Page 49 of Oh, Flutz!

Bryan groans. “Oh, boring!”

I smile at Anne. “Oh, and we probably shouldn’t make the choreography too difficult. I don’t want Bryan to get overwhelmed.”

His smile drops from his face.

The woman looks unconvinced, glancing back at Lian. “Perhaps I should…”

“No.” Lian pins us both with a vicious glare that makes us fall silent like chastised children. “We’ll compromise, like the mature adults we are. Right?”

Bryan elbows me hard, and I glare daggers at him only for him to smile down at me sweetly. “Right.”

“Good. We’ll do the short program to a soundtrack—”

“Oh,no—”

“—and the free skate to a classical piece.”

“What?” Bryan protests. “That’s no fair! The free is longer!”

“Exactlywhichsoundtrack?”

“Both of you, quiet. Katya, any ideas for the free?”

“Swan Lake,” I say triumphantly, and Bryan makes a gagging noise.

“Lee—”

“Bry, I don’t want to hear it. Just pick the—"

“Top Gun,” he says immediately, and my eyes practically pop out of my head.

“The one aboutplanes?” I cry in horror, and Bryan’s grin is disgustingly self-satisfied.

Anne smiles. “That sounds excellent. This way, everyone is happy.”

Yeah, right.

Drills, drills, drills.

“I need a feel for your style,” our choreographer had explained. She watches us intently as we do laps, step sequences; every element we have except for the throw jumps, which we haven’t even started yet. We have just over six months until we start competing, and we haven’t even triedonceto do what’s one of the required elements.

Though twists are nerve-wracking enough. It’s not like I’m excited to get literally catapulted across the ice like a frisbee.

“You two have very different styles, different personalities,” Anne tells us after calling us back. “We must let them complement each other. Katya, you are more balletic, graceful. But it can get cold, yes?”

The smirk that sprang up when she started her sentence evaporates, and Bryan snorts.

“Bryan, you are energetic, more powerhouse. You have the emotion, but you’re holding back.”

“She’s saying you skate constipated, Bry,” Lian says dryly.

“She’s right,” I add.

“You’d agree with anyone who criticized me, Andreyeva.”

Anne seems to find us more entertaining than Lian does, and struggles to hide a smile. “It’s no problem. It’s just something for me to take into consideration. And we’ll be able to work more once we have the music ready.”

“I’ll send it to our guy today, so we have it as soon as possible,” Lian assures her.

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