Ten minutes later, Vida stands at the edge of the ice and breathes deeply as she watches the first girl in her group swirl around to a romantic ballad. Then she's on. She stands poised in front of the judges, waiting for her name to be announced. The music starts with a jolt. The judges had forgotten to call her name, a slip in the protocol that throws Vida off. She scrambles into the routine a crucial two seconds too late. Her nervousness injects little shock waves into her normally smooth moves. She's a bit off beat, struggling to maintain her concentration, instead of floating effortlessly through the violins' melody.
She never falls, but she never settles into herself either. Afterward, she sits down next to her mother, who puts her arm around her. "They didn't call my name," Vida says quietly, explaining her hesitancy.
A few minutes later, a child serving as a runner between judges and officials reports, in a panicked whisper, that Vida has been disqualified for doing a double salchow, a move too advanced for her skill level, according to the girl. Vida escapes to the bathroom and sobs for 10 full minutes. Halasa marches off to the judges' corner to investigate, confirming that the report is wrong—all moves are permissible in an artistic routine and Vida was never considered for disqualification. Vida comes out and accepts second place in her group.
Olive's fear comes to pass—she wins her initial set and must skate her routine again, along with the winners from the other small groups. On a high, she reenters the rink and performs the routine with a touch more excitement but the same gentle delivery. A few minutes later, she stands on a podium in the lobby, where she is awarded third place in the runoff, having beaten 13 skaters. Constant smiling seems to have worn a new dimple in her cheek. Vida, quite calm and content considering the emotional roller coaster she's endured, chats with Olive before saying goodbye. They'll see each other Monday at 5:50 a.m., when they start preparing for the U.S. Figure Skating Association's regional championships in September.
On the day of her competition, Tatyana, sporting a red outfit that her mother bought online and embellished with sequins, is nervous and excited. After Halasa gives her a post-warm-up tip for her camel spin, Tatyana slips on a satin jacket with "Italia" stitched across the front, a nod to her Italian father, who isn't there and doesn't like to watch her compete but who bought his daughter's first pair of figure skates at the Salvation Army for three dollars when she was 3 years old.
Though Tatyana is dying to beat her friend Laura, who's first on the roster, she nevertheless cheers her on. Finally it's Tatyana's turn. Streisand's defiant lyrics and brass band back-up transform the rink into a musical-theater stage. Tatyana whirls around with strength and pizzazz, her chin lifted in a haughty pose. She shakes her shoulders and looks coyly toward the crowd. But as she crosses one foot in back of the other, executing a basic move, the pick of her blade snags on the ice. She flies into the air, lands hard on her hip and skids for several slow seconds across the ice.
Tatyana quickly picks herself up, turns around, skates up some momentum and lands a double salchow—a jump with two full rotations. She ends with a tornadolike spin, her head thrown back, face to the ceiling. Off the ice, her friends encircle and console her. "Tatyana!" Halasa cries out. "Are you okay? I can't believe you landed that double salchow!" Tatyana's hands are chafed, but she cheerfully shrugs off the fall. "It was still fun," she insists.
The judges find the routine impressive in spite of the blunder, and Tatyana gets first place in her group. For the runoff she lines up with seven other girls, two of whom are older than she. Her hip is throbbing. Her arms are still blotchy and red. "She's not complaining now," Tatyana's mother says. "But later she'll be crying and showing me her bruises."
This time around, however, Tatyana, cheeks rosy, is sufficiently warmed up when she glides to the middle of the arena. She morphs back into her diva persona. When she hones in on the moment she fell, the audience sucks in a collective breath. She sails past. When she cinches the double salchow, the crowd cheers even louder than before.
Tatyana elbows through the mob in the lobby just as they're set to announce the results of the runoff. Over the din of onlookers reuniting with skaters comes a judge's voice: "First place goes to Tatyana Rosalia!" She gasps and hugs her mother. "I can't believe it!" she screams.
Just then she spots her friend—a tall, slim girl, slumped in the corner sobbing, disappointed with her own performance. As soon as the medal is draped around Tatyana's neck, she runs over and puts her arms around the girl. She knows just how she feels.
Tags:
adolescence,
athleticism,
blue eye shadow,
cajoling,
chelsea piers,
child athlete,
competition,
cutouts,
doe eyes,
favorite song,
figure skating,
girls,
grace on the ice,
harsh light,
jonbenet,
kitchen table,
left knee,
marnie,
metal braces,
mother father,
parents,
payoffs,
skating institute,
sky rink,
young athletes
