Fragmented Snow Chapter 4

Chapter 4
“So you picked your music?” Yuri asked as he gently pushed down on Clara’s back, helping her stretch.

“For the short program at least,” Clara hooked her fingertips onto her toes. “I’m dedicating this season to Poppo, I want it to be perfect. Something worthy of a gold medal.”

“What’s the song?”

“Once Upon a December. An instrumental version of it.”

“What’s the theme you’re going with?”

“Hm...Not quite sure yet.” Clara switched legs. “I pick the music then come up with a theme.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yuri stated.

They finished their stretches as Yakov, Victor and Yuuri entered the rink. The husbands were playfully chatting, or flirting, maybe both. Probably both. Clara put on her skates, making sure they were snug. She zipped up her jacket and took a deep breath. Today was her first official day with Victor as her coach. She pulled up the song on her phone, ready to present it to him, and marched toward the couple. Her guards clacking against the rubber covered floor.

“Good morning, Victor,” she greeted, rather stiff and formal.

“Good morning, Clara,” Yuuri smiled.

“Get a good night’s rest?” Victor asked.

Clara nodded. “I did. I picked the music for my Short Program.” She offered her phone and headphones. Victor listened to the music, his face stoic as the song played. Clara bit her lip.

“Hm. It’s not a unique choice, but it’s the performance that counts. What about your free skate?”

“Ah. Well… I’m still figuring out the music for that one.” She scratched her nose.

Victor pursed his lips and her heart sank a bit. He didn’t seem all that enthusiastic. “Well, we can start with the Short Program then.” He returned the phone to Clara. “I looked at your past performances. Your step sequences are masterful and your spins are polished. Your jumps need a lot of work. You’re inconsistent with your landings. Can you land any quads?”

“No. I’ve been working on a Quad Axel, though.”

“Not surprising,” Yakov stated gruffly. “Most female skaters have trouble with quads.”

Clara’s eyebrow twitched. ”I mean quads are difficult for most skaters. Wouldn’t be much fun if everybody could land them. I’m sure I can land it with enough practice.”

“There’s no need for that right now,” Victor said. “We’ll start with fundamentals then we can work out the choreography.” He smiled a sultry smile to Yuuri, who was doing his stretches. “I’ll start with Yuuri today.”

Clara nodded. She removed her guards and stepped onto the ice. She started gliding, starting with a few laps to warm up her legs. She couldn’t tell if Victor was helping Yuuri with his stretches or trying to undress him. She huffed. She wasn’t sure what to expect out of Victor as a coach. Why did she take his offer? Why did he even want to coach her? ‘Poetry in motion’, that’s what he referred to her skating as. What did that even mean? What did he want out of her?

“Hey,” Yuri skated up beside her, the sound of his blades on the ice bringing her out of her own head.

“So is this a regular thing? The displays of affection,” Clara asked. They were rather handsy and flirty the other night when they suddenly showed up at her apartment to make dinner. Not that she minded, she would have been way too tired to cook for herself. Could have gone without the PDA, though.

“Yeah. You’ll get used to it. Should have seen them after they got married. Couldn’t get them apart.”

“Gag inducing, I assume.”

“You have no idea,” Yuri huffed. “So what’d he think?”

“I don’t think he was impressed.” She shrugged, trying to shake off her doubt. “I mean, many people have skated to that music before. I think he wanted something with more flair.”

“Victor likes to surprise people.”

“I’ve noticed. I can handle it though,” Clara stated more for herself than for anything else.

“Hm..Well, good luck with that.”

Eventually Yuri split off to train with Mila, Georgi and Yakov. Clara occupied her time practicing her spins and doing figures. She looked over at Yuuri and Victor. Whether the Russian man was correcting Yuuri’s posture or copping a feel, she really couldn’t tell. Victor seemed to be a rather hands-on sort of coach.

“Your leg is looking sloppy,” Victor stated as he glided over. Clara straightened her leg. He gave a short nod of approval. “Better.”

“About the short program,” Clara said as she switched blades. “I wanted to do it sort of like a waltz.”

“A waltz?”

“As in ballroom dancing.” She turned and looped around Victor.

Victor tapped his chin then gave a quick nod. “We can work with that. Why a waltz?”

“Can’t do a foxtrot on ice,” Clara said simply. “Believe me, I’ve tried. Toe-pick gets in the way. Plus a waltz suits the music better.”

Victor chuckled. “I see you’ve already started the choreography.”

“I don’t use music unless I can see myself skating to it.”

“Seems like you’re putting yourself in a box with that way of thinking.” He pursed his lips as he closed his eyes. Clara looped back. “I got it.” His eyes opened, sparkling with inspiration. “I’ll pick the music for your Free Program.”

“Wait what?”

“You’re having trouble picking another song, right? So I’ll pick the music and work on the basic routine.” He nodded in satisfaction. “I’m going to get you out of that little box of yours.” Clara bit her lip. It wasn’t uncommon for coaches to pick their skaters’ music, but Clara was more collaborative in her approach. Heather, her former coach, had brought many songs and scores to her attention during their time together. She had used some of them, but only after constant goading from her coach. Perhaps Victor had a point though. Maybe she was in a box? She didn’t want to stagnate. Not now. “If you can pick something better, I will choreograph the routine with you.” She broke from the figure eight and skated up to Victor. He offered his hand. “Deal?”

She met Victor’s gaze and nodded. “Alright then.” She took his hand. Firmly squeezing it. “When’s the deadline?”

“Thursday. Until then we can work on your Short Program.”

“Fair enough.” They shook hands.

Practice went quickly. Clara started by showing Victor the waltz like step sequence she had in mind to open the routine. He seemed to be intrigued, but not fully onboard. He decided to have her work on her spins and jumps. She landed her triple axels well enough as well as the lutz. By the time practice was over her body was aching and her feet were throbbing.

Clara sharply inhaled as she removed her skates and changed her socks. No blood today which was nice. She rubbed her feet before putting on a fresh pair. She took the towel out of her bag and thoroughly wiped them down to remove any moisture before putting the rubber guards on.

“Hey Clara,” Mila called as she walked into the locker room. “What are your plans tonight?”

“Hot bath and unpacking while picking music,” Clara said blankly.

Mila pouted. “That sounds dull.”

“Did you have something else in mind?” Clara started putting her shoes on, loosely tying the laces.

“A night on the town? You are new here, you should get to know the city. The boys are pretty cute.”

Clara chuckled. “I’m sure they are, Mila.”

“Just a few drinks. Maybe some dancing. Nothing crazy, I promise.”

Clara stood up. “Fine. I’ll meet you. Where’d you have in mind?”

“Griboedov, it’s in the central district. I’ll text you the address. Wear something cute and be there by seven.”

“Alright. See you then.” Clara waved and walked out of the locker room.

“Hey, you need a ride?” Yuri asked. Half his face was obscured by is fair, blonde hair as it was free from the ponytail he wore during practice. If it weren’t for his love of leopard print, leather, and studs he’d present himself as an angel. “You ran here this morning, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll give you a ride back to your apartment.”

“You have a car?”

“Something like that.” Yuri smirked, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat, and headed to the parking lot.

“When did you get a motorcycle?” Clara gasped.

“About a month ago. Bought it as a birthday present to myself,” Yuri handed her a helmet. “Otabek taught me during his last visit. I took a few classes and got my license.”

“Watch out Russia, the Punk has a license,” Clara teased as she put on the helmet.

“Got that right.” Yuri got on the bike and started it up. He put on his sunglasses and looked to her. Her heart skipped a beat as she got on the seat behind him. “Hold on.”

Clara grabbed Yuri’s waist only to find herself clinging to him as he turned onto the road from the parking lot where he revved the engine and they started gunning it down the road. She dug her fingers into his leather coat as he weaved through the maze of cars. This driving would scare the crap out of even the most seasoned Chicago cab driver. She swore they had ran a red light. Clara squeezed her eyes shut. He was definitely taking an alternate route to her apartment. A very alternate route. The bike finally came to a stop and Clara managed to peel her arms off of him.

“Thanks for the ride,” she wheezed. Apparently she was holding her breath for a while. She got off the bike and removed her helmet.

“No problem,” Yuri turned off the bike. He adjusted his sunglasses. “I live nearby, if you need a ride, just text me or something.”

“I’d need your number first.” She dug her phone out of her bag. She pulled up the contacts and a blank entry. Clara offered the phone to Yuri who quickly entered his number and saved the contact before handing it back. Clara him a quick text, a simple emoticon. “I’m meeting up with Mila later at a club. You can join us if you’re interested.”

“I spend enough time with her on the ice,” Yuri stated simply.

“Ha...Right, well...Thanks for the ride, Yuri. I’ll see you later.” She gave Yuri his spare helmet and went up to her apartment.

Clara kicked off her shoes upon walking through the door and slipping into her fuzzy slippers. She hung her keys on the hook by the door and placed her bag by the door to the water closet. Upon stepping into the kitchen, she started the coffee maker going and grabbed a protein bar from the box she kept next to the appliance. She then went to her bedroom and went to close the curtains, pausing to look at the street below. Yuri’s motorcycle was gone. She closed the curtains. She removed her clothes and bundled them under her arm. Clara dropped the wad of clothing into the hamper outside the water closet as she grabbed a fresh set of towels. She walked into the bathroom and started filling the tub. She eased herself into the steaming water and closed her eyes. The warmth sunk into her muscles, relaxing them and relieving her aches. She turned off the water once the tub was full enough and she took her time washing herself. Nothing like a hot bath after a long day of practice.

She sighed. A night in sounded really inviting, but Mila did have a point. Back in Chicago, her pool of friends was rather limited. Practically non existent when you took out her coach and the staff at the rink. Clara messaged her conditioner through her hair. Maybe she had put herself in a box without knowing. That was part of the reason she came to Russia, right? For a fresh start? Inspiration? Getting back to her roots? After everything settled down back in Chicago she found herself with an itch which she remedied with leaving her coach and packing her life up to move to the other side of the world.

Clara rinsed off and wrapped her hair up in a towel before wrapping the other around her body. She put her robe on and walked to the kitchen. She poured the coffee into her mug and picked up her phone. Her contact list was short as most of the numbers she needed were no longer needed. She hesitated, but hit call in the end.

The phone rang a few times before a groggy voice answered. “Who is it?”

“Hi Heather,”  Clara said sheepishly. “Sorry it took so long to call.”

“Clara! No, no it’s fine. I’m sure the trip took a lot out of you.” Heather sounded much more awake now. “Today was your first day under Yakov, right? How’d it go?”

“Yeah… About that.”

“You better not be quitting. Not after this past season.”

“No, no. I’m not quitting,” she took a deep breath. “So as it turns out...Yakov isn’t my coach.”

“Excuse me? Did that grumpy old fart change his mind?”

“Kind of…? I mean he’s not my coach, but I do have one. I didn’t know about it until a few days ago.” She sipped her coffee.

“Who’s your coach then? Not many to pick from out of Saint Petersburg.”

“Victor.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Victor Nikiforov.” There was a pause.

“Well shit.” Heather muttered. There was silence again. “Well...if he’s your coach I’m sure you’ll win gold this year. Goddamn, Clara do you know how lucky you are?”

“I have a pretty good idea. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“I bet.” Heather sighed. “Clara, I want you to know that I’m still going to support you even if I’m not your coach anymore. There are no hard feelings at all. I just want you to skate your best.”

Clara’s throat tightened. “Thanks Heather.”

“Do me a favor.”

“Depends on the favor.”

“I want you to skate circles around them. Show them the Chicago grit.”

Clara chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will. Listen, I have to go. Next time we’ll just facetime. God knows what this going to do to my bill.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no. It was nice to hear from you. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later.”

Clara put her phone down and took another sip of coffee. Heather’s favor echoed in her mind as she smiled as her doubt disappeared for the time being. She checked the time. She still had a few hours until she had to meet Mila at the club.