“My feet! I swear I love and hate these skates all at the same time.” I express my fake disgust, pulling my warm feet out of my broken-in skates, knowing full well I won’t be throwing out my practice skates anytime soon.
They are ‘my lucky pair,’ and I’ve got ultra sharp glistening blades, sturdy mobility for my turns, perfect for the wear and tear I put them through.
Plus, my name is engraved in the steel.
Some days my feet are numb from pushing so hard, and other days I feel nothing.
“You need new skates? Didn’t you get a new pair two months ago?” Coach Myers points out, a stern look crossing his face. He worries a lot, but it’s better than not being cared about.
Wish I could say the same for the hell pit that is King Demetros Academy.
In a lot of ways, Coach Myers is like my second dad—not the same deep indigo color as me, and my lion’s mane of 4C midnight curls might give me away, but other than that, we are like two peas of the same pod.
The overeager student on ice and the ever patient teacher.
I smirk, wiggling my free toes with a ‘gotcha’ grin. “I’m playing. I just gave ‘em a workout today.”
Coach is holding onto the railing of the North End rink, and his bare knuckle grip is rattling me. I slide my puffer jacket on, almost due for home. My brow knits together because his grip isn’t letting up. “You did. You did.”
He eyes me cautiously, and it’s not a look I’m familiar with. I can read most of the man's expressions by now. I’ve been training with him since I was ten years old.
“I wanna be an ice skater, Mommy! I want to float around the ice like that lady on TV. Please, please, can you take me? Mommy, please!”
I didn’t care that the lady was white, and I couldn’t see anyone who looked like me doing the sport. I was a kid and just wanted to be a swan in an all white tutu spinning, spinning, spinning.
Now five years later, the dream of gliding around like a swan on ice is still stuck in my heart.
Except the thing is, the stakes are higher. I want an Olympic medal dangling around my neck. I want to pretend to take a bite out of the medal like I see so many of my idols do on the podium.
“What did I miss? I gotta admit–that second revolution wasn’t cute, but my legs are tired, tired from the gym workout yesterday, Coach,” I confess, pushing back my sweated out twists.
Coach Myers shakes his head. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s the news I’m about to tell you. You’re not going to like it.”
I stop and stare at him, a flush of heat rushing through me. I’m sick of setbacks. I missed the qualifiers already because of crap going on at school.
I offer him my special combo expression of constipation and fear, licking my full lips. “What?” I ask, my voice dropping low. “What am I not going to like?”
“I’m switching you to pairs. It’s the only way you’re going to be able to train for the 2026 Winter Olympics. I have someone who’s a perfect fit for you.”
I slide my gloves on. “Wait. I can’t hear you right. I have to do pairs now?” I’m aware my voice is flying high like a kite, but I don’t care. A heavy brick of disappointment drops in my stomach. “Why, Coach? You can’t be serious.”
“It’s the best move, provided you have the right partner. I happen to have an Olympian who wants to work with you.” He pauses, and I’m pretty sure my heart is backflipping in my chest, waiting for his answer. “Roman Henley’s your partner.”
My coach breaks into one of those grins—the type where the person’s been hiding a killer secret from you.
Emotions of all colors have me shook. I can’t believe it! Roman Henley is a year older than me but already a Winter Olympic champion. If he’s my partner, then I’m in.
He nabbed the silver in pairs at the last Olympics, and I’ve been dreamy eyed watching him at regionals cut over the ice like a ninja.
“You—” I point back at myself. “You want me to skate with Roman Henley? That guy is a complete baddie!” I squeal, doing a little twerk dance circle.
“Yes. I’ve been working on him for the last year. His partner is not the best fit for him. She’s, ah, how did he describe her? An ice diva.”
“Wow! That’s crazy, they looked so good on the ice together. Almost like they were in love or something.”
“Looks can be deceiving. You never know what’s going on behind the curtain. Darcy’s been tough to deal with for a long time. He’s been trying to get rid of her for ages.”
“My lucky day, I guess,” I say hesitantly.
It’s been me for five years. Now I have to rely on a partner. Can I do it?
A partner. A Bonnie and Clyde on the ice. Suddenly, I can’t breathe properly, and I’m drowning in overwhelm.
“Shauna, it’s going to be fine. If you want this Olympic dream, you have to make sacrifices, you know that, right?”
I close my eyes, visualizing a still lake in my mind. Just like Coach always tells me to do whenever I get anxious. “I do want it. I’m just scared.”
“Lean into the fear and do it anyway,” he says. His words reach inside and grab me. “We’ve come this far, and you can do this, Shauna.” Coach Myers grips my shoulder with a warm glaze in his eyes.
“Okay, okay.” I suck in an icy breath, nodding at my coach. I can count on him, along with my loving adoptive parents Anton and Jube. “I can do it,” I repeat.
A beep has me glancing down at my cell phone. My parents are outside waiting in the car.
“Great. He’ll be at practice on Thursday, and we can start getting ready for regionals.”
“Okay, Mom and Dad are here. I’ll see you on Thursday,” I mumble.
“Get some rest and make sure you stretch!” he calls out, but I’m already miles gone in my thoughts.
“What would Storm do? She wouldn’t be scared. She’d call in the weather and use it,” I mutter. Storm is iconic, and one of my favorite Marvel characters of all time.
Whenever I get nervous on the ice, I channel my inner Storm.
I walk out of the packed rink to my parents' car with my brain on hyperdrive.
Roman Henley, Roman Henley.
I slide into the backseat with a thumping heart. My sweet mother turns to look at me. She’s always worried I’m going to injure myself. As soon as my butt lands on the leather seat, she body scans me for potential breaks.
I see the top of my father’s glistening bowling ball head shining and shaking from side to side at Mom.
“Mom, I’m okay, except I have to do pairs now if I’m going to make regionals,” I blurt out, unable to hold the news in.
My father studies me in the rear view mirror. “Change ain’t easy, but it’s necessary. You know how to make your dreams come true, kid. You’re royalty. I’m proud of you, baby girl, no matter what.”
My adoptive father is an inspiration, and he’s worked hard his whole life as a Vancouver school cleaner. Never complaining, always whistling like a cardinal, and full of wisdom.
I have no idea who my real parents are, except for the vague information my adoptive parents gave me.
Still to this day, I don’t know why they gave me up.
Maybe I will never know…
As my father peels off from the curb to our suburban house, I think about having some other life. One that’s not death by a thousand paper cuts at school.
I’ve drawn the lucky straw with loyal friends, Padmire, Ava, and Terri. They’re the best. I smile, thinking of how I met them as the landscape changes.
“Can I sit here, because the probability of anybody else taking up residence at this table seems slim to none.”
I had to look up. Who says something like that? Padmire—that’s who, the eternal science and intellectual geek.
He’s a special kind of adorable with oversized glasses and ripply, wave-capped hair. His silliness keeps me sane, and my heart smiles when I see him.
Ava’s my other ride-or-die friend, and we ‘geek out’ together over Marvel films when I’m not too tired from training. I’ll never forget the day she rushed up to me before English class.
I’d flinched, ready to defend myself, but ended up shocked by her fangirling over my Storm shirt. She was wearing one too.
“Shut up! We have to be friends now. Where did you get that? Do you love Storm too?”
“She’s the best!”
After that, we were inseparable and still are—well as much as I can be with all my skating training.
Terri is a badass drama student, and I’m pretty sure she’s destined to be a big time actress or something. We became friends in a different way.
“Ugh! You’re getting out of class again for your stupid skating! You don’t fit in here, what are you even doing here?”
Mercury, my resident mean girl bully, tried to get her claws into me again just like the Shadow King, but Terri arrived just like Phoenix, ready to defend me.
“Ugh yourself. Least she has talent. The only talent you have is picking up jockstraps after your walk of shame the next morning.”
All the kids who were about to walk into class burst out laughing, and we were fast friends after that.
“Thank you. I’m so sick of her, girl.”
“Girl, I got your back. She’s lost for sure.”
I don’t know what it is, but Terri’s got this shine, like my father’s polished black boots. She’s gonna make it no matter what she decides to do after high school.
We turn the corner for home as I think about how skating has saved me. When I glide into a waltz jump and my blades float atop the ice sheets, I feel like I can conquer anything.
All the pain of not fitting in dissolves. It doesn’t matter that I'm adopted and my parents didn’t want me. I’m a brown-skinned swan pirouetting into heaven.
I jump out of my trance. “I guess so,” I mumble, realizing I haven’t answered my father’s question from eons ago.
He says nothing, but I spend the rest of the night contemplating my skating fate. Roman Henley might be my ticket out of here…
That’s the problem with getting too excited about things.
As I'm lying on my bed, resting my legs, my mother calls out.
“Shauna! Coach Myers is on the phone for you.”
“Okay, coming.” My mother opens my door and hands me the cordless phone.
“Here.”
I take it, my heart thumping wildly. I just saw him. Why is he calling now?
“Shauna.”
“Yes?” I slid my legs back on my bed, my throat getting dry.
“I hate bringing this to you, but Roman’s been injured, and he’s out for the next little bit. You’re gonna have to train with the Vancouver Wolves.”
Now my heart is beating like a racecar. “Vancouver Wolves? No, you can’t be serious. Are you talking about the hockey team? The semi-pro team? Those ice hackers!” I cry out.
“Yes, Shauna. The ice hackers. It’s the only way we're going to keep momentum.”
Where’s Storm when I need her?
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