Anastasia
"Again, Anastasia!"
If I hear the words again and Anastasia together in a sentence one more time, it might be the thing that finally tips me over the edge.
I've been on the edge since I woke up this morning with a hangover sent directly from the pits of hell, so the last thing I need right now is more grief from Coach Aubrey Brady.
I focus on suppressing my annoyance, like I do every session when she makes it her mission to push me to my limits. Rationalizing it's her dedication that makes her such a successful coach, I decided throwing my ice skates at her is something that should stay in my imagination.
"You're" being sloppy, Stas!" she yells as we fly straight past her. "sloppy girls don't get metals!"
What did I say about throwing skates at her?
"Come on, Anastasia. Put on some effort for once." Aaron snickers, poking his tongue out at me when I shoot him a cold glare.
Aaron Carlise is the best male figure skater the University of California, Maple Hills, has to offer. When I was offered a spot at UCMH and my skating partner wasn't, Aaron was luckily in the same position , and we became pairs. This is out third year of skating together and our third year of getting our asses.
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I have a theory that Aubrey is a Soviet spy. I don't have any evidence, and my theory isn't well developed. Developed at all, actually. But sometimes, when she's screaming at me to straighten my spine or lift my chin, I swear a slight Russian accent slips out.
Which is peculiar for a woman from Philipsburg, Montana. Comrade Brady was a figure skating superstar in her heyday. Even now, her movements are delicate and controlled, and she moves with such grace it's hard to believe she can shout as loud as she does.
Her graying hair is always pulled back into a tight bun, which accentuates her high cheekbones, and she's always wrapped tight in her signature faux-fur black coat, which Aaron jokes is where she hides all her secrets.
The rumor is she was supposed to go to the Olympics with her partner, Wyatt. However, Wyatt and Aubrey were practicing those lifts a little too often, and she ended up holding a baby instead of a gold metal.
That's why she's been in a bad mood since she started coaching twenty-five years ago.
"Clair de lune" fades as Aaron and I finish our routine nose to nose, out chests heaving against each other as we try to catch our breath.
To Be Continued....
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