. I knew he’d heard it because he pulled at the collar of his dress shirt, where his neck had turned a deep shade of pink.

“What did you think of the skating?” I asked, trying to steer Mrs. Cassar’s mind out of the gutter.

“It was marvelous. I could
feel
how much you loved skating together. You were both very good with your other partners, but together you were absolutely glowing.”

“Yes, you were.” Mom embraced me from behind. “You were beautiful.”

I introduced Mrs. Cassar to Mom and Dad, and she talked and talked until she looked at her diamond-studded watch and said it was time for her nightcap. Once she left, Mom and Dad put on their coats to leave, too, but then they both hesitated and exchanged a nervous look.

Mom opened her purse and pulled out a white envelope. “This came in the mail today.”

The maroon and gold lettering immediately caught my eye, and I pressed the envelope tightly between my fingers. Wouldn’t a college acceptance letter come in a thick packet?

“It’s thin,” I said warily.

Josh put his hand on my back. “That doesn’t mean it’s bad news.”

“Open it,” Mom prodded.

Dad watched me with a cautious smile, and I thought about all the times we’d walked through Boston College’s campus. Dad telling stories while I imagined myself as a popular co-ed, kicking butt on both the academic and social sides. Now it had all come down to a single piece of paper.

My hand shook as I tore open the envelope and removed the letter. I unfolded it and hoped to see the word “Congratulations” jump out on the page. It didn’t, so I quickly started reading.

Blah, blah, blah… I regret to inform you—

My breath stuck in my throat.

I read each painful word that followed, confirming my fear about the thin envelope.

Boston College had rejected me.

“What does it say?” Mom asked.

I handed her the letter and slowly shook my head.

“Oh.” Her face sagged.

Dad leaned forward to read. “Did they defer your decision until the regular period in the spring?”

My head shook faster. I didn’t trust my voice to come out without trembling. Josh hugged me against him and touched his lips to my hair.

“Honey, I’m so sorry.” Mom rubbed my arm.

Dad continued to stare at the letter as if the decision would change. When he didn’t say anything, Mom started rambling about how there were plenty of other great schools. I zoned out somewhere between UMass and Northeastern. All I knew was THE school I’d dreamt about wasn’t on the list.

Dad slid the paper into the envelope. “She’s right. You have lots of other options.”

He was trying to sound positive, but I could hear the disappointment dragging down his voice. I swallowed hard, worsening the ache in my throat.

“Can we talk about those later?” I asked.

“Of course,” Mom said. “I hate to leave you right now, though.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

I wasn’t, but seeing their sad, disappointed faces wouldn’t make me feel any better.

Mom gave me her I-just-want-to-take-care-of-you smile, and Josh stepped back so she could wrap me in a hug. Dad followed, and I knew what I wanted to say but couldn’t because I would completely fall apart.

I’m sorry, Dad.

I barely took a breath, afraid if I did a flood of tears would be released. As soon as my parents walked away, I turned to Josh.

“Can we get out of here?”

He wasted no time getting his bag and mine from the locker room, and we made a brisk exit so none of our training mates could stop us to chat. The blast of frigid night air was a relief. I’d felt like I was smothering inside the rink with all the people around us and all my emotions forcibly contained.

“Do you want to go to my house?” Josh asked as we pulled out of the parking lot.

I was most definitely not in the mood for any run-ins with Stephanie.

“I think I’d rather go home.”

We rode in silence, but the buzz in my head was more than loud. There were two things I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine — not getting into BC and not making the Olympic team. Now everything in my future felt precariously uncertain.

“I always thought I might get deferred to the regular decision period,” I said. “But I never thought I would get outright rejected.”

We stopped at a red light, and Josh took his hand off the gear shift and placed it on my leg. Usually his touch made me feel warm and safe, but the amount of frustration bubbling inside me kept all my nerves on edge.

“Why didn’t I take the SAT again?” I threw my head back hard against the seat. “I know that must’ve been what hurt me the most.”

The light turned green, but Josh had his attention on me, squeezing my leg. A horn honked behind us, and he finally shifted the car into drive.

“Do you have any thoughts about where you might apply now?” he asked.

“Not really. I’ve never looked at any other schools.”

He glanced at me as he curved past a half-frozen pond. “I know you said it might be too expensive, but I’ll put in another plug for UCLA.”

I shook my head. “My parents can’t swing that. They only have so much in my college fund.”

“Maybe we can look at the numbers. It might be possible—”

“I can’t afford to go to school and live in California,” I said with a hard bite. “If you want me close to you, why don’t you stay here?”

“You know I can’t. I have to start school in the fall.”

“But you don’t even wanna go!” I tossed up my hands.

He stared straight ahead, his grip tight around the steering wheel. As if I didn’t feel bad enough, I’d made myself feel worse by yelling at him. I knew the tough situation he was in, how pressured he felt to follow in his grandfather’s and his father’s footsteps.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a much calmer tone. “It’s just… it doesn’t seem fair that you have a spot waiting for you that you don’t even want, while I can’t get the spot I’ve wanted my whole life.”

He slowed the car to a stop in front of Em and Sergei’s house and shut off the engine. “I wish I could reverse it so I was the one with the rejection letter and you’d gotten into BC.”

“You probably aced the LSAT to get into UCLA.”

He fiddled with the key fob hanging from the ignition. “Before I took it I was actually planning to intentionally bomb it so I wouldn’t get accepted.”

I unbuckled my seat belt and turned fully toward him. “You were really going to do that?”

“For a long time I seriously thought about it. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face disappointing my dad that much.”

“Like I did mine.” I lowered my head.

He tipped up my chin. “He’s going to support you wherever you decide to go. He just wants you to be happy.”

“I know he’ll support me, but he had his heart set on this.” My voice wavered, and I strained to speak. “God, I just hate this feeling of letting him down.”

Josh drew me into his arms and held me as I quietly wept. With tears trickling down my cheeks, I lifted my head from his shoulder and found his lips. I needed to feel something good, something to make me forget the bad.

We were lost in a long, slow kiss when the headlights of Sergei’s SUV flooded the car. He turned into the garage, and I waited until everyone had been inside a few minutes before I followed. I preferred to slip upstairs to the quiet of my room if possible.

By the time I took a long shower and changed, the twins were tucked away in their beds and Liza’s door was closed. I wanted to listen to my iPod to help lull me to sleep, but I’d left it downstairs, so I padded down to the living room. Em was in the kitchen, poking through the box of teas, and she looked up when she heard me.