Chapter 11Mahiro stows his skates in his locker and clangs it shut, clips on the lock, and pushes his way through the door back into the main lobby. The young juniors, those just starting their competitive careers, are chattering and laughing as they gather all of their gear—skates, gloves, jackets—and stuff it into ridiculously oversized skate bags with light-up wheels that every single parent has managed to buy them.
“Thank you again, Mr. Seta!” Elena calls and waves from her perch on the bench across the lobby. Elena is twelve years old and finally able to compete, and Mahiro just gave her, her parents, and her coach what they all hope is a successful debut program, set to a gently lilting recording of Liszt’s Liebesträume.
Mahiro waves in return and quirks the corner of his mouth at
