Page 61 of Blade
Indy threw the dress on the floor, then dug through the pile for the others like it. She had three in total, each of them landing on the beige carpet by her feet.
“What are you doing?” Ana asked.
“I’m not bringing them.”
“But it’s Nationals. Dawn will be so mad.” Ana felt the words stick in her throat as she thought about Dawn and her anger. And, in particular, that night at her house when Ana had tried to tell her about Indy’s bruise. The way she’d pressed the heel of her blade against Ana’s throat. Then her head.
The message had been clear. Indy was Dawn’s business, not hers, and this had created an impossible tug-of-war inside her. Every day, Ana prayed that Indy would land the triple Axel so she would stop falling. But every day she fell, over and over, then rubbed the DMSO into her skin. She was so close.
Indy had become resigned to the training. She’d stopped believing she could go home if she landed it. Which meant she’d stopped believing her mother cared more about her than her skating. Just like those bleacher bees. This made Bobby Stark grow even more important, the one grown-up she could trust. But she was stuck here, with Dawn and these small rebellions.
“I’ll tell her I forgot them,” Indy said with a smile. “What can she do to me?”
“Indy ... don’t,” Ana pleaded, feeling that blade against her skin. What could Dawn do? WhatwouldDawn do? The truth was, Ana had no idea. And she didn’t want to find out.
Ana saw Indy off on that Saturday afternoon, the DMSO hidden in Jolene’s shampoo bottle. She had her gray dress for the free skate, the emerald dress for the short program, and a dozen practice outfits—including the three blue ones with the yellow butterflies. Ana had shoved them into her suitcase when Indy was in the shower.
An hour later, Ana went to the rink, dead quiet now that Dawn was on her way to Phoenix with Indy and the other skaters who’d made it to Nationals. The Palace felt deflated. Like a balloon after a party. For the first time since she’d been here, there were no bleacher bees. No coaches. No international skaters. Everyone was slacking off, licking their wounds from the last round of competitions.
And in this quiet, dead space, Ana felt lost.
She didn’t finish her last session. She skated off the ice and went to the locker room as if it didn’t matter what she did or didn’t do. Because it didn’t, actually, matter. No one even tried to stop her or ask her why she was giving up for the day.
Sitting on the bench, unlacing her skates, her hands began to tremble, and her fingers grew stiff as they pulled the nylon loose. She could have cried right then and there. And how was that possible? Indy had only been gone for a few hours, but this was how it seemed to go. The year divided into comings and goings, not just people, but feelings too. Adrenaline in the fall, longing in the spring. The summer a blur of excitement. Nothing was ever here to stay.
Her heart was in her throat, the ground shifting beneath her with a tremor that threatened to bring down the world she had begun to rebuild after that night in the field, and Kayla leaving, and her mother being in bed most of the time she was home for Christmas, saying she was getting better. That she was just resting. Like Ana couldn’t see what was happening. Not even Tim would tell her the truth. They’d talked again about treatments and trials. Carl said it would all be fine, even though Connie was forgetting words and looking right through her.
They both told her she should focus on her skating, and Tim should focus on school, and they all needed to live their lives.
Still, before she’d left, she’d crawled into bed next to her mother and buried her face against her shoulder while she slept, a blue scarf around her head and dark, hollow circles under her eyes. And it was a horrible feeling because she knew they were all lying and there was nothing she could do. No one wanted her there. Not even her mother. “Go live your life.”
As if that life was no longer there, with them.
The silence of the locker room buzzed in her ears as these thoughts filled the space between them.
But before the tears could come, she heard someone around the corner, in the bathroom. Coughing. Or, puking, maybe.
She pulled off the skates and left them on the rubber mat.
“Hello?” she asked, walking to the partition. Then she peeked her head around.
No one answered. Then another cough. A gag. And then a cry.
She recognized the phone with the pink sequined case on the sink counter, then saw the closed door, then Jolene’s black leggings tucked into her white sneakers under the stall. She’d wondered why Jolene hadn’t been on the session, and why she hadn’t come back to Avery Hall to say goodbye to Indy.
Ana knocked. “Jo?”
“Ana,” she said, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t make it to the ice.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Ana’s blood surged with worry.
“Can you find Hugo?”
“I thought he wasn’t back.” As far as Ana knew, Hugo was still in Spain.
Jolene had been spinning fantasies about their romantic reunion since he’d left five weeks ago for the holidays. It cheered her up when she missed him, and that was pretty much all day, every day.
“He was supposed to get back last night,” Jo said. “But no one knows where he is, and he won’t answer his phone.”