Page 64 of Wonderstruck

Aspen's hands clasped my shoulder asshe sat me back down, her laugh weavingthrough the moment as she took a peek towards the rink, then back at me. “You’ll be fine. For the first minute, they’re watching the little ones skate, and then by the time your solo comes up you’ll have been back on the ice long enough to forget what you were even nervous about.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Can I get that inwriting?”

Her laugh was light and airy, everythingI wasn’t feeling yet. “You’re a star, Rory. Just like your Mom.” She nodded at me, while her hands slipped into mine. “I wouldn’t have told you that you could try and compete if I didn’t believe in you. So believe in yourself. Like you used to.”

She squeezed my hands one last time,right before she slipped them out androse to her feet, clapping for the attention of the room. “Okay Team Oz! Listen up!” All the little skaters gathered around, some dressed as munchkins, some with giant lollipops, and the rest as the main characters of the story. “Everything you’ve worked on since we’ve been back has all been leading up to this moment. Remember to keep your arms tucked in on your turns, your crossovers fluid, and if you fall, keep those beautiful smiles right where they are, because you can always recover. Now let's get lined up!”

I had no time to gather my thoughtsbefore the changing room became a mobof cutely dressed eight-year-olds trying to remember which number in the lineup they were. I didn’t have that problem, because I was leading them out. The mere thought that I’d be the first person the audience saw was enough for me to pull at the edges of my skirt, tug the ends of my braids, anything to distract me from the overwhelming urge to sink inside myself and hide away.

But I had to pull it together. I’d felt thisway before performing with Bindi andthe other Lionesses, in front of a packed rink, my ex-boyfriendandFinn. And the second that was over I wanted to do it again.

Before I could even wonder if hewas here, with the others, the lights went out. Aspen appeared from thin air, waiting to open the gate for us all to skate out.I stood up straight, gently closing myeyes as I breathed in, holding the air inmy lungs for one second, two, before I heard the gate click. My eyes opened slowly, and without another thought, I stepped onto the ice, leading the line behind me until I was on my mark, looking out onto a crowd I couldn’t see thanks to the spotlights.

Something about that made me relax,until my eyes drifted down to the judge'stable, their eyes scanning us. But all I did was smile.

No going back now.

My heart thumped as the opening notes of the music filled the rink. Junie andfew of the others began to whirl around the cardboard Munchkin Land, bobbing up and down in time with the notes. I stayed hidden, behind a cardboard fence, watching them nail every move.

After a while, the music shifted, gentleand familiar, the first notes ofSomewhere Over the Rainbowswelling through the speakers.Something inside me unlocked, and Imoved thoughtlessly to the centre of therink. The first few moves were simple arm stretches, single turns and character, but when the lyrics came, I began to move. And to my surprise, the routine flowed through me effortlessly—like I’d had it memorised for years.

With my arms reaching gracefully aboveme, I slowed into my turn, the cool airbrushing against my face as I crossed over, gliding with a fluidity I hadn’t felt in what felt like forever. The firstaxel came—one swift, practised motion. I tucked my arms, feeling the rush of air as I was suspended in time, weightless, and then the soft thud of landing smoothly.

Perfectly.

The distant applause felt muffled in myears, as though I’d plugged them before stepping out here.

Next came the toe-loop that I’d hadnightmares over. But I breathed, and replayed what Aspen had whispered to me before the show started.

Believe in yourself. Like you used to.

I trusted my instincts as I dug my toe-pick into the ice, not thinking when Icommitted to do a double loop instead of the single as we’d rehearsed. But when the roar of the crowd hit me, clearer this time, and I realised I was still skating, and not sprawled across the ice, I knew I did it.

I landed a double.

From there on out it was pure pride thatmoved me, ebbing through my body,to my stretched fingertips as I spun and the tips of my skates as I leapt. I’d forgotten all about the judges. They were out of my mind entirely. Because I wasn’t skating for them. I was doing this for myself. I was doing this to be happy again.

Remembering that made a smile beamacross my mouth, and I lifted my legand glided into one final spin, tucking every part of myself in tighter to spin as fast as I could. I held my breath as I released everything, eventually slowing down and moving backwards to meet the rest of the skaters, the multicoloured lights blinding me as the finale soared.

Theroutine ended in a flurry of spins andjumps, and as the music faded, the rink erupted into applause. My cheeks blushed, from what I wasn’t sure. My heaving chest was probably one reason, but most of it came from the warmth of the crowd's cheers and the smile stuck on my face.

I skated off the ice as the noise dieddown, breathless but still grinning. It didn’ttake long for the room to become a rush of little laughs and giggles and gossiping about what went well and what didn’t.After a gulp of water, I slipped my bladeguards over my skates, my breaths finally steadying. The adrenaline buzzed in my veins, but I needed to see them—to hear what they thought. I headed toward the stands, scanning the crowd, when—

“Rory!”

I turned, and there they were. Goldie,Cora, and Daisy, practically glowing asthey waved me over. Something in my chest twisted, and before I could stop it, my eyes prickled with a familiar sting. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the sheer weight of the last four minutes replaying in my head. Or maybe it was just the sight of them, my friends, smiling like I’d just won gold at the Olympics.

They ran over, throwing their arms around me all at once, and I let out a laughthat was half a sob. Their warmth pressed into me, grounding me in reality.

When they finally pulled back, I wiped at my face and smoothed my skirt,trying to shake off the wave of emotion. “Was it okay?”

“Okay?” Goldie stared at me like I’dgrown a second head. “Rory, it was incredible.”

“Those jumps…” Daisy shook her head,her grin widening and curls bouncing. “Are you even human?”

Cora gave a dramatic sigh. “I couldn’t blink. Literally. My eyes hurt.”

“And I think I’ve been playing the wrongice sport, becausethatlooked fun.” Jesse chimed in, stepping forward from the shadows and towering over the moment. “Although I’m not sure Burton would appreciate it if I was leaping after scoring.”

---