Rinkmates: Chapter 10
“Can you believe they got all these stars for the show?”
Priya takes a deep breath, her eyes shining with excitement as we stand at the back of the busy training room. We gaze at some well-known influencers, as well as actors and singers who used to be popular but haven’t been in recent years.
I’m a little starstruck since I listen to Mara Jane’s songs on a daily basis and now she’s standing close to me, talking to me as if it were normal.
For the past couple of days, Priya and I have been hitting the ice rink hard.
Thankfully, Nina hooked us up with member cards, which got Priya in for free too. Nina’s generosity saved us a ton, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
The best part?
Riley’s been MIA for three whole days with zero communication, giving Priya and me the perfect excuse to have a blast at his penthouse. Of course, I got his go-ahead before inviting her over. Keeping her from rummaging through his things was a real challenge though, but I think I finally have monster Priya under control. We also developed an unhealthy addiction to Riley’s fridge, particularly the ice cube function, while binging one romance movie after another on his streaming accounts. There are definitely perks to having money. Is a hot tub and a balcony the size of two trailers necessary? Absolutely not.
But it’s incredibly convenient when you want to soak and belt out Spice Girls songs with your friend under the open sky without anyone watching.
“Yeah, I’m curious about who they’ll match us up with.” I shake out my limbs as I stand in front of the wall-mounted barre.
I firmly grasp the polished wooden handle and lift my foot, stretching out my leg to warm up for my routine. There’s this familiar burn in my leg, and I can’t wait to show my new routine. Getting back on the ice regularly feels amazing.
“I hope I’m paired with Mason Stone,” Priya says, folding her hands as if she’s praying to God.
“What’s so special about him?” I ask, stretching my other leg on the ballet barre. Stacey catches my eye as she finishes stretching at the other end of the studio. Rumor has it she’s already flirting with some stars to make sure she’ll get a good partner—apparently, she wants some guy named Aiden.
“Liora! Have you seen him? He’s absolutely gorgeous!” Priya brings me back to reality.
“Who?”
She clicks her tongue. “Mason Stone!”
She nods toward the back of the room and I lean over slightly to steal a glance at the blond actor.
He looks like Prince Charming…if he was secretly a villain.
It’s like we’re divided into two groups. The skaters and the stars.
Grace and her team cast the stars back in October, and now they’re looking to narrow down the field and pair us up after today’s final casting round.
It’s crucial that we get along with our partners because this show is a bit different from the ice dancing shows that are already out there. We don’t have coaches to guide us. Each team is responsible for creating their own routines. So, it’s not just about ice-skating skills—being a good choreographer is equally important. That’s why they’re paying such close attention during these initial casting rounds.
Mason saunters over to Stacey, offering her tips on her stretches as if he’s the expert. I cringe, but Stacey laughs—not a genuine laugh, but one that seems aimed at getting his attention. They’d make a perfect match. I think he was in a popular soap opera, but after the show ended, he sort of vanished from the spotlight. Maybe he’s hoping this reality show will be his big comeback.
“Nah, he’s absolutely not my type.”
Priya pouts. “You only say that because you have Riley.”
“I don’t have Riley.”
“TikTok says something else.”
“S-sorry, but did you say Riley?”
Patricia, another skater who seemed rather shy last time, approaches us cautiously. She has bronze skin and a brown ponytail that she nervously twirls around her finger, as if gathering the courage to talk to me took all her strength.
“Is it true that you…live with—with Riley Huntington?”
I swallow.
All this attention because of one stupid video on social media?
This can’t be real. The clip is seven seconds long. Seven. Stupid. Seconds. But now, everyone and their dog is asking me if I’m his girlfriend. It happened in the subway. On my way to the rink. When I went grocery shopping.
Are you Huntington’s girl? The girl from the video?
It’s unbelievable, especially when you consider that only a single second actually shows my face. I scrolled through the clips and had the urge to watch all the different types of videos his fans had made, but it became overwhelming and I had to stop.
But whatever—I’ve practiced this. I need to be happy they ask about him. It’s easier to talk about a guy than my past.
Smile. Be glad. Smile—damn it.
I grin at her and hope I don’t look like a serial killer. “Ohh, yes, Riley’s my boyfriend.” Ugh. This feels weird.
And just like that, I have four girls swarming me, bombarding me with questions about how it happened and how long it’s been going on. I look at Priya and mouth a desperate Help me, but she just steps back like a crab, clearly enjoying my misery. She may look like a sweet Disney princess, but oh my friend is evil.
So, I stutter out awkward responses about my hockey boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in three days and actually know almost nothing about. But hey, he has a cat now. No. Wait. What the heck did I say? He doesn’t have a cat. Shoot. What if he’s allergic? My brain must be on vacation in Hawaii without me.
“All right, everyone, Liora James is next!” calls out the casting director, clapping his hands to gather our attention.
I take the opportunity and almost stage dive out of the situation. Even though I was nervous as hell a minute ago, the ice calls to me like a sanctuary now. Why is everyone so interested in a relationship?
I’m starting to think that maybe agreeing to this was way bigger than I thought it would be. I figured we could just tell everyone we’re together and that’d be it.
It’s not like he’s an A-list actor or anything. Well, maybe I should have stalked him on Google before saying yes. I mean, just because I don’t care about hockey doesn’t mean it’s not a big deal to everyone else. Apparently it’s life or death for some people here.
“The music is your starting signal,” a voice tells me.
I’m scanning the stage, but the blinding lights engulf everything in their radiant glow. It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack made of sunshine. I guess I need to get used to random voices telling me stuff.
I have to write a list of things I have to get used to.
With a deep breath, I step onto the ice, the chill seeping into my bones and I prepare to perform the routine I worked on for the last days. We need to perform a new routine each week and we also have to train someone who isn’t used to figure skating at all and make it all look like we’re used to pair dance. I’m not. I’m a single skater. But I’ll show them that I do this.
I glide into my opening pose.
As the music starts, I let it guide me, every beat syncing with the rhythm of my heart. I chose the song “River Flows in You” by Yiruma and focus on the technical elements first—some mohawks, some paragraph brackets, a lutz jump, each executed with precision. Then, I let the artistic side take over, my body flowing gracefully, interpreting the music with every movement as I go for a single axel and land it cleanly. Oh thank the heavens. I used to land three, but there’s no way I can do it now. A triple axel is one of the most challenging jumps in figure skating. I trained like hell to land it.
As the final note rings out, I strike my ending pose, my chest heaving from exertion. Silence fills the room for a heartbeat, and just as I’m about to turn around and leave, there’s…applause. From Grace.
I blink, then blink again. The light changes and I look to the podium in front of me. There she is, standing and clapping away.
This is the first time I notice the two other jury members. It’s Twain Teller, one of America’s top casting show judges, famous for shows like The Voice. Next to him stands dancer Idris Bell, who’s mostly been on dancing shows. The way he looks at me, he doesn’t seem all too critical—he’s clapping with such joy that a small, triumphant smile tugs at my lips.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Priya giving me a thumbs-up, and I can’t stop smiling.
Sometimes life is so strange.
For so long, the only friend I ever had was my mom, and now it feels like I’ve known this girl forever. But it’s been nothing more than a week. Even though I should be nervous because fucking Grace Holland, an actual ice queen, applauded for me, I’m more nervous because Priya’s next.
“Congratulations,” Grace says. “You’re in the show.”
“Hey, great job out there!” a friendly voice makes me jump as I watch Priya fly over the ice in her new orange dress.
I turn to see a tall man with short brown hair extending his hand to me. “Hi, I’m Aiden. Aiden Smith.”
“I’m Liora James,” I reply, taking his hand.
His grip is firm but gentle. And that’s when I recognize him. Oh, I know him! Up close, he’s even more striking than in his Instagram reels—well built, olive skin, with a nice jawline and deep brown eyes. His athletic build suggests countless hours at the gym.
“Your routine was really impressive,” he continues. “I’ve been trying to learn how to skate for this show, and it’s not as easy as you make it look.”
“Trust me,” I say, “it wasn’t always like this. Nerves still get the best of me sometimes, even after all these years, and let’s not mention the countless times I fall.”
Aiden smiles. “I just hope I can keep up with you guys on the ice. Just look at my knees.”
He lifts the hem of his joggers and shows me a ray of purple bruises all over his feet, and I grin. So that’s why they cast them months ago. They need even more initial training, of course.
“Oh damn,” I say and examine the bruises. “Ouch, that looks like you’ve fallen quite a lot.”
“Well, times one hundred and you’ve got the number.”
I laugh and see Priya jumping through the air.
“Oh wow, she’s so good.”
“She is.” I grin proudly and try to see Grace’s face, but I can’t tell how she looks. I start to kneed my fingers as she does her last jump. I know she struggled with this part. She takes the leap, I grip the door frame, and…she makes it.
I sigh in relief.
“She stood it well,” Aiden says.
“Yes,” I say, and I can’t wait to take her in my arms. She was amazing. “Do you know what we’re doing now?” I ask him.
“From what I know, we’ll start with dance classes together. They’ll pair us up and test different combinations.”
“Dancing?” I say, looking up at him.
“Yeah, we have the chemistry check on the floor, and the second one is on the ice.”
“The chemistry check?”
He winks. “If we look good on camera together. If some sparks fly.”
I nod. I know how this goes.
I remember what Ethan told me that night. I need to choose the most attractive partner so that people become obsessed with us and the media will cover me and Riley extensively. He said if I can make people believe I’m falling for my skating partner while still being with Riley, the media buzz will boost my chances of winning. But I’m skeptical—people need to like me, not hate me. Still, he might be onto something. There could be two factions: Team Riley and Team Whoever I’m paired with. Whatever happens, we need to play it smart.
But Ethan also said not to fixate on media coverage.
The focus is on the star, not the skater.
We both earn a hefty sum per episode, and if we win, financial worries will be a thing of the past. Even if I don’t win, each episode gets me closer to freedom. I just need to do whatever it takes to advance as far as possible.
“There she is,” Aiden says as Priya comes running at us.
“I’m in!” she screams and basically runs into my arms.
I hold her tight and we jump up and down together. “Oh shit! Priya, we made it!”
We keep on jumping for quite some time, but since both of us just gave it our all with our routines, we stop before we fall dead to the floor.
It doesn’t take long before they start announcing the names of who made it and who didn’t.
They kick out some skaters I thought had major potential, but in the end, we are down to twenty. With only twelve stars, it means we still have to narrow it down, but Priya and I got into the chemistry stage. That’s all I need. Now it’s up to us to flirt the crap out of these pop stars.
And just like Aiden said, we start with dancing.
We were told to change into a ballet skirt and a matching leotard, and once we hit the dance room, we were split into two groups—ten skaters and six stars in each.
The setup is like speed dating but with waltzing.
We pair up and dance while being filmed, then switch partners and repeat until we’ve danced with all the stars.
Stacey practically throws herself at Aiden, desperate for his attention. I can’t help but roll my eyes when she ignores the smaller actor and forces Aiden to dance with her for the second time in a row. I catch Aiden’s gaze and he makes a face at me. It’s satisfying to know that he isn’t a fan of Stacey either.
Also, I have no clue why Priya likes this Mason Stone. He was my worst dance partner, constantly standing on my feet and telling me I should let him lead, even though he didn’t lead at all. Prick.
By the time we are done, my head is spinning.
I don’t even remember getting home.
All I know is I fall headfirst onto the couch and I’m out like a light.