mush?
âItâs not an easy program,â Greg says. âItâs challenging,but I know you can do it. Letâs show those judges you deserve a second chance.â
I nod. But inside, Iâm completely freaking out.
We spend the rest of the lesson nailing down the program in pieces. By the end, I have it memorized, even though I donât know whether I can actually do the whole thing. And do it with what Greg calls âpersonality.â
When the lesson is finally over, Greg talks to Mom about my program. I cross my fingers and hope sheâll insist on Swan Lake . And what Mom wants, she always gets. Maybe Greg will let me add a spread eagle to it.
âA tango! How daring. I love it,â she says when Greg tells her. âAnd you think itâll be ready by Regionals?â
What? No! No, no, no, no, no.
Mom and Greg keep talking around me.
âIf Kaitlin works at it,â Greg says. âSheâs an extremely talented skater, but the judges will never see that unless she really engages them. She needs to come out of her shell.â
I bite my lip to keep all the nos from falling out. Iâm standing right here, and heâs talking about me like Iâm invisible.
âIâm thinking weâll have to add some ice dance lessons too. Weâre going to turn you into a skater the judges canât possiblylook away from.â Greg squeezes my shoulder as he heads back to the ice.
They wonât be able to look away from me because Iâll be the only girl who canât get through her program. This is what I get for joining the Fall Down Club.
I have to say something. I canât let my dream die without a fight.
I look from Mom to Greg, whoâs almost to the rink doors. I have a better chance with him than with her. âI just have to ask Greg something,â I say to Mom before I run after Greg.
âWait!â I stumble over my blade guards into the doors.
âKaitlin? You okay?â Greg grabs my arm, and I manage not to fall in an ungraceful heap on the floor.
âSorry, Iâm fine. I just . . .â How am I going to say this without completely offending him? âIâm not sure about the new music. I mean, itâs really fun and intense and I like it, but I donât know if itâs me. I donât know if I can skate it the way you think I can.â
I cross my fingers behind my back and hope he doesnât dump me the way Hildy did. He smiles just a little as we step out of the way to let Svetlana and the crazy ice dance team move through the doors. Smiling canât be bad, right? Maybe he agrees with me.
âDo you trust me?â he asks.
âUm . . . yes.â At least, that sounds like a question I should say yes to. I barely even know him, but I donât think heâd want to sabotage my skating career. He wouldnât be much of a coach if he did that.
âThen trust me on this. You need fiery music. And believe me, you can skate itâbut only if you let yourself.â
âBut thatâs it. I donât think I can. My style is softer, lighter. Not . . . fiery.â
âThen who was that girl who told the judges exactly how she felt at Praterville?â
â That was an accident,â I say.
âKnocking all the medals off the table was an accident. You speaking your mind wasnât. Youâve got a bold, fiery side thatâs just dying to come out.â
For the nine hundredth time, I wish I could take back what happened at that competition.
Greg crosses his arms. âOkay. So hereâs the deal, and Iâm not being mean. Iâm being honest. If you want to be a champion, go to Nationals, maybe even the Olympics one day, you need to embrace that person you donât think you are. Or, you can do the same old thing, get the same old scores, and be happy with being mediocre. Iâll coach you either way, but itâs your decision.â
I blink at him. âYou
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