Chapter 23

Chapter 23

“I n first place, and world ice dance champions for 2002…”

Camera flashbulbs lit up the arena, a barrage of small explosions.

“Yelena Volkova and Nikita Zolotov, from Russia!”

Yelena and Nikita skated out hand in hand, their artfully tattered costumes fluttering behind them, and stepped onto the red carpet unfurled across the ice.

“Winners of the silver medal, Arielle Moreau and Lucien Beck, from France!”

The solemn woodwind music set my teeth on edge. As Arielle and Lucien took their places on the podium, I kept applauding, kept smiling. I wouldn’t be a sore loser.

Heath sat beside me with his hands in his lap. He didn’t seem angry anymore, only weary. Defeated. It was strange to be so close without touching him.

I couldn’t even look at him. If I did, I’d scream.

“Third, and winners of the bronze medal, Isabella Lin and Garrett Lin, from the United States of America!”

The medal that would have been a crowning achievement for Heath and me was a consolation prize for Bella and Garrett. When Bella bent to receive her bronze, she tensed as if the official was about to string her from a gallows.

You ungrateful bitch, I thought. But I kept smiling.

“Please rise for the national anthem of the champions.”

We stood. Heath brushed my knuckles, and I curled my hand into a fist. We should have been on that podium, the American flag ascending above us. Not sitting in the stands, watching.

He cupped his hand around my clenched fingers, leaning close so I could hear him over the triumphant strains of the Russian anthem. “We’ll do better next time.”

I jerked away. He flinched like I’d struck him.

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” I said.

Coming into the championships, we’d been on the rise, a team to watch. Now we were a joke. Sheila hadn’t said a word to us since our dismal scores flashed on the screen; if she agreed to train us for another season, it would be a miracle. Or charity, which was worse. With a lesser coach—and as far as I was concerned, every coach was lesser when compared to Sheila Lin—we’d have no chance of clawing ourselves back to relevance.

Maybe that was what Heath wanted, consciously or not. Leaving the Ice Academy would have meant leaving California. Leaving the Lins. He would have me all to himself again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your 2002 world medalists!”

The skaters squeezed onto the top platform for official photos, then began their victory lap around the rink. I descended the steps, not waiting to see whether Heath would follow.

By the time I reached Bella and Garrett, I’d stretched my smile even wider, jaw aching from the effort.

“Congratulations!”

Bella was closer, so I embraced her first. But I made sure to hold on longer to Garrett. I knew Heath was watching. I knew it would hurt him. I wanted it to hurt.

“Thanks.” Bella wrapped the medal ribbon around her wrist. “Sorry about—”

I waved off her condolences. “It’s fine. We should celebrate.”

At that, Bella’s eyes lit up. “Wanna eat some carbs?”

“Absolutely. Where should we go?”

“Katarina.”

Heath had caught up to us. I turned to face him but stayed between the twins—battle lines drawn. Garrett shifted uncomfortably beside me.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” Heath asked.

“We’re going out.” My voice was so cold, I felt as if a layer of frost had settled over me.

“When you get back, then.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Katarina, please, I—”

“Don’t wait up.”