Page 78 of Oh, Flutz!

“Bozhe, someone help him!” I half-open my eyes, and I see a cloud of fiery hair, but the only thing in focus is the utterly terrified look in the big grey eyes that are usually filled with hatred.

I feel arms pulling me up under my shoulders, a swarm of faces and voices going in and out.

Someone claps in front of my face, and the shock cracks open. Reality rushes back in.

“I’m fine,” I say. I say it, over and over, until people start turning away, content that I’m not on the verge of dying. The Norwegian team helps the Japanese girl up, and she doesn’t seem hurt either, so everyone’s a little more relaxed.

“That could’ve been bad,” I hear Logan Bergeron’s voice remark from behind me.

“What even happened?” Emma asks, sounding a little suspicious, and if I were even remotely fully conscious I’d be freaking out, try to laugh it off, but I can’t. I barely catch Logan’s response over the blood rushing in my ears.

“No clue.”

“Skaters, the warmup has now ended. Please exit the ice.”

I blink a few more times.I have to get up.

It takes me another second to realize there’s a medic crouched on the ice next to me, checking me over. I have no idea what he’s doing to me, but I’m still too out of it to care. Lian’s on my other side, still in her street shoes. She must’ve run out here.

“Young. Are you good to keep going?”

She isn’t freaking out.Everything is fine. I look up at her, starting to breathe normally again. “Uh, I…I think. Yes,” I say, a little more confidently, nodding. “Yes.”

“Excuse me.” I turn to see Katya stepping out from behind Lian. “Um…they said we can go after the Croatians instead of before if we need to,” she says, voice uneasy and small. She’s staring at my arm, face white as a sheet.

It takes me a second of trying to process what just happened before I finally glance down at where she’s looking. Streaking down my bicep is an angry stripe of red against my skin, where Katya’s skate blade must’ve caught me on her way down.

I don’t even really feel it. I just stare at it.

And then the anger—and the searing pain—hit me like a ton of bricks. Lian probably sees it come onto my face before I can even open my mouth, and she hisses, “Hold it in for five freaking seconds, Young, for my sake.Please.”

Lian never says please. So I do. I keep my mouth shut, jaw clenched tight, practically breathing fire, the medic unraveling a roll of gauze and wrapping it tight around my arm. We wait for him to finish before I slowly get up, Lian supporting me.

We pass the Croatian pair as we get off the ice. “Thank you,” I remember to tell them, and they smile.

“Of course. We’re glad no one was badly hurt,” the woman says, Ivana something, and I try to smile back.

Katya looks like she’d much rather not go with me anywhere. I can’t blame her, actually. I am dangerously close to blowing a fuse.

Which is why, the second Lee’s shepherded us off the ice and out of range of anyone who could overhear, all gloves are off.

“What in theactual hellis wrong with you?” I demand, and I can feel all the blood rushing to my face and neck like I’m about to have a heart attack. “Huh?”

“I didn’t—”

“Guys, keep it down,” Lee warns.

“She just tried to kill me!” I yell, sticking my arm out for Lian to see, and in the split second it takes Katya to recover and act like she doesn’t care, I can see that she does. She looks shaken.

But of course, she just clears her throat, the ice queen persona sliding back into place like nothing even happened. Like she didn’t freak out when she thought I was hurt. Because she did. Isawit.

But that doesn’t even matter. I’m more worried about the fact that she could have just killed us both—or lost us the chance at competing at all for the rest of the season, forget this competition. I’m talking Nationals. The Olympics. Everything.

“So dramatic,” she says finally. “It’s a tiny little scratch.”

I stare at her for a second. “Are you kidding me?”

“Guys,” Lian warns again, but I’m done.

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