Zoey's POV

The announcement about the qualifying round came through at exactly 1:08 PM on Friday afternoon.

I was having lunch with Ophelia in the cafeteria when she glanced at her phone and suddenly looked up. "Did you see the notification? The regional qualifiers got moved up to this Sunday. They're confirming the final roster for the National Junior Championships on Monday."

"Yeah."

My tone was flat. Ophelia looked even more surprised. "Describe your current emotional state using one to three adjectives."

I thought for a moment. "Panicked. Very panicked. Extremely panicked."

Ophelia couldn't see any of those emotions on my face. She grabbed my arm. "Come on, let's go to the rink."

When I got nervous, I trained non-stop. It was just my way.

Octavia arrived twenty minutes earlier than scheduled. Every team member was already training on the ice.

Early training sessions should have been a good thing, but there wasn't a hint of a smile on Octavia's face.

"You should have all received the notification by now. Qualifiers have been moved up to this Sunday."

Her voice was ice-cold.

"I thought I'd have three skaters qualify this year, but the training quality over the past week has shown me I was dreaming."

"A nightmare."

No one dared make a sound. Under Octavia's gaze, we silently began our drills.

Her critiques started echoing across the rink, one after another.

"What are you doing? Your triple loop landing looks like a penguin getting electrocuted!"

"Your spin speed is slower than my grandmother's wheelchair."

"Good thing you chose skating. If you'd gone into music, someone who can't even count beats would just embarrass their teacher. Of course, I'm pretty embarrassed right now too."

The rink was shrouded in oppressive tension. Everyone had to perform in front of Octavia, then endure her scathing commentary.

When it was my turn to skate my free program, I took several deep breaths.

Octavia's earlier critiques, Lawrence's attitude toward me, Florence's behavior—I pushed it all out of my mind. I just wanted to nail this triple.

I struck an arabesque position in the center of the ice, then began my performance.

Building speed. Crossovers. Triple.

My mind ran through every detail from past training sessions—center of gravity, landing timing, takeoff, rotation amplitude. As I mentally checked off each point, my performance came to an end.

I finished with a slow, graceful bow, my blade stopping cleanly on the ice with no extra movement.

I kept my head down, bracing for Octavia's storm of criticism.

Octavia stood at the boards, silent.

Everyone looked at her.

"After a five-minute break, everyone except Zoey will run through their programs for me again."

She spoke suddenly. Maybe I was imagining it, but her tone seemed slightly softer.

I was about to start some free practice when she called out to me.

"Zoey."

I skated over.

"Your acceleration point on that final camel spin was half a beat late." She scrolled through notes on her tablet. "Debussy probably doesn't want to meet another person who can't count beats."

"On your landing, you didn't hold your center of gravity over the right back outside edge long enough, which cut short the line of your raised-arm position. You need to hold it for one point five seconds."

Octavia analyzed my issues based on the video footage.

I was somewhat taken aback. Compared to her earlier comments, this sounded almost like praise.

"Understood, Ms. Cranston."

Octavia put away her tablet and looked at me seriously.

"Your condition has been all over the place this past week. I don't care about the reasons, but I need you to hold it together when it counts. Your program component scores have always been an advantage over your peers, but your technical score weaknesses are too obvious."

"If you can't steady yourself mentally, your scores will disappoint me greatly."

I said nothing, but I was certain—Octavia was actually complimenting me this time.

"For the National Junior Championships, your current position is 'on the bubble.' Not 'no chance,' but 'on the bubble.' The difference between those two is that zero-point-three-second control after your landing."

I stood there, my heart racing wildly. I had a shot.

"Thank you, Ms. Cranston."

"Don't thank me. Thank your brain for showing up today. I hope you remember that one point five seconds."

After she walked away, I looked down at the skates on my feet. I could almost see hope glimmering there.

Just then, my phone buzzed.

Lawrence: [I'm in the parking lot. I don't want to forget to pick you up again.]

I looked at the message and couldn't help smiling.

Lawrence really seemed to be changing. I didn't need to make excuses for him anymore.

When I walked out of the rink, I saw Lawrence standing by his car. He opened the door for me, and after I got in, he handed me a coffee.

"Matcha latte. No ice. Light sugar."

Just how I liked it.

"You were on time today," I said, trying to sound casual.

"I swear I set an alarm." Lawrence cupped my hands in his, completely serious. "I know I've let you down before. But I won't keep doing that."

I didn't respond, but I could feel the flutter of joy inside.

Tonight he was picking me up to go to the Ashcroft mansion, to meet his parents.

Standing at Lawrence's front door, my heart was pounding harder than before a competition.

Besides meeting his parents, there was also the person Lawrence respected most.

Gavin.

The door opened.

Lawrence's mother, Natalia Ashcroft, greeted me with enthusiasm written all over her face as she grabbed my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Zoey! You're even prettier than your photos!"

"Nice to meet you too, Aunt Natalia." My voice came out nervously, but at least it didn't shake.

"Come in, come in, it's freezing out there."

She pulled me inside. Lawrence's father, Adam Ashcroft, poked his head out from the kitchen, his smile equally warm. "Zoey, have a seat. Lawrence mentioned you love ribs—I'll have them ready in just a minute."

"Hello, Uncle Adam."

"Hi, Zoey! I've been wanting to meet you."

The living room wasn't large, but it was warmly decorated. I glanced around—I still hadn't seen Gavin.

"Where's Gavin?" Lawrence asked his mother.

"Upstairs. Said he had a conference call. He'll be down soon." Natalia poured me some tea and brought over a fruit plate.

Their warmth made me somewhat uneasy.

A few minutes later, Gavin Ashcroft appeared. The moment he started down the stairs, Lawrence spotted him.

"Gavin! Done with your meeting? Come over, let me introduce you."

His gaze shifted our way, but instead of responding to Lawrence, he addressed Adam and Natalia.

"Dad, Mom, need any help?"

Lawrence gave me an awkward smile, his hand gripping mine tightly.

Natalia waved Gavin over. "Your dad's almost finished. Come sit. This is Lawrence's girlfriend, Zoey. Zoey, this is Gavin."

He sat in the chair across from me, finally looking at me.

I was so nervous. This was my first time meeting him. My palms started sweating.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello, Gavin."

He gave a slight nod, then turned his attention to the dishes on the table.