Gold Medal Winter Read online

“Humph.” She looks up at the dark gray sky a moment. “I need you to block the bad drama, whatever it is. You can’t go out there again and let it get the best of you. Focus on Danny if you need to. On Tawny. On me and Bax. Your friends Libby and Joya at home. Your mother, who adores you.”

  I nod. We are almost to the rink. I pull out my phone and dial my mother. For the millionth time, it goes straight to voicemail. Mamá would never let the phone ring like this, not on the day of my short program. “Something has happened to my mother. I can’t handle this. I’m starting to get scared. How can I focus if I’m petrified about my mother?”

  “Espi —”

  “I mean, where is she?! I need her! I’m worried!” I look at Coach in despair. “Why aren’t you more worried? It’s been over twenty-four hours since she and I have talked, and that is not like her!”

  Coach Chen puts her hands on my shoulders, the thing she always does when she wants to calm me down and reassure me that everything will be okay. My heart rate automatically slows. “Espi, be quiet and follow me.”

  Coach leads me through the glittering glass entrance to the arena. She takes my hand and pulls me toward the stands, not toward the door to backstage, where we should be headed.

  “Where are we —?” I start, then stop.

  Because I see where we’re going.

  Because I see why too.

  “Mamá!” I cry.

  My mother is standing there beaming at me. Her eyes are tired and her hair is sticking up in the back like she slept on an airplane all night.

  Because she did. She must have. That’s why she didn’t pick up the phone. She was on her way here!

  She puts her arms out. “¡Mija!”

  I run and give her the biggest hug I’ve ever given my mother in my entire life. She squeezes me tight and kisses the top of my head, and it’s in this moment that I know that no matter what, everything is going to be okay.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I say, taking a step back to look at her again.

  “I can’t believe it either.” She hugs Coach Chen. “It’s good to see you, Lucy.”

  “You couldn’t have gotten here a moment sooner,” Coach says, shaking her head. Then she turns to me. “Surprise, Espi!”

  “You knew?” I ask.

  “Since three days ago. The visa came through.”

  I look at my mother and all around us. That’s when I see Luca hovering a ways off by the seats. “Luca’s here too?” He waves at me and I wave back. Mr. Chen is next to him and gives me his mad mathematician face, like always. It’s strangely comforting.

  My mother smiles a little bit shyly. “Luca insisted on coming.” She glances behind her at him and Mr. Chen, then turns back to me. “The three of us flew together. We wanted to see your dreams come true in person.”

  “Being here is definitely a dream,” I say. “But I don’t know that my dreams of Olympic gold will ever be a reality. Please don’t expect too much tonight.”

  “Esperanza Flores,” my mother says sternly. “I did not raise you to be a doubter! Your name means hope. Don’t go losing it now.” She picks up the small carry-on bag at her feet and holds it out to me. “I brought you something that might help.”

  I take the bag and unzip the top to see what’s inside. The smile on my face reaches ear to ear.

  “So, there’s been a change of plans,” I say to Coach Chen. “I’m not wearing the Wang.” I pull out her old costume and hold it up between the three of us. “I’ve decided I’m going to wear the Chen. For good luck.”

  When I get backstage before the Ladies’ Short Program event, Tawny is deep in conversation with Meredith.

  I didn’t know those two were friends.

  Meredith waves her arms around as she talks. Tawny has a look of horror on her face. I hang back. I don’t want to talk to Meredith right now.

  Stacie and Coach East are a little ways off in the corner. I don’t see Coach Danson anywhere, and I almost wonder if he’s simply abandoned Meredith altogether. The thought sends a pang of sadness for her shooting through my middle.

  I turn the other way and see Jennifer and Hunter coming toward me, holding hands, both of them wearing smirks. Hunter’s silver medal is dangling around his neck.

  It kind of makes me want to barf.

  But at least he isn’t taking home the gold.

  I’m surrounded on all sides by major figure skating drama. It doesn’t matter which way I go, I’ll have to contend with somebody I’d rather avoid.

  Then suddenly, everyone is headed in my direction.

  Stacie is on her way to talk to Jennifer and Hunter, I think. Tawny and Meredith are on their way to me. Tawny glares at Stacie and blocks her path. “I can’t believe you’d do that to us!”

  She rolls her eyes. “Do what?”

  “Sabotage the Team Event!”

  Stacie’s face goes white. Her eyes go to me, even as she answers Tawny. “Who told you?”

  Meredith snaps her fingers to get Stacie’s attention. “I did.”

  “You’d betray our friendship —”

  Meredith huffs. “Friendship? What friendship? You’re nasty to me. You boss me around. You make me feel bad about myself. You psych me out, not up. And you call that friendship?” Stacie opens her mouth, but Meredith halts her by putting up a hand. “Don’t even try to fix this. It can’t be fixed. You and I are done.”

  “But I —”

  Tawny snaps her fingers in front of Stacie’s face to get her attention. “My turn now.” She screws up her face in disgust. “Don’t bother with excuses, Grant. Tell them to the USFS! And to Janie and Johnny, whose only hope of medaling depended on the Team Event!”

  Tawny is so sweet all the time that I didn’t know she was capable of such rage. It makes me glad I’m not on her bad side.

  Stacie points a finger at me. “Esperanza fell! And Esperanza —”

  “Don’t you dare blame Espi. She didn’t do it on purpose. You, however, did! And you threw everyone off in the process!” Tawny looks over her shoulder at Jennifer and Hunter, who’ve been hovering in the background, listening this whole time. Then she turns back to Stacie. “You do realize that sabotaging Esperanza wasn’t the only item on Jennifer’s agenda, right?”

  Stacie twirls her blond hair around a finger nervously. She lets it go, then does it again. “What are you talking about?” she asks, her tone uncertain.

  “Did it ever occur to you that by convincing you to botch your programs for the Team Event, Jennifer was sabotaging what might be your only chance at gold? And when she let it slip in front of your other teammates that you agreed to this, she was sabotaging you for the individual medals too? Maybe she wanted people to find out your secret so she could pull you into a drama and psych you out. Or worse, even jeopardize your ability to compete. I mean, why would someone like Espi, after the way you’ve treated her, not get you in trouble with the US Figure Skating officials? What reason have you given Esperanza to protect you? Or me, for that matter? Or your former best friend, Meredith?”

  Stacie’s mouth opens wide. She clearly hasn’t thought of any of this.

  Coach East approaches. “What’s going on here? Why are you girls fighting?” Her voice is sweet, but I can hear the tone underneath that says she doesn’t mess around and isn’t happy to hear us bickering.

  Tawny and Meredith open their mouths at once, ready to speak, but I get there first.

  “We were arguing about one of the hockey boys,” I pipe in cheerily. “Silly girl stuff. You know how it is.”

  Coach East looks at me hard. “You’re arguing about boys now?”

  “Mm-hm.” I turn to Meredith and Tawny for help. “Aren’t we?”

  Tawny shoots me a what are you doing look. “Um. Sure,” she says. “I guess.”

  Meredith stays silent. She gives Stacie a glare as sharp as a knife.

  “Cut the drama,” Coach East says to all of us. “Three of you are about to skate tonight.” She eyes me. “I thought you
were an exception to this sort of ridiculousness, Esperanza.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Coach East,” I say in a small voice, honestly sorry to lose some of her respect, especially at the expense of protecting Stacie.

  Coach East shakes her head and walks away, leaving the three of us alone again.

  Stacie’s lip quivers. “Why didn’t you tell on me?” she asks.

  I stare straight into her eyes for a long time before I answer. “Because I’m not a mean person like you. And because I’m going to beat you fair and square. No one is going to be able to say that Esperanza Flores only won Olympic gold because Stacie Grant didn’t compete.”

  Before she can say anything else, I walk away.

  “Wait up,” Tawny and Meredith call out behind me.

  So I do.

  My short program goes flawlessly.

  I do my triple lutz–triple toe loop combination. I do my straight line step sequence for the sake of the judges. I do the flying sit spin with its death drop that makes the crowd ooh and ahhh. My triple axel goes off without a hitch.

  I do it all with pizzazz and confidence and with Joya’s good-luck star earrings sparkling brightly from my ears. I hope she sees them shining there on television.

  “¡Qué bonito, mija!” my mother screams from the stands.

  Before I skate a victory lap around the rink, smiling and waving at the crowd, I pause a beat in front of the spot where Mr. Chen, Luca, and my mom are jumping up and down like lunatics and I blow them a kiss. When the little girls sweeping the ice of teddy bears and other stuffed animals bring them over to the Kiss and Cry, I give each one of them a hug instead of turning away from them in tears like I did last time.

  “Nice job, Esperanza,” Coach Chen says, giving me a squeeze followed by a kiss on the cheek when my scores come out, the two of us smiling and celebrating on camera for all the world to see. “No tears for you tonight.”

  I brush my left hand along the shoulder of my costume. “It must be my lucky Chen,” I tell her, and she laughs.

  I start to feel a little redeemed. Like I might even have a shot at gold. Mai Ling is a full point and a half ahead of me, and Irina Mitslaya is two tenths of a point in front for the silver, but I’m still totally in this thing.

  If Mai Ling doesn’t go for a quad in her free skate, I could pull off gold.

  Then again, so could Meredith. She came out onto the ice tonight with her arms swinging, ready for battle. We’re only one tenth of a point apart.

  Stacie, to everyone’s shock and dismay, is trailing far behind at number 10. She actually fell. Landed on her butt not once, but twice. I would be lying if I said I felt bad for her. I just don’t.

  As the clock ticks down the last twenty-four hours until my final Olympic performance, my only job is to stay focused.

  Confident.

  Drama-free.

  Esperanza Flores, Queen of Drama, has left the building for good.

  America’s Hope for Gold is back.

  “Espi?”

  Meredith is sitting cross-legged on her bed, reading a magazine when I walk in the door. My cheeks are flushed from standing outside for the last hour saying good night to Danny.

  Yes, it took a whole hour.

  It was mostly talking, though. His final game is tomorrow, so gold will be decided for the both of us on the same day.

  “Hi, Meredith,” I say, sitting down across from her. “Your short program was amazing tonight.”

  “Thanks. So was yours.” She sets the magazine aside. “I admire the fact that you didn’t say anything to Coach East about Stacie.”

  “It’s not that admirable. I almost ratted her out to Coach Chen before I thought better of it. And I seriously did not do it for Stacie. I meant what I said earlier. The only reason I didn’t tell was so Stacie couldn’t say that whoever wins does so only because she didn’t skate.”

  Meredith gets a happy, faraway look in her eyes. “Well, either way, Stacie is now the victim of her own evil ways.”

  “You’re really glad she choked, aren’t you?”

  She nods. “I’ve spent years in Stacie’s shadow. It’s about time I go out on my own.”

  I take my hair out of its topknot, bobby pin by bobby pin. “You may have distanced yourself from Stacie, but you’re not on your own exactly. And I don’t mean that in a bad way,” I add quickly.

  “No?”

  I shake my head. “You still have me as a friend. If you want.”

  Meredith smiles. “I want.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. I definitely do.” A cloud passes over her. “Promise me something, though.”

  “Okay,” I say cautiously.

  “Promise me that regardless of what happens tomorrow night, regardless of whether you and I both medal, if only one of us medals, or if neither of us do, you’ll still be willing to be friends.”

  I laugh. “Of course. That’s an easy promise to make.”

  “Really?”

  I nod.

  “Good,” she says. “Now let’s talk about the important stuff. I want to know what’s going on with you and Danny Morrison. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t look out the window tonight and see you two making out. And I met this short-track skater boy and he’s totally cute.”

  I sit across from her on my bed and the two of us dish happily about boys and the Olympics so far and a million other things.

  When we finally go to sleep, I’m still smiling.

  “Time to warm up, Espi.” Coach Chen ushers me out of the dressing room after I’m all sewn in, straight toward the official who’s waiting to let me onto the ice. “Impress those judges during warm-ups,” she goes on. “Give them a little preview of what they’re about to see — but hold back the quad sal. Make sure the technical panel sees your footwork. And finish off with a nice Ina Bauer or one of your spins.”

  “Yes, Coach. Will do.”

  “Nice dress,” she adds with a smile.

  I give her a big smile back. “Did you know? Someone wore it to win Olympic gold a couple of decades ago.”

  “I did hear that.”

  “Maybe its luck will rub off on me.”

  Still smiling, I skate out onto the ice. Warm-ups at international competitions are for showing off. I do a quick lap, a back spin, and then go straight into some jumps, with a little footwork in between. The technical panel always wants to see a step sequence a couple of times before they can give it a level three or four grade of execution, and tonight is not the night to be holding back. I focus on my spins next. Jumps are easy for the judges to score, but the spins require a high GOE, so they’re worth doing a few times in front of the panel. I do my best to stay out of the way of the other skaters and try not to notice who is doing what, since I don’t want to psych myself out. I don’t even look to see if Mai Ling is attempting a quad. I stop to stretch my arms and shoulders, grateful for the television holds that give us a precious few minutes off camera to get ourselves ready. Then I do one last fast lap around the rink and finish off with an Ina Bauer before curtsying to the judges and the audience. The curtsy is a sign of respect and gratitude that they watched you.

  I use the last minute of warm-ups to try to relax a little and talk to Coach. I’m practically made of nervous energy by the time I reach the place where she waits for me with a bottle of water.

  “You’re almost there, Espi,” she says, and gives me a great big hug. “In less than an hour, this will all be over.”

  “I know,” I say, butterflies erupting in my stomach. “Don’t remind me.”

  I shake out my arms and legs just to have something to do.

  I wish they gave parents credentials to wait by the ice entrance so I could hang out with my mother, but they are really strict about these things at the Olympics. To see her, I’m going to have to go into the stands afterward.

  While I wait to get called, I stay away from the skater’s lounge. The last thing I need is to be around food, which I think would make m
e nauseous at this point, or hear the television commentary and the scores as the other skaters compete. I always hate listening to the announcers during people’s programs, because then I start to imagine what they must be saying about me to the entire world while I’m skating. Besides, I’d rather see the competition from backstage, where I have a direct view of the ice.

  Mai Ling is up, and I hold my breath.

  She skates like a machine.

  Perfect.

  Powerful.

  But lacking a little in the pizzazz department.

  And no quad sal.

  I’m practically bouncing up and down on my toes about this.

  When she comes off the ice, there are no smiles for her from her coach, and she doesn’t smile for the crowd either. She waves, but she’s more like a girlish figure-skating robot than someone you watch and think, She really loves this sport. She’s gracious to the sweepers, though, and gives each of them a hug when they hand her the gifts they’ve picked up off the ice.

  Her scores are great.

  But they’re not unbeatable.

  Irina Mitslaya is as perky as perky gets. She almost reminds me of Stacie with her blond hair and her sparkling smile. She messes up some of her footwork, though, which is going to affect her GOE. And she’s off by half a rotation on her triple lutz.

  The crowd loves her regardless. They jump to their feet while she blows kisses and waves.

  Her scores open up a wide gap between gold and silver, however.

  There is room to squeeze in between her and Mai Ling.

  “Espi, you’re on deck. Meredith’s up now.”

  “Come on, Meredith,” I yell. “You can do it!”

  It turns out that Meredith has some tricks up her sleeve too. She does a perfect triple axel, though her balance on the landing was a little off. But then she does another going into one of her jump combinations.

  I thought I was the only one other than Mai Ling with a triple axel. I guess not.

  “Did you know she had that?” Coach Chen leans in to whisper.

  “No idea.”

  “You’ve got to land that quad sal, Espi.”

  “I know.”

  When Meredith finishes, the crowd leaps to its feet. She skated a nearly flawless program, but she also showed the kind of personality that only someone like Irina Mitslaya usually manages. Stuffed animals litter the ice.