Hunter

Being a spinning teapot is the highlight of my day!

Sit spins are tricky, though. I have to crouch on my haunches, one leg stretched out in front of me. If I tip my skating foot forward, the toe pick will dig into the ice, and it will brake me; if I lean back too far, I'll land on my butt. Getting out of the spin without toppling is also a challenge.

At least, it used to be.

When did it become so easy? When did sliding over the ice and leaning forward until I'm level while lifting one leg, extending it at hip height in what is called a spiral, become second nature to me? It used to be so hard, and now it's the least of the things I do as easily as breathing.

I'm not sure.

My mom warned me against the risk of seeking ever-increasingly challenging moves, pushing my body and its abilities to its limits. She told me to be careful of becoming a daredevil when the most difficult moves become too easy for me.

I guess I've arrived at that point. It came sooner than expected.

It's hard to remember her warnings when I'm out here on the ice, feeling the piano music broadcasting from the DJ Booth ripple through my very being. It is riling me up, cheering me on, driving me faster and faster into spins and jumps and twirls.

The piece I'm using for the ladies' single event of the competition is a bit short, so I've created a loop that blends together nicely to make it a little longer. So far, I'm loving it, but it might perhaps stir my blood a little too much.

https://youtu.be/3Azjp9D8lmQ

Bracing myself on my right leg, I lift my left foot and reaching behind me, I catch it, pulling my free leg above my head, using my momentum to go into a spin called the Biellmann spin.

Oh, yeah! I'm a twirling flamingo, baby!

Coming out of it, I lower my left foot to the heel of the right, gliding forward facing away from the circle edge I'm on; halfway through, I swivel my foot, shooting my left foot forward so that I can continue gliding, but I'm now moving backwards, after making a shape resembling a curly brace. It's a simple bracket turn, but it is so fun to do and the perfect transition to set me up for a backwards twizzle, a quick multi-rotational turn on one foot.

I love doing twizzles; they're so friggin' cheeky!

After doing many twizzles... because I can... I do another turn until I'm gliding forward again, and building up some speed, I lower my upper body towards the ice and jump, doing a scissor kick with my legs, my body almost parallel to the ice.

There is something very freeing about doing butterfly jumps. I can imagine myself breaking free from a cocoon and taking flight. I do a couple more, just for the hell of it, stroking the ice with the tips of my fingers in passing, enjoying the crispy cold burning my skin.

"How ya doing, Ice?!" I chuckle.

Yes! I've forgotten about my set routines and choreography for now and am having fun putting my body through its paces, trying new tricks and variations of classical moves that are definitely banned from competitions. My coach would catch a fit if she saw me now.

My mom would probably too...

Mom, because she loved me and was always worried about me getting hurt due to my inherent recklessness, as she called it. Coach, because she wants me to succeed, to become the next world champion or something. She is peeved that I insist on taking part in the district competition, especially the free dance part of it. According to her, it is a waste of time and an unnecessary detour that could impact our long-term goals.

Her long-term goals.

She's right. It's not a very prestigious competition. I've won far more important competitions, even in the paired dancing disciplines. This competition doesn't even have the normal rule where the dance category consists of two parts: a short rhythm dance followed by a free dance. We're allowed to choose and we are doing the free dance.

It's a competition that is important to all the skaters who found their start in Thermbarrow, the district where we live. Competition is fierce despite the lack of international or even national prestige.

I've tried to explain to her why I need to do this, and she might get it at some level, but she still sees me as a sentimental fool, risking my career for shits and giggles. Well, she didn't put it quite like that, but I got her meaning.

I don't care. I need to do the free dance in the Thermbarrow Championships... and maybe even win it. I told her that I would be happy to find another coach if she wouldn't let me do this. Yeah, I acted like a brat; I'm not proud of it. I called her bluff, and it turns out that she needs me as much as I need her, perhaps even more.

Sure, there are plenty of strong skaters who would give their front teeth to have her as their coach, and I am grateful that she picked me, but there are reasons why she did that. She'd told me stuff about my raw talent and potential and how, using me, she could make her dreams come true.

I can't remember all of it because she used the front teeth thing to tell me how lucky I was to have her, and I was wondering if she would be kind enough to take my front teeth anyway since I hate them.

My braces came off last year, but I still have a bit of an overbite, and for some reason, the dentist, my dad, and the minister of teeth affairs all refused to give me braces to pull my front teeth back now that they're nice and straight and not all over the place anymore. They say it gives me the cutest smile.

They are all full of it! One day, I'm just going to make my own braces to pull them back. I'll use baling wire and rubber bands if I have to. I told my dad, and he just laughed.

Golly!

I suppose I can understand why Cordelia doesn't really understand why I so desperately need to take part in this specific minor championship. She thinks it is just because my mom was training Robbie and me for it, and we didn't get to finish our mission.

It was two years ago, and we've progressed to more important championships since then. She's constantly telling me not to see it as a goal I never completed because I have done so in other competitions. That is true.

What I haven't told her, because she has the romantic inclinations of a swamp frog, is that 20 years ago, my parents fell in love during the Thermbarrow Championships.

Mom grew up in Snowglen and met my dad when he was one of the first recruits at the Cristalcrest Ice Hockey Academy. The academy had been going for about five years at the time of the big event and was just starting to produce champions and claim its reputation as the best ice hockey farm.

Dad fell in love with her on sight (so he says), and she was playing hard to get (also his words). After pursuing her all the years he was at the academy in training, she finally told him that she would consider dating him if he agreed to compete in the Thermbarrow Championships with her in the ice dancing discipline.

There weren't many male figure skaters around here back then because the figure skating academy didn't exist yet. She was desperate for a partner and my dad was good on skates. He still is, though he hasn't spent much time skating since my mom passed away.

He was desperate for a chance at her heart and agreed, though he was a puck pusher through and through and knew diddly squat about figure skating.

Mom fell in love with him during their secret training sessions... she admitted to me that she had a bit of a crush on him all the time she knew him, but didn't know if she could trust him with her heart. They won the competition, and he proposed to her right there on the ice at the end of their performance.

So cringy! I love it!

Two years later, I was born, and five years later, Dad decided that his ice hockey days were over; his dreams had changed. He'd seen through the years of being a pro player how many young men simply don't get a chance to show their worth because of financial issues and decided to do something about it.

He came back to Thermbarrow, built the Ice Arena and set up the boarding house. It improved conditions for the academy, which wasn't quite as big yet as it is today. They had one dingy rink, and the cost of running and maintaining it was draining their resources. Renting from my dad and being able to focus solely on training their recruits gave them the last bit of push into the big leagues.

My mom started the figure skating academy, using the arena as her base. It is called Snowglen Figure Skating Academy because she used the old skating rink in Snowglen while the arena was being built. Robbie was one of her prize students, and she was training us to take part in the Thermbarrow Championships when she died in a car accident. I will never feel complete until I fulfil our shared goal, even if it is no longer relevant to my career as a pro skater.

I know that Robbie feels it too, to some extent.

My mom accepted him into the academy and gave him a chance when he was a troubled, abused child placed in a foster home in Shivermore to keep him safe. He had no funds. 

He misses my mom as much as I do. Two years ago, we didn't take part in the competition as planned; we were all devastated by her death. I know he feels guilty about our second chance being ruined as well.

I've told him a gazillion times that falls happen; it's just unfortunate that we landed wrong and got hurt. He still blames himself because it was his broken shoelace that caused it. Sure, we should've called it a day earlier, we were both over-tired after driving ourselves too hard and didn't notice the shoelace issue, but still, it was an accident.

I was able to compete in the singles, though it was no fun with a sprained wrist throbbing in the cold. I couldn't take painkillers and then perform. The joy of being on the ice was my painkiller, and it went well. I felt bad for Robbie. He had to be operated on to straighten out the broken bones in his hand and was in too much pain to compete at all for a few weeks.

Here we are again now; our third chance, perhaps our last chance, because next year we'll be full-on busy working towards making it to the Olympics. There won't be any time for side quests. I can tell that the need to do this has waned for Robbie over the last year. He still wants it, but he won't be devastated if we miss it again. His guilt about last year has ebbed away too.

He is already living the dream my mom had for him. He doesn't have to go on any detours with me, but he will.

I need this, with or without Robbie.

It doesn't really matter who I do the dance with since there will be no falling in love with Robbie... ever. I like him well enough, and I care about him. Skating with him is exhilarating, but we do not connect on an emotional level at all. Not any more. We were close once, but we drifted apart in all the ways that matter in a relationship.

We're barely even friends now.

I simply need to do this in remembrance of the love story that led to my existence. My dad will never say it - he never puts pressure on me - but he needs it too.

Picking up speed, I leap into a split jump with a twist, giggling happily at the rush of flying. I don't need drugs to get high. I simply have to step on the ice, and I'm there.

This is what I was born to do.

To be honest, I don't care about having an audience or taking part in competitions. Sure, it is rewarding to win prizes and have people enjoy the performance, but I would be just as happy doing all my skating on the lake between Snowglen and Cristalcrest and never being seen by a soul.

I prefer skating here in the ice rink only because out at the lake, the snow gets in the way, and at certain times of the year, the ice could crack, and I could fall in. Also, the wind can be a marrow-cutting blade.

On good days, I love being out there on that slab of ice that seems to have no end.

I like the way this new outfit moves with me. Bren knows how to pick the very best quality items to sell, which is why the figure skating academy uses her services to get what they need for their teams.

I squat down into another sit spin, leaning over to grab hold of my extended leg and push myself up, using my thigh and calf, until I'm in an upright, standing spin with my leg held tightly against my cheek in the I-spin position.

Catching movement near the barrier, I slow the spin, lowering my leg, and when I recognise Robbie stepping onto the ice, I skate over to him.

"You're still here!" I call out, surprised. He'd been practising on the ice hockey rink since the place cleared of people. I thought I was alone at the arena now. "Have you forgotten about the blizzard warning? You won't make it to Shivermore in time," I tell him, concerned that he hasn't left yet. "You might already be too late to make it home."

"I don't care," he grumbles. "I need to log the hours."

"Robbie, there are more important things than logging skating hours."

"For you maybe, Fairlane," he snaps, glaring at me with flinty eyes the colour of ice. Frigid blue.

These last two months, he's been acting more and more irritated all the time. He told me once it's because his injured hand bothers him. It's completely healed, but he feels it, a constantly nagging pain that doesn't want to quit. He'd been for scans, but they couldn't find anything wrong. It functions perfectly; it just hurts. 

"I was... sick for three days this week; I need the hours," he explains, fussing with the cuffs of his sweater's sleeves.

The figure skating academy has strict rules about the number of hours students are supposed to practice. He could lose certain privileges or be blocked from competing in competitions if he doesn't have adequate hours. It's true; he has been off sick a lot this last month. There was a flu virus going round and round, laying students low. Still...

"Your health is more important than skating hours, and getting caught in a blizzard is-"

"I'm doing the hours," he tells me, skating past me to the centre of the rink. "Are you going to help me or get in my way?"

"I'll never get in your way," I assure him. "You can stay over at the house."

"Thanks, I'll sleep here in the refuge."

"Don't be an ass." More than usual...

I'm not sure I want to skate with him when he is in a foul mood because I'm literally placing my life in his hands, and when he's like this, I'm not even sure I know who he is. On the other hand, skating usually puts him in a much better mood.

I used to love skating with Robbie.

He has a way of moving on the ice that makes it seem effortless. His jumps are powerful, and he has great speed. His boyish charm hardened over the last two years, turning into arrogance and yikes, can he be bossy at times! Being with him is not as much fun as it used to be.

When he's skating with me, our bodies moving together in ways that are intimate in how dependent they are on each other for success, I almost fall in love with him. Almost. I come back to earth the moment he opens his mouth and says something obnoxious, making me want to kick his butt.

I would be in love with Robbie if all we ever did was skate.

Following him to our marks, I use the remote tucked into the sassy little pocket the leggings have under the skirt to change the music to the song we're using for our dance. When we're both ready, I hit start and shove the remote back into the small pocket.

Taemin's song, Guilty, bursts over the sound system, and just like that, I forget about Robbie's ever-increasing mood swings. I forget about how much I miss my mother and wish that she were here to train us and finally see me competing in the competition that meant so much to her and relive one of her happiest moments.

https://youtu.be/1yGBvoe8zJ8

It's just the music, me and Robbie flowing through the moves I've choreographed, and soon, I'm giggling happily, enjoying the high-speed chases and gravity-defying dips and dives, jumps and twirls.

Robbie's hands are as steady and strong as they've ever been; I can tell that he is feeling better now. He even grins at me every now and then. He was born to be on the ice, just like me. Here, moving together, we are friends again. Two kids living for the joy of gliding over pristine ice... just like old times.

We have a lot of kinks to iron out before we'll be ready for the championship. I used most of the moves my mom had planned for us, but to keep up with the times and our progress in skill, I've added difficulty to the program, making it more entertaining. I chose this song because it inspires me to soar; I can feel the rhythm and melody in my very bones.

My mom would've loved it! She also used to feel music rather than just hearing it.

Every now and then, when I reach for Robbie's hand, it's not quite in place yet. He might be tired. He is usually much more accurate in his calculations. He has a natural feel for timing, which is part of the reason I love skating with him so much.

No biggy!

I just need to keep my head straight and focus double as much, making sure I grab at the right moment and not too soon. Act on what I see rather than what I feel. He is not out by much, a fraction of a second here and there. If I lose focus, it could be a problem, though.

Whisking past the barrier, I spot Jax with someone, and when I change direction, skating backwards to the centre of the ring, I take a moment to look at his companion.

Is that the new guy?

All I can make out at this speed is dark hair glowing in an auburn halo, like red wine with the sun shining through it. Stunning! I cannot make out his face, but he seems to be built rather well.

Yummy!

Well, guys with yummy builds are part of the decor here at the arena and I cannot be checking out the new guy now. I need to focus; there's that split-second timing issue hanging around like a snake waiting to bite if I don't look out.

I reach the centre and go into a standing spin, holding onto one of my legs, waiting for Robbie to reach me from the other side of the ring and grab me for some fast progressives, chasses and swing rolls around the rink. For some reason, I feel nervous knowing we are being watched, which is ridiculous. I'm used to people watching me skate or even being on the ice doing their own thing while I manoeuvre my way around them.

To be honest, waiting to meet a new housemate always makes me a little nervous. It's like opening a strange, brown-paper-wrapped package found on the doorstep. Is it a bomb? Is it my new Bluetooth headset?

The guy could be anybody. He could be sweet and decent like Kame or a slightly pervy, adorable doofus like Denny. He could also be trouble on legs like a few of the guys who have blown through our lives in the past.

My father believes in giving people a fair chance, and now and then, his goodness runs away from him a bit, though he's never brought someone truly terrible into our lives.

Still, that hair is just gorgeous in the bright lights of the ice rink! I'm willing to forgive many shortcomings if I get to look at that hair a lot. I would love to stop skating and say hello, but that would be playing with my medical plan, as Robbie will blow a gasket, destroying the ice and causing us to fall.

I almost miss grabbing him when he's late again, and I'm too focused on trying to see some details of the guys at the barrier to realise that he's not where I expect him to be.

Head out of the auburn hair and into the game, Hunter Fairlane!

I wonder if he has a temper. Redheads are supposed to have tempers, right? Probably because people are always messing with them, telling them they have tempers. Besides, I wouldn't call his hair red exactly.

I wish I had red hair, though. Mine couldn't decide wether it wanted to be red or brown and got stuck somewhere in the middle. So indecisive... or just fickle. Maybe I should colour it red.

I suck in a startled breath as I get ready for a lift a split second before Robbie is where he's supposed to be, and I almost lose my footing. Clenching my teeth, I put the pretty hair out of my mind - his, not mine - and bend my body backwards over Robbie's shoulder. I work my legs over to land behind him, one foot on the ice, the other extended behind me, and he immediately grabs my hand, leading me into a death spiral, where I skate on a deep edge with my body close to the ice, in a circle around him, while he pivots, holding onto my arm.

"Wheeeeeeee!"

I often do this with the little ones outside, in the garden, holding both their hands and spinning them so they can fly with both feet off the ground. Okay, this is probably nothing like that, but I'm sure they feel the same exhilaration. They definitely go wheeeee too.

When I'm back on my feet, once again gliding in sync with Robbie, I'm relieved and disappointed to see the two guys leaving the figure skating rink. Curiosity is one of my biggest flaws and I'm dying to see who my dad brought into our lives this time.

Half an hour later, I finally call it a day when I fail to compensate for the required hand not being there and lose my balance. It takes some nifty footwork to turn my fall into a slide, barely keeping it from becoming a skid into the dasher boards.

That was one time too many tonight! I've had enough!

~~~