Magnolia in May [H.S]

Part five

Magnolia

— -

Sweat drenches my head, drying almost instantly with each quick turn, I could just feel the sets of eyes on me. Even though the glass and blaring classical music.

Even so, it didn't affect my performance, I continued, swaying delicately to the notes. I focus on my breathing, blocking out the intrusion. In and out, again and again.

"Salchow! Come on triple!" My coach yells from the rails, her thick accent forming with the words.

Her reminder passes through my head, one ear out the other. I'm top-directed to hear her next words, and then the music is shut off. And only her voice fills the room. I glide backward, readying for a jump. Come to a halt when my mind registers the lack of music.

"Hey! Are you listening to me!" She shouts

"Sorry coach," I quip, dazing away with the fluorescent lighting. Slowing down and meeting her at the rails.

"I need you to be present," She points at the surrounding, moving her hands to the floor "Right now Meg you're somewhere, but not here."

"Yep..." I mumble, smoothing over the flyways over my cheeks.

"You have to master your triple salchow, okay?" Her eyes are tracking me, following mine.

"I know, I know. I already heard it from my dad 'you should already have this down when I was your age' blah, blah, blah. I'm workin' on it." I groan, his voice replaying in my head like a broken record. I fixate on the number of people in the stands regretting my tone.

"Is everything alright with you? You seem out of it." She tilts her head to meet my eyes, they fall faster to the floor. Avoiding her intent-ness.

"I'm fine, just slept like shit last night.." I lie

"You sure?" She raises her brows at me.

"Yes. I'm okay Lei." I snap, my irritability uncontrollably growing.

"Alrighty, ten-minute break then we start from the top?"

"Uh-huh."

I sit down in the stands, scrabbling to put the guards on my skates. Once I do I sprint out of the rink, the iciness leaving my nose as I enter the heated locker room.

With every second alone my heart pounds faster, harsher.

Breathe.

I suck in a breath, but it's as though the oxygen itself is choking the life outta me. A hand placed right on my windpipe, squeezing more aggressively with each in and out. Fingers curled, increasing tighter, tighter. Closing my supply off so drawn out, so selfishly.

My toes tremble, knees and thighs with it. I throw myself onto one of the harsh wooden benches. Desperately grasping at my cropped turtleneck and ripping it over my head, tossing it like a life-less rag-doll across the room.

Blurrily gazing down at my skin tight, leotard. Black stretching fabric strung along my body. My chest rises and falls hastily, unforgiving and brutal.

Breathe...

A panic arises, my body keeping up with the marathon my mind is running. Speeding over the hurdles, not talking even one teeny break to rest.

'You should have this down by now'

Without warning bile rushes up my throat, I scatter to the nearest bin. Unleashing a war out of my mouth. My body's reflex adding chills on top of my cold sweat. I stay hovered over the rubbage, relaxing my tensed shoulders back into place.