Olympic Conquest

Lainey - A Piece of My Heart

I've been skating every day for the last few months. I haven't told my parents yet. I'm sure they suspect but they haven't said anything. I hate keeping it from them but I need to find my way back to skating on my own and they need time to focus on their marriage and not me.

I can't wait to get to the rink each day. I have the fire inside me again. When I can't be on the ice, I sit in the bleachers and visualize my routines. I've started taking ballet and yoga again. I still don't have a coach but I'm doing the best I can to train myself, relying on the years of training I've already had. There's a lot I can do on my own but I know I will need a coach soon – someone to help plan my routines and competitions.

This morning I've decided to return to Lake Arrowhead and check out the rink where I spent time training in high school. It's been a while since I've been back but since I'm on this journey of finding myself, it can't hurt to revisit the places I've been.

I put on a pair of leggings and a thin long sleeve shirt and grab my skates. I look around for a hair band and open my jewelry box, where I usually have a stack hiding the jewelry I don't wear. As soon as I open it, I see the black box from Cory. I still have never opened it. I got back from the hospital and put it in my jewelry box and left it there.

I grab a hair band and as I'm putting my hair up, I look at the box. Memories of the good times Cory and I shared coming flooding back. I tighten my hair band and then reach for the gift box. My hands shake as I pick it up. I'm not sure I want to open this box as it may tear open feelings I haven't wanted to deal with. But I can't stop myself.

I pull the box toward me, completely unsure of what it contains, and still wondering if I want to know. I slowly open it, wondering where Cory is today and if he's happy. And resting inside is a beautiful gold half-heart. I turn the pendant around and it's engraved: A Piece of My Heart – Cory.

My knees suddenly feel weak. I sit down on my bed. I unclasp the necklace and raise the pendant in front of me. Finally, I place it around my neck. That's where it belongs. I drop it down inside my shirt, wanting it close to my heart. I grab my skates.

I drive an hour and half outside of Los Angeles and turn onto the property of the training center in Lake Arrowhead – the place I called my home during high school. My mom and I moved up here while I trained with Sharon and my choreographer. I had a tutor and my life was skating. I remember all of the friendships I forged amongst the other skaters here – but for some reason those friendships haven't really lasted. Once we got older and moved on to other phases in our careers or went to college, we lost touch. To this day, my closest friends are the skaters from my hometown in LA.

I pull up to the Center. I'm not sure who is training here these days but I figured I would come and skate a bit and try to get a sense of who my competition might be. I make my way inside and it's quiet. They must be in between sessions.

"Can I help you?" I turn around and see an older woman who looks like she runs the place.

"Hi, I'm wondering if I could do some skating. I'm Lainey-"

"I know who you are. I thought you quit."

"No, I was injured. But I'm feeling better now. I'm hoping to get back to competing."

"You training with anyone?"

"No, why?"

"Don't you need a coach to get back to competing?"

"I'm looking for one."

"What happened to Sharon?"

She obviously knows everyone.

"She's moved on. She has other skaters now."

"I see." She looks me up and down. "Well, I can give you an hour."