Breaking the Ice

24| After the Victory

Andrea

I wake up the next morning, sunlight spilling through my window, casting a warm glow over my room. The medal from the Snowpoint Winter Classic rests on my nightstand, its golden surface catching the light. I stare at it for a moment, a mixture of pride and exhaustion washing over me. It's a tangible reminder of everything I've worked for and everything I've overcome. The memory of my routine—the spins, the jumps, the triumphant applause—still plays in my mind, but it's softened now, leaving me with a deep sense of relief. I did it. I proved to myself that I was capable.

Sliding out of bed, I move through my morning routine with a lightness I haven't felt in months. The pressure that's been following me like a shadow is finally gone. I don't have to think about perfecting my next move or worrying about the competition. Today is just... today.

I pull on a black long-sleeve sweater with a Peter-pan collar and exposed white sleeves that peek out at the wrists. I pair it with light-wash, ankle-length flare jeans and slip into my white sneakers. After brushing on a few coats of mascara, a hint of concealer, and a touch of lip tint, I style my hair into a curled ponytail and secure it with a white bow. Looking in the mirror, I feel like myself again—no glittery competition outfit, no layers of stage makeup—just Andrea.

When I head downstairs, the smell of food wafts through the house. My mom, Amelia, is bustling in the kitchen, her energy vibrant and infectious. She's planned a small celebration with my closest friends—Kelsey, Arizona, Jackson, Carter, and Neveah—all of whom are already here, gathered around the table, greeting me with smiles and cheers as I walk in.

"Look who finally decided to join us!" Kelsey teases, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Hey, give me a break. I deserve a lazy morning after yesterday," I laugh, moving to greet everyone.

As we settle in, I notice the spread of Filipino dishes my mom has laid out—pancit bihon, lumpia Shanghai, chicken adobo, and a steaming bowl of sinigang na hipon (shrimp). She's been up early, making sure everything was perfect, even adding a selection of Filipino desserts to complete the feast. A platter of golden turon (banana spring rolls) glistens with caramelized sugar, alongside a tray of pastel-colored kutsinta topped with freshly grated coconut. There's also a large serving of leche flan, smooth and rich, its caramel surface gleaming under the kitchen lights.

Seeing my friends' delighted expressions as they dig in makes me feel a warm sense of pride. My mom's cooking isn't just food; it's a piece of home, a piece of who I am, and sharing it with the people I care about makes this day even more special. The mood is light, laughter echoing through the room as we reminisce about the competition and my friends shower me with congratulations. It feels so good to just relax, to be surrounded by the people who've supported me through everything.

Kelsey, never one to miss an opportunity to tease, looks at me with a smirk. "I told you one day off wouldn't kill you, and look at you—on top of the world!"

Neveah, sitting beside me, offers a shy smile, her honey-brown eyes sparkling with admiration. "You inspired me, Andrea. I hope I can be like you one day."

I smile back at her, feeling both proud and humbled. "You're already amazing, Neveah. Just keep pushing yourself, and you'll go far."

Arizona chimes in, glancing at Neveah with a grin. "She's right, Neveah. Andrea is someone to look up to."

Kelsey nods, her tone softer but no less enthusiastic. "And if you ever want skating tips, Drea's your girl. Plus, you can totally hang with us at school."

Neveah's cheeks flush a light pink as she smiles, clearly touched. "Thank you," she says quietly, glancing down at her plate.

The support and warmth from my friends wrap around me, and I feel a surge of gratitude. It's not just about the win; it's about this, about being surrounded by people who believe in me.