I’m not so sure. A princess is someone who oozes grace, from fingertips to feet. Someone who wears frilly dresses and powders blush on her cheeks. That’s not me. I’m a strong skater who lands jumps on perfectly timed crescendos. That’s why my short program works. It’s all about speed and power instead of portraying a delicate character.
I want to tell Alex this. So badly.
Except, he might just explain that sometimes we have to play roles that don’t fit perfectly, like the romantic duet he performed with Jen in France. Acting is a part of skating.
“Let’s focus on your salchow for a moment,” Alex says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “The takeoff was a bit rushed. Are you getting thrown off by the steps leading up to it?”
“They’re fine,” I huff. It’s the princess part of the program that’s messing me up.
“Okay.” Alex raises his eyebrows like he’s not sure he believes me. “Then go try it again. Start right after your opening pose so you can build up some speed.”
I glide off, grateful I don’t have to balance on my toe picks again. I perform a quick twizzle, then a crisp rocker turn from forward to backward. One crossover, then I turn into my takeoff position. My right leg extends back, kicks through, and snaps.
Alex claps.
I perform my next couple of steps, stopping right before my first spin.
“You were right,” Alex calls as he glides over to me. “The steps flow well into that jump. Now you just need to land it to music.” I know he’s just teasing me a little, but I’m not in the mood.
“That’s it for your lesson.” Alex pats my shoulder. “Good job today.”
It didn’t feel good. A performance like that won’t cut it if I want to skip Regionals.
Faith looks at me with a tentative smile as I grab my bag from behind the boards. It only makes me feel worse. I cut past her without a word, ignoring the other skaters on my way to the coaches’ lounge. I don’t feel like talking to anyone.
I eat my dinner alone in the coaches’ lounge. When Alex arrives after his final lesson, I grab my bag and get up.
“Gotta change for skate-school.” I slip out before he can say anything. It’s not a lie, but it also isn’t the full truth. I need time to plan exactly how to tell Hayden I’m Ana tonight.
I’ve got everything figured out. If I stick to three easy steps, I’ll be fine.
One: Grab the correct name tag. For real this time.
Two: Catch Hayden before classes start and tell him the truth.
Three: Don’t freak out about Step Two.
Alex is already wearing his name tag by the time I get back to the lounge. I find my badge and pin it to my own coat.
Step One: Done. That was easy.
Step Two requires patience. I lace up my skates, pretending to listen as Jen jokes with the other coaches.
Leaning forward, I arch my back and exhale. I wish I had some ginger. The thought of telling Hayden I’m a girl fills me with the same nerves I get at big competitions, but I’m determined. Step Three will not get the best of me.
I follow the instructors out of the lounge, eyes darting from bench to bench, then back to the badge on my jacket. It feels like there’s a spotlight on me, tracking my path.
I trail behind Alex, scanning the seating area.
No sign of Hayden.
I help students get onto the ice. When there’s no one left for me to assist, I reluctantly glide off to join Alex’s class.
I’ve imagined this moment for days, but Hayden isn’t here. This is something I didn’t plan for.
I follow behind Alex’s students as he leads them through a warm-up.
“Chin up, Priya,” I call as I skate past, then slow to demonstrate the proper arm position to Elsie. My eyes drift back to the entrance as Alex brings the class to a stop in the middle of the ice.
“Has anyone done a two-foot spin before?” A few students raise their hands. “Great. Does anyone want to demonstrate?” Their hands go down fast. Alex shoots me an amused look. “Then it’s a good thing we have our very own talented assistant. Ana?”
This is just the distraction I need. Stretching my arms out, I bend my knees, wind up, and pull my arms and feet toward my body.
“Pretty cool, right? Can you imagine doing that soon, Simone?” Alex winks at her. “How about you, Elsie?” Both girls blush as Alex continues to give technique tips. They must not have seen him and Myles together yet. Or maybe they have and it doesn’t matter. I make a mental note to tell Tamar. Either way, she’ll think it’s funny.
“Now, Ana,” Alex continues. “Just for fun, do a fast scratch spin.”
I’m off again. Soon I’m nothing but a dark blur of short hair, baggy instructor jacket, and black boot-cover fabric. The students fade away. For a moment, it’s just me, my blades, and the ice. I’ve missed this during the last couple of weeks of practice.
People clap as I finish—and not just the students from Alex’s class. Across the rink, Jen has paused her lesson. Her whole class watches in awe.
Even Hayden.
Our eyes lock and I lean back on my heels, almost losing my balance. He waves, then turns back to Jen.
Alex moves on, too. We have twenty minutes left, but they pass fast now that I know Hayden’s here.
“Back in a sec!” I call to Alex the minute he dismisses his class.
Step Two: time for a redo.
I swizzle past the cones separating Vic’s section from Jen’s, then stop. Hayden’s back is to me but he’s still on the ice. My stomach flips again as I study my name tag with a tucked chin.
One word. Eight letters. People see it and think they know my whole story. Ana-Marie equals girl.
Hayden thought the opposite, which isn’t right, either. But it definitely beats being seen as a princess.
My hand reaches
