Leaving Tracks (16 page)

It looked like ballet and jazz dance on ice. She didn’t jump,
I didn’t think she could jump, but even without it, there was no denying the skills in her every move. I almost wished I could have seen her skate before the accident. If this was so masterfully skilled, what had she really been like before?

It didn’t look like she was skating in any kind of routine. She just moved with the music in an easy, relaxed pace with fluidity
that I realized I lacked completely.

It made her beautiful. She was beautiful anyway,
but this seemed to shout beauty and grace in a way I hadn’t recognized before. As she moved over frozen water with her eyes closed and did naturally what any other person would have to work at, my stomach cramped and my hands tingled.

I
wanted to go out there and skate with her. I wanted to hold her close and feel her pleasure in the movements, not just watch. I just wanted and wasn’t comfortable at all with the feeling. And, I doubted Hadley would welcome my intrusion on her privacy. There was a reason, after all, that she skated alone in the dark of the night.

I
stood up slowly with the intent to walk out and leave her with her privacy when her eyes opened and pinned me in place. “I’m sorry.” I stuttered and felt like a fool when I realized the music was too loud and she was too far away to hear my words.

I
walked to the wall and watched her slowly skate over. “I’m sorry.” I said again when she was in range. “I didn’t know…”

“It’s alright,” she didn’t look angry. Instead
, she looked more tired than anything else. “I gave you freedom to come and go here; I expected someone to see sooner or later.”

“It’s beautiful.”
I said because I really had no other word to use. I felt like a moron. I’d been training with her for weeks and seeing her skate had rendered me an idiot.

“It’s not the same.”

“Do you want it to be?” I asked quietly watching the sorrow and pain that hadn’t been there while she was skating flicker across her face.

“Sometimes I want it more than breathing and it hurts so badly that all I can do is curl up and wait for the pain to disappear.” She answered without looking at
me. She was looking across the rink, at least her face was turned that way, but her eyes were looking someplace far away.

“And other times?”

“I hate it.” She whispered, “It destroyed me and I can’t stand it. Can’t stand to be around it; can’t stand to hear the music or be in this place.”

“What do you do on those days?”

“Smile,” Hadley’s eyes returned to mine and I saw the glimmer of a tear streak down one cheek, “and pretend I don’t feel anything.”

I
sat in
the passenger seat drumming my fingers against my thigh while staring out the window. I imagined I was probably a poor travel companion, but it felt necessary to accompany North on this trip. He was testing after all and I was coach.

“You didn’t have to come.” North said glancing at
me from the corner of his eye.

“I’m fine,”
I said quickly, too quickly. I sighed and started again. “It would look poorly if I didn’t come along. And keep your eyes on the road.”

I
had spent a great deal of time over the last week chewing on it. It was entirely possible I’d be ridiculed or scoffed at in the center. It was entirely possible I’d be laughed at outright. But the test wasn’t about me, or at least not directly. It was about what North had learned in four weeks. I kept that in the front of my mind, as we grew closer to Fergus Falls.

“Remember to take the jump even if you don’t land it properly,”
I reminded when he pulled into the parking lot. “The point is…”

“I know how to do it. Not that I do it well.” North finished for
me and reached over to squeeze me hand. “It’s okay, Hadley. We’ll be okay.”

“Yes.”
I squeezed his hand lightly and stepped out of the truck. He’d been doing more of that recently, I realized. Just touching. I wasn’t sure if it was to reassure him, or me. I wasn’t sure if he even realized he was doing it.

I
was pragmatically dressed for the outing in jeans, work boots, and my coach’s jacket but it was still bitter cold to me. The wind caught my ponytail and whipped it for the moment it took for me to get inside. I was finding I liked winter in Minnesota less and less.

Inside
, North walked with me over to where the testing judges were still setting up for the day. It was early enough that we could be one of the first on the ice and hopefully one of the first to head home. Not that I was a recluse or anything but the weatherman said eight to eighteen inches of snow starting in the afternoon depending on location. I didn’t want to drive in that and I didn’t want North driving in that.

“Mary, Sam,” North began getting the attention of the couple that was bickering on the pencil sharpness. Both stopped when he said their names and looked up at him.

“North. I see you’re set up for your junior free skate today.” Mary gave him a broad smile and looked over his shoulder at me. “And who is this?”

He stepped aside so
I could step forward, “This is Hadley Becke, my coach.”

Her lips bowed up but
I wouldn’t call it a smile. “Welcome to Fergus Falls.”

“Thank you,”
I hated the stiffness in my tone but couldn’t quell it. I looked at North, “You should get ready.”

He nodded. “Al
l right.” He walked away leaving me with Mary and Sam.

My
back was ridged when I turned to face the two people eyeing me like a lab experiment.

“I must admit I was surprised when North called and asked when the next tests were being administered,” Sam began and took his spectacles off to clean them with a corner of his shirt. “Without a coach we all knew he’d never be able to take his
junior test.”

“He’s been very cooperative in learning thus far. Where can I stand and be out of the way but close at hand?”
I asked, hating the small talk as much as I hated my skating rink on certain days.

Mary gestured, “
Coaches go over there.”

“Thank you.”
I stiffly and without limping, I wouldn’t give them that, walked to where Mary gestured. Unfortunately, there were two other coaches albeit with skaters on the ice standing in the little area.

“Hi!”

I smiled nervously at the woman greeting me. She was taller than I, which was no hard feat for anyone. Her sunny smile matched her hair and her mismatch colored eyes seemed genuinely friendly.

“Hello.”
I returned.

“I’m Denise. Denise
Harbored. I coach here in Fergus Falls.” She held out her hand expectantly.

“Hadley Becke. I’m coaching from my arena at home for the time being.”
I shook and let my hand fall.

“I’ve heard that name before.” The other coach, a tall, very tall, older man focused his eyes on
me. “Connor Postern.” He said shaking my hand.

“I won first in Regionals a few years ago, and second in Sectionals that same year.”
I offered hoping the local information would be enough.

He seemed satisfied with the knowledge because he nodded. “I remember those. Maggie,” he gestured to the ice, “was skating as a
Junior at the time. We’re taking Senior tests today. You skated as a Senior didn’t you?”

“Yes.”
I answered, “She skated to Swan Lake didn’t she?”

He nodded again. “Yup
, at her insistence. You always had obscure music, if I recall.”

“I enjoy being unique in all practices.”
I answered and turned to the ice when North came onto it to warm up.

He circled once, stretching his legs than skated over to
me. “Well?”

I
studied him a moment. His hair was tousled but that seemed to happen the moment he stepped onto the ice. His black pants were expected, the red pirate’s shirt was tucked into his pants to show off the over wide brown belt. Simple and yet effective. I had done his eyeliner before we’d even left the rink and it was a little smudged now but only added the effect.

“Good,”
I said. “Remember…”

He flashed
me a wicked smile. “How can I forget with you drilling it into my head every waking second?”

“It’s not every waking second, and your mind is like a sieve.
I must continually pour for knowledge to remain,” I smiled back because he needed it though it was forced. “Relax, have fun.”

He saluted and skated off to finish warming up.

“Interesting coaching,” Denise commented.

“I lectured him on the drive up,”
I murmured watching North progress across the ice. “If he doesn’t know by now, it’s not going to help in a few minutes.” I waved him over after watching his practice stretches.

“Yes?”

“You’re stiff?” I made it a question in case my eyes were off.

“Nervous.” He muttered not meeting
my eyes.

“You’re not competing against anyone but yourself,”
I told him. “All these other people don’t really matter. What matters is will you be satisfied with your performance when you’re done? Don’t worry about them. Worry about doing your best and being better than your best was yesterday.”

“And you,” North glanced at
me. “I’ve got to worry about you.”

I
shook my head. “Nope. Not even me. I’m not out there, this isn’t a pairs test. This is between you, the ice, and the music.”

He exhaled shakily and nodded. “Al
l right.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen him nervous before,” Connor said to
me. “I think that’s a good thing. If you’re not nervous a little, something’s wrong. It doesn’t matter as much.”

I
nodded my agreement without taking my eyes off North. “It also means skating isn’t fun anymore if you’re not a little excited and nervous.”

“Very true.” Denise
agreed and the three of us stood in companionable silence as the tests began.

North shifted in his seat again.
I hadn’t spoken since before his test. He passed, which he’d been worried he wouldn’t but he had. It wasn’t the pass or fail that bothered me but I needed him to see it without me telling him. He needed to be able to pick out his flaws. If a person can’t acknowledge their own flaws there’s no way to grow.

I let the routine run in my head
as he drove in the near silence of the cab, navigating through the blowing snow on the way home. I really couldn’t be too disappointed. He had passed. That’s what mattered. I had enforced that one thing quite thoroughly. He had to pass.

“Hadley,” he began.

I didn’t answer him. He needed to think about this without my input.
I had my head leaning against the window and my eyes closed, feigning sleep. I was truly tired but I didn’t think I’d sleep on the drive home.

The day had been extremely stressful. It was the first time in a long time that
I had publicly exposed myself. My introverted self was exhausted from all the people contact, but I hadn’t always been introverted, I needed to overcome this as well. I stopped fighting the fatigue and let myself fall into sleep.