On Top of Glass by Karina Manta

Author:Karina Manta [Manta, Karina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2021-10-19T00:00:00+00:00

20

First and Second Kisses

During my first year of skating with Joe, I decided to take a step away from the world of academics. Unlike a lot of skaters I knew, who were homeschooled throughout large portions of their careers, I attended high school full-time. (My parents were pretty adamant about the importance of education, which is something I never fully appreciated until I got older.) I had always been a really good student, but sometimes I struggled to find a balance between my grades and my competitions. I got panic attacks before big tests. I stayed up entire nights completing essays because I couldn’t bring myself to sleep until they were done. When high school ended, I wanted to focus most of my energy on my Olympic aspirations, and my parents agreed to let me take a break.

So I did what a lot of teenagers do: I took a gap year.

Without the constant burden of homework, my days quickly grew busy with other tasks. I boosted my off-ice training routine—adding more dance classes and workouts to my schedule—and I took on a part-time job at a day care to help cover some of my training costs. Looking after children still didn’t come naturally to me, but the job offered flexible hours, and I was slowly getting the hang of caring for myself and others.

At the outset of the season, my potential growth seemed borderless. With a new partner, a new coaching team, and a new schedule, I was sure that international competitions and gold medals were just beyond my sight lines.

But despite the optimism that I entered the season with, my partnership with Joe kept toppling into major bumps. When my broken rib healed, I suffered another injury, which would devastate our prospects for the summer competitions. At practice one day, Joe and I collided in a forceful and violent instant. I buckled to the ice, clutching my leg. As I peeled my fingers away from my tights, blood laced its way to the floor in slow beads. I looked down to see a horrifying set of Jackson Pollock drips against the ice. Joe’s blade had sliced deep into one of my knees.

When we arrived at an urgent care, a nurse rushed me into a room. The doctor informed me that I had been cut all the way down to my bone. Joe held my hand while the doctor stitched the halves of my flesh back together.

I returned to practice the very next day because I didn’t want my injury to be the reason we weren’t named to Team USA. Perhaps someone should have stepped in. Maybe someone should have told me to rest, or told me that getting hurt wasn’t my fault, or told me that I would have a career full of so many other chances—but nobody told me that, so I clenched my jaw, and I tried to continue as if my life wasn’t being held together by sixteen tiny threads. Letting myself be soft was much easier said than done.

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