Page 100 of Revolve
When I came back with snacks from the kitchen last night, she asked if I’ve watchedTangled. When I said no, she was adamant it was a crime for us to dance in our costumes while I had no clue what the movie was about. So, for an entire hour and forty minutes, I was hooked. It wasn’t until the credits rolled and I nearly shed a tear that I looked down to see Sierra, fast asleep with her head on my shoulder. I don’t know how long I looked at her, but eventually, I fell asleep too.
This morning, she was already in the shower when I woke up, and I had to sneak back to my room before Lidia saw me. Neither of us brought it up.
And now Sierra replays our short program on Lidia’s phone for the third time. Måneskin’s “I Wanna Be Your Slave” plays on a loop. Sierra’s in a black and crimson dress with a lace-up back, and I’m in a black button-up. It’s the technical part of our program, the two minutes and forty seconds where we have to hit all the required lifts, jumps, and spirals to rack up the points with the judges. Short programs are all about setting the level of difficulty, while free skates let us get creative to tell a story.
Irritated, I snatch the phone from her grasp. When she tries to reach for it, I notice the darkened smiley face on her hand. She retraced it.
“I was just checking if we’re coordinated,” she says.
“We are. You don’t need a video to tell you that.”
“Fine,” she says, playing with the gems on her dress.
“Look at me,” I urge. “You know what we have that these peopledon’t? Each other. They might have years of experience, but you and I, Sierra, we have natural chemistry. It pours out of us—enough to make Lidia uncomfortable. So, we’re going to show them exactly that. Got it?”
Just as she nods, our names are called. But before we go, Sierra stops me. She takes my hand and places it over her heart, then takes hers and places it on mine. “Ready?” she says.
I smile. “Ready.”
It’s four minutes and thirty seconds of pure focus and strength. This performance is point heavy. That means performing a throw triple Lutz where I toss Sierra in the air to spin three times, followed by a side-by-side axel, and a death spiral where she’s low, almost flat on the ice in an arc position. Finally, a modified lasso per Lidia’s orders.
She still wants us to practice the real one, the one where Sierra fell, a million more times. Sierra wasn’t happy about that, but I agreed.
At the last jump we’re both smiling wide going into a sit spin, and we close out our sequence back-to-back, and when we face each other again, she’s nearly bursting. There’s a split second where I almost kiss her, but I hold her tight against me to stop myself.
As we impatiently wait for the scores in the kiss-and-cry, Sierra’s beaming. It’s the first time she’s done that without even having the scores in front of her.
ROMANOVA & DONOVANshoots through the list, with the highest cumulative score.
“Holy shit,” we say in unison.
“I FEEL LIKEI’m high,” Sierra says, then glances at me. “Sorry.”
I roll my eyes.
She giggles, and I realize I’ve never seen this version of her before. She’s damn near floating. We’re headed back up to our rooms.Since it’s dark, we’re staying the night and heading out in the morning because I have an early hockey practice. I know I’ll be fucking exhausted and barely make it through Kilner’s drills, but it doesn’t matter. I’d never miss this.
We get off the elevator, but Lidia stays back. “I’ve got something to do. You two rest.”
“You think she’s getting laid?” I ask when the elevator doors close.
“Definitely.”
“Maybe she’ll go easy on us now.”
Sierra turns to walk down the hall. “Sixteen years with her and not once has she gone easy on me. But she did make mePonchiki—Russian doughnuts—after a competition once.”
Sierra’s room is first, so we slow as we get to her door. The memory of us falling asleep together echoes. Memories of when she lay flat on her back and let me feel every inch of her body come crashing into me like a wave.
I clear my throat. “We did good today, Romanova.”
“We did.” Sierra smiles as we reach her door. “You wanna come in? We can watch something like yesterday,” she offers. “I’m hopped up on adrenaline, and I kind of hate being alone in hotel rooms.”
I nod and slip into her room. Because she asked me to.
I close the door, and when I turn, Sierra’s standing so close, she jumps in surprise, bumping into her suitcase. It tips over, spilling its contents across the floor. She gasps, and I’m about to ask her if she’s okay, but then I see it.
There’s a vibrator on the floor, buzzing softly. I bite back a laugh as I step closer, my hands landing on her shoulders. Sierra’s gone red all the way to her hairline.
