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“You’re not leaving the ice on the correct edge.” Her words were clipped and she half glared at me. “Do it again.”
My parents had me working with Sasha since I was a young girl and she had not gotten any easier on me over the years. If anything, she had only gotten harder. She expected and demanded greatness and nothing less.
I loved figure skating, but there were times I didn't. This was one of those times. We had been working on the same jump for months and if it wasn’t one thing, it was another that I was doing wrong. Even when I landed it, it wasn’t perfect.
It needed to be perfect.
I moved my feet, using the muscles in my legs to glide across the ice. Sasha stood over by the boards and nodded as my gaze met hers. I began to move again, practicing the same sequence that was burned into my mind as I attempted the double Axel again. And again. And again…
After landing it a few times, Sasha was a little pleased, but even that was a stretch. I managed to lift off the correct edge but it wasn’t perfect. My legs were burning by the time my lesson was over and as I walked out of the ice rink, they felt like they were Jell-O.
Sasha waited for me by the door and we stepped out into the warm evening air as we walked into the parking lot. Her car was parked a few spots from mine and we stopped by my trunk as I put my skate bag inside.
“They are having freestyle ice tomorrow morning at six,” she reminded me with her curt tone. “I expect to see you here.”
My jaw clenched and I nodded as I forced a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Sasha stared at me for a moment as she scrutinized me with her gaze. “Very well. I suggest you go home and get some rest.”
I nodded again and Sasha left me without another word. As I climbed into my car, I couldn’t help but feel like a deflated balloon. I had a competition coming next month and that was what we were ultimately trying to prepare for, but there was no way I could include a double Axel in my routine. Even if I nailed it, it wouldn’t be enough time to incorporate and perfect it.
My parents were a little more lax when it came to demanding excellence. I always had good grades and was a model student, so that was more than enough for me. It was almost as if they had paid Sasha to be the bad guy so they didn’t have to be the ones who were pushing me.
My sister Sutton was the one who got the brunt of their demanding nature for her to be the absolute best. Sutton was also more immersed in their life. She golfed and rode horses, just like both of our parents. What she was doing wasn’t more important, but there was a shift in the pressure between us.
My parents liked being able to tell their friends that I was a figure skater, but it didn’t compare to Sutton. She golfed and competed in her horse shows against other girls whose parents were in the same circle as our parents. There was more of a tie between their worlds and they mixed into one.
I had the pressure of fighting for visibility. I had only turned eighteen two months ago, yet it felt like they were already forgetting I was still their child. I wanted to be the best that I could be in hopes that maybe then I would get some of my parents’ attention rather than all of it going to Sutton.
The sun had already dipped below the horizon and the moon was hanging in the sky above. The drive home was quiet and I pushed everything out of my mind as I drove on autopilot. When I got inside my house, my sister was already in her room, as were my parents. No one was around to greet me. I had missed dinner and my mother left a plate for me in the fridge with a note.
I didn’t bother reading it before I crumpled it up and threw it into the trash. It used to bother me when I would have late nights like this. Sometimes my sister would wait up for me, but she was just here on a short break before she had to head back to college. She had a lot of work she was doing, so I didn’t blame her.
It used to hurt worse when I noticed my parents’ absence. My mother used to wait with her or she would be sitting in the sitting room reading as she waited for me to get home so we could talk about all the things. She hadn’t waited for me in over a month now and if she did, it was completely random and sporadic.
My feet ached and my thighs were on fire as I slid my food into the microwave and waited for it to warm up. I picked at a stray thread that hung from the bottom of my sweatshirt before grabbing my plate and heading to my room.
My mother frowned upon food in our bedrooms, but how the hell would she know? That meant she would have to actually pay attention to me. Using my free hand, I turned the doorknob and slipped inside my room. As I shut the door behind me, my breath escaped me in a rush when I saw Kai sitting on the edge of my bed.
I paused for a moment by the door. He caught me off guard and by surprise. I wasn’t expecting him to be here. He usually didn’t come over until much later in the night when everyone was usually asleep.
He was leaning forward with his forearms resting against his knees. His gaze was cast down at the floor beneath his feet. His chin was tucked to his chest and his hood was pulled up over his head. My room was dark with only the soft glow from my night-light. I couldn’t make out his face in the darkness, but I could see his hands that were fisted together in front of him.
“Kai?” I whispered as I chanced a step deeper into the room. “What are you doing here? My parents are still awake and they might find you here.”
His shoulders sagged and he slowly lifted his head up. His gaze crashed into mine and the soft light illuminated his face. A gasp escaped me as I took in his appearance. My hand shook and I almost dropped the plate I was holding. My heart split in two as I saw the dried blood under his nose and the deep purple bruise developing underneath his eye.
“Kai,” I said softly, my voice cracking around his name. His eyes pierced mine and his jaw was tight. I set my plate down on my dresser and dropped onto my knees in front of him.
As I took his hands in mine, I noticed the jagged cuts coated with dried blood across his knuckles. I bit down on my bottom lip as the pain that was radiating from him slipped inside the crevices of my mind. This wasn't the first time he had come to me like this.
And I knew it wouldn’t be the last time.
I lifted my gaze back to his and his eyes were trained on mine. I couldn’t read them at all and I hated it so much. I scanned his face as I hesitantly lifted a hand to cup his cheek. A sigh escaped him and he leaned the weight of his head against my hand as if it were too much for him to hold up on his own anymore.
There was a cut just across his eyebrow that was still wet with blood. I didn’t know how the hell he managed to get that there and a part of me didn’t want to know. I knew things could easily get ugly with his father, but I only knew the extent of what he came to me with. I didn’t know the full horrors he endured with Winston.
My parents may have been more concerned with my sister and what she was doing, but they would have never laid a finger on me.
