Page 26 of Hate You Most

Viktoriya froze on the last step. “My—what?”

“You keep falling,” Dakota said and took a step toward her.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” Viktoriya said with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Dakota said. “If you keep beating yourself up over it, then you're never going to land it. It's hard. It's a hard move and figure skating is a hard sport, but you've got to stop whatever this self-pity thing is and do the work to land it.”

Viktoriya folded her arms. “You’re here to console me, aren't you?”

“No,” Dakota said. “I’m here to make sure you don’t quit before I get a real challenge. You will land it the next time we're on the ice.”

Viktoriya’s jaw tightened. “You really have to be everywhere, don’t you?”

“Someone has to keep you honest,” Dakota said, shrugging. “You’re stubborn and you're too talented to let this be the thing that breaks you. Trust me—you can do it. I've seen it.”

The cold air tugged at her long hair and blew it across her face. She lifted a hand quickly and tucked it behind her ear. The air was sharp enough to sting her lungs.

She laughed. “You've not seen it. I can't land a triple axel, it feels impossible.”

Dakota shook her head. “I can. So, it's not impossible now, is it?”

Viktoriya arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, what? Now you are coach too?”

Dakota stepped closer. “I’m not your coach. Just someone who doesn’t like to see your potential being wasted.”

“My potential being wasted?” Viktoriya asked. “I think you just like rubbing it in that you can land a triple axel and I can't. I think you like to brag, Sanchez.”

“Maybe,” she smiled. “Or maybe I just want you to prove me right. You can do it. You just haven’t yet.”

Dakota's dark hair blew in the wind, and Viktoriya was suddenly reminded of how cold it was, and just how stupid it was to be having this conversation outside. If she got sick, it would put her out of practice for a few days and set her even more behind than she already was.

“Okay.”

“Okay… what?” Dakota asked slowly.

“Come upstairs and prove me wrong.” Viktoriya nodded toward her apartment. “Help me land a triple axel on the floor, and maybe I will believe you are not an annoying person that likes to brag.”

They moved up the stairs and into the building, then stepped into the elevator together, the doors sliding shut behind them with a soft sound. The silence inside was immediate and Viktoriya's thoughts were suddenly too loud for her own head. The elevator rose slowly, numbers lighting up one by one as they climbed.

Dakota leaned back against the metal wall and Viktoriya stood a little straighter beside her, eyes fixed on the floor indicator as if it could offer her something to focus on other than the fact that Dakota was right there. On the seventh floor, the doors opened.

Viktoriya stepped out first, quickly followed by Dakota.

Inside, Viktoriya wished Dakota had said she was coming by, because her apartment wasn't tidy at all. Hopefully she wouldn't care, because there was nothing she could do about it now.

The two moved to the living room, the largest space in the entire apartment. It wasn't large by any means, and Viktoriya had to move the coffee table up against the wall for there to be enough space to jump around.

Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the city light, casting a pale yellow glow across the wooden floorboards. A magazine and a half-finished cup of tea that was on the table got moved to the floor in the far corner. Across from the couch, a narrow bookshelf held books, trophies, photos, and Viktoriya’s collection of rare figure skating magazines.

Dakota stood near the center of the room, arms loose at her sides. “Alright,” she said. “We’re not on the ice, so don’t try the jump with your full takeoff. Watch me first.”

Dakota bent her knees, pivoted slightly, and did a triple axel right there on the hardwood floor. She jumped into the air, spun three and a half rotations and landed softly on the opposite foot from the one she took off from. Viktoriya noticed the subtle shift of her hips, the extension of her arms, the way she kept her core tight while rotating.

“See that?” Dakota asked, stepping closer. “It’s all about the timing. Jump too early or too late and your rotation completely fails. Core tight, shoulders down, eyes forward.”

Viktoriya nodded, trying to mirror the stance, feeling ridiculous balancing on hardwood in socks.

Dakota grinned, catching her hesitance. “Don’t worry. No one’s falling through the floor tonight.”