Chapter 8
"Nayeli." He called her name.
Nayeli stood up, walked around him, and headed straight for Yasser. "Mr. Laurent, thank you for speaking up for me just now."
She bowed slightly, her manner poised and unyielding.
Yasser looked down at her. "Your knee is bleeding."
Nayeli froze for a moment, glanced down, and saw that it was indeed bleeding again—a small dark red stain spreading across her pant leg.
"It's fine. Doesn't hurt."
Yasser's tone was flat. "For a figure skater, your legs are more important than anything else."
With that, he turned and left.
Fabian hurried after him, glancing back at Nayeli as he walked, signaling her to go get her wound treated.
Only Nayeli and Nehemiah remained in the duty room.
"Nayeli, you're coming home with me." Nehemiah's tone was cold. "Today you injured Miguel, scared Lucia so badly her condition relapsed, and made a complete mess of the Jennings family engagement. Don't you think that's enough chaos?"
Nayeli didn't even look at him.
Nehemiah's anger flared. He stepped forward. "What's your relationship with that Yasser guy? What does it look like, you getting so close to him? Are you two involved or something?"
Nayeli looked at him coldly. "Nehemiah, today was only the third time I've met Yasser."
"Third time and he's already defending you? And when did you start training again? I don't recall the family approving you continuing with skating."
"I don't need anyone's approval."
"You're being completely selfish! Lucia skates too—why do you have to compete with her over everything?"
Nayeli suddenly smiled. "Nehemiah, I have a question for you."
"What?"
"You all treat Lucia so well—are you all into her or something?"
Nehemiah's face turned ashen. "Nayeli! What are you saying?"
"She's supposedly your sister, but you treat her better than you treat me. If that's not ulterior motives, what is?" Nayeli's smile faded, her voice turning cold. "And when I was in the slums getting beaten half to death by my foster father, where were you?"
Nehemiah froze.
Nayeli didn't wait for an answer. She turned and headed toward the dorm. After a few steps, she stopped without turning around. "I'm never going back to the McCarthy family. From today on, I don't have a brother."
Nehemiah stood rooted to the spot, watching her figure disappear into the night, unable to say a single word.
By the time Nayeli left the infirmary, it was already dark.
Her knee had been rebandaged, and the doctor had given her two boxes of anti-inflammatory medication, warning her not to do any strenuous exercise for the next few days.
Nayeli murmured her acknowledgment and stuffed the medicine into her backpack.
As she turned the corner by the academic building, she saw Yasser.
He was leaning against a pillar in the hallway, flipping through a stack of brochures. His cap shadowed most of his face, revealing only the sharp line of his jaw.
At the sound of footsteps, he looked up. "All patched up?"
"Yeah." Nayeli walked over to him. "What brings you to our school?"
"Next month's national junior championships. I'm here doing outreach." Yasser handed her one of the brochures. "Your school has a few kids with decent potential. I came to check them out."
Nayeli took the brochure. The cover read "National Junior Figure Skating Championships" in bold letters.
"So how'd you end up at the duty room?"
"Heard a commotion." Yasser's tone was casual. "Just passing by."
Nayeli didn't call him out on it.
The administrative building and the academic building were separated by a field—no amount of 'passing by' would accidentally take someone to the duty room entrance.
But she didn't press.
"Seriously, thank you for today." Nayeli looked at him earnestly. "I owe you one."
Yasser glanced at her.
"If you really want to thank me, train hard." He paused. "Junior Grand Prix—I'll be waiting for you to bring home that gold."
Warmth flooded Nayeli's chest. "I will. I promise."
Yasser's gaze dropped to her knee. "You shouldn't be walking on that today."
"The dorm's right there. It's just a few steps."
Yasser said nothing more. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, holding it toward her.
Another candy.
An amber-colored hard candy, wrapped exactly like the one from this morning.
Nayeli blinked.
"You're still carrying candy around?"
"Hypoglycemia. I keep some on me." Yasser placed the candy in her hand. "You lost a lot of blood today. Your blood sugar's going to drop even lower."
Nayeli clutched the candy, an indescribable emotion welling up inside her.
In her past life, everyone had treated her like a burden. No one had been willing to spare even a second to care about her. And yet this man—a stranger she'd only met twice—remembered she had hypoglycemia.
"Thank you." Her voice came out a little hoarse.
Yasser glanced at her, then suddenly asked, "That new jump you're working on—how's it coming?"
Nayeli was caught off guard by the abrupt shift.
"Still figuring it out. There are a few details I haven't worked through yet."
"What details?"
Nayeli hesitated, then set down her backpack and pulled out a notebook. She flipped to a page covered in densely packed diagrams—breakdowns of movements and physics analyses.
"I want to add a combination jump after the triple axel." She pointed at the diagram. "Land the axel, then immediately go into a triple toe loop. But the landing curve and the take-off angle for the second jump are really hard to connect. I've tried it several times, but the landing's always unstable."
Yasser took the notebook and studied it carefully under the dim glow of the field lights.
His brow furrowed slightly. His long fingers tapped a specific spot on the diagram.
"Your center of gravity is too far forward." He said. "When you land the triple axel, shift your weight back two centimeters. Give yourself room for the second jump's take-off."
Nayeli leaned in to see, their heads nearly touching.
She caught the faint, cool scent clinging to Yasser—something like cedarwood mixed with mint.
"But if I shift my weight back, won't that make the landing less stable?" Nayeli frowned.
"Which is why your core strength needs to be stronger." Yasser handed the notebook back to her. "This combo is extremely difficult. No female skater in the country has pulled it off yet. If you can land it at the championships, you're basically guaranteed a spot on the national team."
Nayeli's eyes lit up. "You really think I can do it?"
Yasser looked at her. The lamplight fell into his pale gray eyes, like ice fracturing on a winter lake.
"If you can do a triple axel, you can do this combo." His tone was matter-of-fact. "You're the most talented female skater I've ever seen."
Nayeli froze.
No one had ever said that to her before.
At the McCarthy family, everyone had told her she had no talent. That her technique would never match Lucia's. That no amount of practice would ever make a difference. Over time, she'd started to believe it herself.
And now Yasser was telling her she was the most talented female skater he'd ever seen.
"But talent's one thing." Yasser's tone returned to its usual detachment. "Your stamina is terrible. You can barely get through a free skate program. It doesn't matter how strong your technique is if your endurance can't keep up."
"I'll work on it." Nayeli looked at him seriously. "I promise I'll get better."
Yasser studied the light in her eyes. The corner of his mouth seemed to twitch, but his expression quickly returned to neutral.
"All right, go rest." He turned toward the school gate, waving without looking back. "Next week at the training center. I want to see if you've made any progress."
Nayeli stood there, clutching the candy, watching him walk away.
The night stretched his shadow long across the pavement. The profile beneath his cap was cold and sharp-edged.
She suddenly realized that beneath his icy exterior, this man had a more attentive heart than anyone she'd ever known.
Nayeli unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth.
The same cool mint flavor, laced with just a hint of sweetness.
She looked up at the sky, and for the first time since her rebirth, she felt like maybe—just maybe—these days ahead wouldn't be so unbearable after all.
