Authors: Jennifer Comeaux
Em walked with us through the dim backstage corridor to the entrance to the brightly lit rink. Sergei was already out there with Stephanie and Josh, who’d just finished skating according to the applause. I shed my navy Team USA jacket and handed it to Em, and I rubbed my bare arms to stay warm. My sparkly black dress only had thin straps over my shoulders. Mark matched me color-wise with black pants and a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up.
I bounced on the heels of my skate guards as we marched out under the lights. The arena wasn’t large, and the seats weren’t close to being filled. Pairs hadn’t been a marquee event since Em and Chris had retired. The ladies would bring in a much bigger crowd the next day.
Stephanie and Josh exited the ice, and I watched their body language for a hint of how they’d skated, but they both wore poker faces. Mark nudged me from behind, and I hurriedly removed my skate guards and stepped onto the ice, glancing back at the boards. Sergei smiled as he hugged Stephanie, and a twinge of jealousy twisted my stomach. It was still bizarre seeing Em and Sergei with Stephanie and Josh, giving them the same hugs and nods of approval. Mark and I needed to perform better than they had. We had to show Em and Sergei who the top team in our camp was.
I circled the ice, lightly pumping my legs to warm up, and Mark skated to my side as the announcer read Stephanie and Josh’s score. The new judging system had been in place long enough where I knew what the numbers meant, and their score was one of the best they’d ever received for the short. An extra kick of adrenaline made my legs move faster.
Mark took my hand and pressed hard. “Ready to show them who’s boss?”
It was uncanny how after nine years of skating together, our thoughts on the ice often echoed one another. His use of the word “boss” brought another thought to mind, though — one of Josh kissing me passionately as we lay beside the fire.
I rattled my head. Now was not the time to think about such things. Now was the time to put all my emotion into skating a fierce tango. Em and Sergei smiled at us from behind the boards, and we took matching deep breaths, preparing for our introduction from the PA announcer.
“They represent the United States. Ladies and gentlemen, Courtney Carlton and Mark Phillips.”
We glided to center ice amid warm applause and assumed our starting pose of the traditional tango hold. With Mark’s head bent close to mine, I whispered, “Let’s do this,” more as a reminder to myself than to him.
The sharp beats of Tanghetto’s “Enjoy the Silence” began, and we moved across the ice still in dance hold. When we reached the boards we broke apart and switched to side-by-side stroking, building up speed for the triple twist. The cold air blew across my face, but not a hair strayed from my perfectly pinned bun.
We flew backward into the entrance to the twist, and I stabbed my toe pick into the ice. Mark tossed me up into the air, and all my muscles tightened as I spun three times above his head. After the final rotation, I opened up and fell into Mark’s waiting hands for a smooth set down.
One element done
—
check.
We twirled around and quickly transitioned into our footwork sequence, where we hit all the steps sharply, further deepening the tango mood. The tension of the steps heightened the adrenaline coursing through me, and I felt ready to burst as we approached the side-by-side triple Salchows.
Calm yourself. Free and easy into the jump.
We pushed off on identical back inside edges and completed three rotations. Mark was a blur next to me until my right foot hit the ice for the landing, and I saw him do the same at that precise moment. Perfect unison, perfect execution. I internally pumped my fist. The Salchows had been known to abandon us at the most unfortunate moments.
We attacked the second half of the program with the same intensity, and we came out of our death spiral and struck our ending pose right on the final beat of the music. Mark looked for another high-five, and I smacked his hands even harder that time.
As we hugged, I caught sight of Josh and Stephanie sitting in the kiss and cry. They’d stayed there to watch us skate. Josh was clapping, but Stephanie just glared at us. They departed backstage as Mark and I arrived at the boards and exchanged hugs with Em and Sergei.
“That was so strong, guys.” Em squeezed my shoulders.
“Everything felt really crisp,” I said as we took seats on the bench in the kiss and cry. “We never let the tango feeling drop for a second.”
“The timing on the lift was better than Paris, too,” Sergei said.
We always sat in the same order to wait for our score — Em, Mark, me, then Sergei. Em reached across Mark to hand me my water bottle, and I took a long swig. How would the judges score us compared to Stephanie and Josh? Our program component scores, similar to the old “artistic” mark, had always been about the same, but we’d usually beaten them on the technical score. Now that their technical ability had improved, how would the numbers shake out?
“The score please for Courtney Carlton and Mark Phillips,” the announcer said and paused. “The short program score…”
Another pause ate at my nerves. I clutched Mark’s knee, and he put his hand on top of mine.
The announcer read the total, and I nodded with excitement as the details of the technical and program component marks flashed on the video screen. We’d earned our personal best short program score.
The standings appeared on the screen, and our names showed above Stephanie and Josh’s. My head bobbed with even more vigor, but then I peered closer at the numbers and did the quick math. Only an eighth of a point separated us. We were virtually tied going into the free skate the next night.
The next group of teams crowded around the ice door for their six-minute warm-up, so we escaped backstage. We turned the corner to meet the media, and I overhead Stephanie speaking to a reporter.
“Our number one goal is to make the Olympic team, and we’re in the perfect position to do that. We’re skating the best we ever have.”
They sure were. It was starting to hit me just how much of a battle nationals was going to be. And it made me feel a little sick to my stomach.
We had to give sound bites next, so we stood behind Stephanie and Josh to wait our turn. When they finished, we came face-to-face, and Stephanie lifted her chin and moved past us, nothing said. She’d apparently decided to drop her friendly act from the previous day.
“Great job,” Josh said.
Mark was standing next to me, but Josh looked only at me. His electric blue shirt made his eyes pop even more brilliantly.
Damn, the competition should not look this good.
“You, too,” I said.
Mark placed his hand on my back and steered me in front of the reporter. We answered question after question from each media outlet, most about how we got along with our new training mates (“Great” was our standard vanilla answer). Our final interview found us next to Stephanie and Josh again, and we both concluded at the same time. We all walked in awkward silence toward the locker rooms, stopping to see the final standings on the monitor. We’d finished in fourth and fifth places, which I’d expected, but happily the two-time national champions were a mere one point ahead of Mark and me in third.
Stephanie pivoted and blocked my path, and when I tried to go around her she stepped in my way.
“It was a great competition, don’t you think?” she said.
What is
her angle now?
Josh and Mark both watched us warily, likely wondering the same thing.
“Yes. Yes, it was.”
She folded her arms over her jacket. “So, are you and Josh going to have a private celebration later like you did last weekend on Martha’s Vineyard?”
My body went numb, while my brain fought to think quickly. It didn’t succeed as all I could utter was, “What?”
“I went to the Vineyard with friends,” Josh said.
“Oh, cut the crap. The only friend you have is Courtney. Or should I say
girlfriend
?” Stephanie practically spat at me.
“What the hell is she talking about?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know what you think you know…” Josh said with less conviction.
“I’ve seen all the texts and the pictures, including your cute little matching Halloween costumes.”
Oh my God.
Josh’s jaw clenched. “How did you get on my phone? It’s always locked.”
“It wasn’t hard for me to sneak a peek when you were punching in the password once. Then all I had to do was wait until you were in the shower to grab it.”
“You had no right to do that.”
“I had every right when you’ve been lying to my face every day!”
“Court, you’d better start talking right now.” Mark fumed.
I was still too overcome to speak. Stephanie had read our texts. Our private, heartfelt words. Since Josh and I hardly saw each other alone, we’d been relying on our phones to stay connected. To share our feelings. My stomach turned at the thought of Stephanie seeing all of it.
“Your partner’s waiting for an explanation.” Stephanie waved her hand at me. “Go on.”
Anger rose in my throat, tightening and burning. She’d calculated this, waited until we were in the middle of the competition to drop this bomb.
“I’m not going to talk about this here or in front of you,” I said.
Mark took my elbow. “We’re gonna talk about it
somewhere
.”
“What’s going on?” Em asked as she and Sergei entered our circle of intensity.
“Ask Courtney and Josh,” Stephanie said. “They’re the ones who’ve been sneaking around together and lying to all of us.”
Em glanced from me to Josh and back again, but she didn’t look shocked. With her pursed lips she looked more annoyed.
Sergei stepped forward. “You all need to get changed and get on the bus. We’ll deal with this at the hotel.”
Other skaters and coaches watched us with curious looks as everyone in our group appeared on the verge of exploding. We slowly dispersed, and Josh slid next to me. His eyes were still dark with fury.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Court, let’s go.” Em pointed me to the ladies’ locker room.
Josh and I parted, and I blew past Stephanie to get to my bags. The night had started off so promising, and now it was all shot to hell. Mark wanted to strangle me, and who knew what Em and Sergei had to say. I’d never been a violent person, but visions of punching Stephanie’s snotty face played over and over in my mind.
Chapter Seventeen
Em and Sergei were waiting for us in the hotel lobby. None of us had spoken a word on the short ride down Main Street.
“Stephanie, Josh, let’s get a table in the restaurant.” Sergei motioned for them to follow him.
“Our mom is waiting to have dinner with us,” Stephanie said.
“You can let her know you’re having a meeting,” Sergei said tersely.
Stephanie moved a step slower than Josh but dutifully trailed after Sergei. That left Mark and me with Em, and I guessed she and Sergei were tag-teaming us.
“I have to check on the twins,” she said as she unbuttoned her coat. “Can you get a table for us? On the opposite side of the restaurant please.”
Mark and I followed her orders and slid into a booth near the back of the room. The place had a cozy lodge ambiance with its light-colored wood and burning fireplace, but I wasn’t feeling very cozy with Mark glaring at me. I knew my parents would be looking for me, so I texted Mom that I’d see them in the morning. I had no idea how long this was going to take.
“Are you texting
him
?” Mark asked.
“I’m texting my mom,” I said and tossed the phone into my purse.
He stared at me for a long minute. “What the hell, Court? We’ve been partners half our lives, and you betray that for some guy?”
“I’m not betraying our partnership.”
“You’re dating our biggest competition. You don’t think that’s a problem?”
The waitress came to the table, and Mark told her we needed a few minutes. She seemed happy to leave after spying the intense looks we were giving each other.
“If my dating Josh was a problem, we wouldn’t have gotten our best ever score tonight,” I said.
“That was just one short program. What’s gonna happen at nationals when the Olympic team is on the line? Will you be okay with beating Josh? Crushing his dream? Because that’s what you’ll have to do.”
“We can both make the team. No one has to have their dream crushed.”
I sounded like one of Em’s rah-rah Team Cape Cod speeches.
“And that’s the problem right there.” Mark smacked his hand on the table. “You shouldn’t care what happens to anyone else. You should only be concerned with how you and I are going to get on the team.”
“I’m not saying I’m concerned with both of us making it. I’m just…” I held my head in my hands. “You’re twisting my words.”
“I don’t think I am.”
“What do I have to do to prove I’m still just as focused on our partnership and our goals?” I saw his mouth open for an immediate comeback, and I hastily added, “Besides breaking up with Josh.”
“Why do you want to date him anyway? Isn’t he moving back to California?”
Thanks for the reminder.
It wasn’t as if that didn’t weigh on my mind every day.
“We have some things to figure out, but—”
“Is it really worth getting involved with him when it might be over in a few months?”
The knife twisted deeper into my gut, hitting all my biggest fears about our relationship. I slapped open my menu and pretended to read.
“We don’t know what’s going to happen,” I said quietly.
Em marched up to the booth and made me scoot over so she could slide onto my side. “Have you ordered yet?”
“I’m not really hungry.” I shut the menu.
She reopened it. “You have to eat.”
“See, now you’re not taking care of yourself,” Mark said. “And you say this isn’t a problem.”
“I wouldn’t be feeling sick if you weren’t ragging all over me,” I barked.
He leaned forward. “I’m just trying to tell you—”