In and out, hold and release, back and forth and around and- shIT
Turning out of her jump, Alicia collapsed on the ice, hissing a bit as her ankle twisted. Waving off her worried coach, she tried to stand, to continue practicing her routine, but her ankle wobbled something fierce and she ended up on the cold ice again. Fuck, seriously? This didn’t feel like a sprain, it had to just be a temporary twist, but it smarted enough to keep her off of her feet and that wasn’t fucking cool. She had to land the triple axel in her program if she wanted to get enough points to progress through the season, but every single time she ended up like this.
Aggravated, she kicked at the ice with the pick on her skate, the satisfying tch mollifying her...to a degree. As a medic skated on, Alicia accepted their help up off the rink, untying her skate so they could examine her ankle. It wasn’t swollen or red or bruised, and there were no breaks. It really was just a fucking annoying twist from her embarrassing botched landing. Dammit, she had to get better than this, how else would she go on to win Nationals, or compete at worlds? Or maybe even go to the Olympics, sporting that white and red of her country, specially issued maple leaf gloves to commemorate the occasion.
But that was all a joke if she didn’t learn how to land a triple freaking axel, how damn hard could it be? Salchows were fine, toe loops were her favourite, and her double axel was shaky when she had first started, but she wasn’t a kid anymore. Alicia was 20, she only had a few more years before she’d be too damn old for this, provided she didn’t get any career ending injuries before then.
It was then that she came to a decision. She was going to make triple axels her bitch.
