Dad realigns the white podium in front of the crowd background and puts the realistic—but totally fake—gold medal on top of the highest spot in the center for people to take their picture with. Yet another one of Ice Dreams’ PR manager Annabelle MacIntosh’s brilliant ideas.
I take a quick detour on my way to the locker room.
“I will be back for one of those later.” I point at the melon pan Lina’s big sister, Skyler, arranges on the bake sale table next to Brandon’s pastel macarons and his girlfriend, Naomi’s, German chocolate and coconut brownies. Erika’s marshmallow treats come in highly decorated individual baggies. “And one of those. And probably one of those.”
“I’ll put one of each back here for you,” Skyler says with a smile.
“Olivia!” Mom yells across the rink.
“I’m going!” I race into the locker room and pull my first costume of three in tonight’s student showcase out of my bag. I can’t wait for everybody to see the number I choreographed for my Tuesday-night class. Sassy Lina Kitagawa is going to steal the show. I slide on my phoenix costume for one last outing. I wish Egg could have made it back from London in time for tonight’s grand reopening extravaganza to skate with me. I do appreciate the two front-row tickets he talked Mr. Hale into donating for the raffle. I still expect comp tickets for their Phoenix performance next month, though. And a personal introduction to whoever is eating up all of Egg’s free time since he can’t seem to text me back in a reasonable amount of time anymore.
I line my eyes and tap a little bit of glitter on my bloodred lips for old time’s sake. The derby girls are here. I can hear them in the barre area—which now doubles as the dry land training area—razzing Mack about her new man. I retie my laces and check my costume one last time in the mirror.
“Is she coming?” someone says, and another woman shushes her.
I walk out of the locker room to find the Surly Gurlz in an arc with their left hands extended. Starting with Barnacle Barb and ending with Mack, I travel the arc high-fiving each of the Gurlz. I even tap Fiona’s outstretched hand.
“Give Auntie Olivia her present,” Mack says, adjusting Fiona’s Santa hat.
I squat down to take the gift bag from Fiona, but she doesn’t want to give it up. I dip my hand in the bag anyway and pull out a bundle of black fabric with the Surly Gurlz logo on it.
“Put your hands together for OLIVIAAAAA ‘PHOENIX’ KENNEDYYYYY!” Mack yells when I flip the T-shirt over. Sure enough, PHOENIX in large red glitter letters decorates the back.
“I love it.” I give Mack a hug, and she squeezes me so hard that my skates leave the floor.
“We’ll have to wear our shirts to the bout next weekend.” Jonah’s voice floats over the crowd.
“Quick Silver!” Barnacle Barb messes up Jonah’s hair as he passes by her. “Our boy cleans up nice, don’t he?”
Mack backs up until Jonah—in a royal-blue button-down and charcoal dress pants—stands in front of me. My heart flutters.
“You made it,” I say.
“You know I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“How was your weekend?”
When Jonah starts unbuttoning his shirt, Barnacle Barb covers her eyes and teases, “Hey now, this is a family-friendly event!”
Jonah pulls a gold medal out. And then a second one. “I know it’s pretentious.”
“Not pretentious. Maybe a little extra, though.”
“Says the girl wearing basically a sparkly bikini.” And even though everybody is looking at us, Jonah leans down and kisses me. When we break apart a moment later, he whispers, “Colorado Springs isn’t going to know what hit ’em.”