10 – Rebel

An hour later

Maurey Nichols smiled at her young students as they improvised to “The Bear Necessities”, the song she had chosen for their group exhibition number. Oh yes, they were having fun. The song would stay. Oops, Dylan fell on his toe loop combination. That was ok, he'd get up and try again. And he nailed it. She nodded at him, and he beamed with pride. Then he went for it again.

Maurey loved her skaters' perseverance. Of course, at age nine or ten, they didn't possess the skills her older skaters did, skills which had sent them to the ER more than once as they practiced them. The little ones also fell from a shorter distance, which meant less bruising and less chance of a serious injury. She wondered if the enthusiastic tykes would be scared off by the sometimes gruesome accidents that had a high chance of happening at higher levels of skating.

The Six Pack sure weren't. But they were different, they were always supporting each other, and injuries were so much easier to overcome with a lot of support, some borrowed confidence, and a little contraband food. The spirit of competition, so obvious between other skaters, lacked inside this particular group. Being in direct competition with one another usually made friendships falter, but not this one. The six teenagers couldn't be happier for each other's achievements, and cheered each other on until that particular jump or spin finally came out right. Then they celebrated.

The group of skaters she had left in California hated each other to death. They were selfish and envious. To them, skating was a war, not a sport. When she had moved to Big Rock, Montana, seven years ago, Maurey had been reluctant to take on the six then-novice level skaters who were training together. She didn't want any more drama, sabotaged skates, and gossip. But the six kids were beyond her wildest dreams. They were best friends who skated together. No malice. No envy. No competition. Just the joy of practicing their sport together. They were Maurey's favourite skaters in the world – not that she'd let them know, they were the biggest divas anyway.

The horn of the Zamboni broke her train of thought. Fred, her husband, was bringing the surfacing machine to life, signaling her that the session was over. She gathered her skaters at center ice, they curtseyed, as was customary, and left the ice.

The Zamboni roared past her, leaving a smooth trail of ice behind it. Maurey grabbed the back of Harry's seat and let the machine lead her around the rink.

'Did you have a good session, hon?' he asked, reaching back to squeeze her hand.

'Yeah, the little ones seem to have settled for 'The Bear Necessities'. Can't wait to start on the choreography. Maybe the Six Pack will join in, the kids love working with them.'

'Speaking of the Six Pack,' said Fred, 'one of them is in rink B, blasting Metallica.'

Maurey sighed.

'Sounds like Craig. I told them to stay off the ice for the week. I'll go kick him out.'

Fred gave a chuckle.

'Remember how you used to punish those brats back in California, making them run extra laps?'

'Yeah, that doesn't work for these masochists... they all enjoy it. They'd run laps until they die, and still be happy. Sometimes I worry...'

'Yeah, honey, so do I. Go kick him out. I'll think of a way to make him stay out too, while you're out of town.'

'I don't know where I'd be without you,' she smiled, released her grip on the Zamboni, and left the ice.

Rink B was smaller and colder than rink A, but the Six Pack had a soft spot for it. During their first years of training, the tiny Big Rock ice rink was the best thing they knew. Then Maurey and Fred came along, and added a larger rink and some extra facilities to the building, turning it into Big Rock Ice Arena, a proper training complex.

Maurey entered the rink, immediately pulling her jacket closer to her body. They needed to replace the heating system in that damn rink. A flash of copper caught her eye. So the rebel was Jubilee. What was she up to?

Curiosity made Maurey take a seat at the top of the bleachers and watch her skater improvise to what sounded like Craig's selection of music. He was one for metal. The song ended, and Bon Jovi's 'It's my life' began. Maurey sat back and watched the effect rock music had on her rebel skater. It gave her a bit more energy, a bit more spunk, a certain feel that other types of music, be they more appropriate for her, didn't.

Double axel, good, footwork into lutz, and a controlled double. Good. Wait, double lutz? Was she being cautious? Jubilee was never one for caution. To her, jumping triples was as common as buying bread. She only jumped doubles if she had to – and she made sure everybody knew she wasn't happy about it. Layback spin – travelled a bit, but it was ok. She, however, pulled out of the spin, took a look out of the corner of her eye at the trace her blade had left during the spin, noticed the travel, and frowned. It wasn't good enough for the perfectionist she was. More footwork into a triple flip- oh dear, now that was a fall. Jubilee crashed on her side and slid a good few feet before she got back on her feet. And then she tried it again. A fall like that, thought Maurey, would have made anybody think twice about trying that element again. Hell, it would have made anybody think twice about getting back up. The second attempt at the triple flip was also a fail – she over-rotated the jump and fell on her stomach.

The flip was her best jump. What was wrong with Jubilee that day? Maurey watched her get up and try again, and this time she managed to land it – albeit rather shakily – on one foot. Apparently, the shaky landing was good enough, and she didn't try a fourth time. She grabbed her right hip and stopped at the rail for a few moments. So she was in pain. The coach made a note to ask her about her hip problem when she'd confront her about being on the ice. 'Neurotica' came on, and she began improvising again. She seemed comfortable with the song. Maybe she'd build an exhibition program on it later. Another fall, this time from a flying sit spin.

Maurey stood and walked down the stairs towards the rail. Her rebel skater should leave the ice before she hurt herself. A sheet of paper lying on the rail caught her eye, and she picked it up. Then everything became clear.

~*~

The music died in the middle of Jubilee's backspin, and she stumbled out of it in surprise. Heat rushed to her cheeks when she saw Maurey standing next to the rail, beckoning to her.

'I thought you were out of town!' was the first thing that escaped her lips, then she blushed even more and silently cursed herself for her lack of tact.

'I leave tonight.' said the coach sternly. 'And that doesn't justify you being on the ice. Get out.'

Jubilee glided to the rail, head hung low.

'Sorry.' she mumbled as she put the blade guards over her blades. 'I needed to...' she hesitated. '...sort out a few things.'

'Like this one?'

The skater's eyes found the sheet of paper her coach was holding, her face showed distress for a moment, then she walked to the nearest bench and sat down, head in her hands.

'Like that one,' she replied.

Maurey sat next to her.

'How's the hip?'

Jubilee cast a glance at her coach. 'How...' She bit her lip and changed the question. '...long have you been standing here?'

'Long enough,' was the woman's dry reply.

Jubilee's hand went to the painful hip in an unconscious motion. 'It hurts.'

'How long has it been bothering you?'

'Two weeks now.'

'And you didn't say anything?'

'You're already fussing over Mel's knee-'

This seemed to anger the woman.

'So what, an injury per group is the maximum I can handle?'

Jubilee cast a glance at her coach.

'Sorry. I should have told you.'

Maurey pointed to her skates.

'Take 'em off.'

Jubilee dutifully began to unlace her skates, then took each of them off, slid her feet into her boots, and proceeded to wipe the water off the blades.

It was a cathartic ritual for her, to sit by the rail after practice and wipe even the smallest traces of condensation off the smooth metal, as her tired muscles slowly loosened up, and the pain induced by the falls dulled. Along with the droplets of water, she would wipe away worries, fear, and anger caused by failed elements, and she would leave the rink feeling better.

But right then, the wiping of the blades didn't have that effect. It had no effect at all. For a few long moments, the only sound in the vast, cold space was the faint swishing of terrycloth over steel.

Maurey broke the silence.

'Remember when you were nine? You had just seen Peter Pan, and wanted to skate as Peter so badly...'

Jubilee gave a chuckle and ran a finger over the sharp edges of one blade, then put the dry skate in her bag and started wiping the other one.

'Yeah, but one of the older boys had already claimed Peter for Regionals, and they were teasing me saying “Peter Pan is a boy, you're just a little girl, go skate to Snow White!”, even though in Disney on Ice Peter is always skated by a girl.'

Maurey gave a nostalgic smile.

'And you kept saying “I'm no Disney princess!” and were pouting all the time...'

'So you brought me the music from “Hook” and asked me if I wanted to skate as Tinker Bell. I was so offended!' Jubilee gave a short laugh. 'Then you told me I was magical. Just like her. And that argument somehow worked, because I accepted... I still have that little green dress at home.' She paused and sighed. 'Things were so simple back then...'

'Jubilee, look at me.'

She put the second skate in her bag and looked at her coach.

'You... have an amazing opportunity. You can go further with your academics than you can with your skating.'

Maurey stopped talking and looked at her lap.

'Just say it,' said Jubilee, sensing her hesitation.

'It hurts to say this, but odds are you will never be a champion. The skating world is all about little girls with big jumps, and you're not a little girl any more, nor are your jumps big enough. You're a wonderful athlete, but...'

'But I'm not that good,' she interrupted grimly. 'I get it.'

Maurey nodded.

'I'm sorry to lose such a good skater, but don't let this sport hold you back from having a great career and a wonderful life. Go.'

Jubilee drew in a deep breath, then cleared her face of all emotion – Maurey had seen her do that before competitions, when her nerves were in danger of getting the best of her. It always took her 24 seconds to compose herself – Maurey had counted on several occasions – but at the end of those 24 seconds, nothing could touch her any more.

'Thanks for the advice, coach,' she said, her voice devoid of emotion. She reached over and hugged the woman, then stood, slung her skate bag over her shoulder, and left.

~*~

Chad heard a door slam and looked up from his newspaper, to see his sister walk in his direction, her face blank, eyes staring at the floor.

'How did it-'

'I'm going.'

His eyes widened in surprise, and he opened his mouth to speak.

'Not a word,' she said quickly. He nodded, stood, put his arm around her shoulders, and walked her out of the ice rink. She didn't look back.