they give us the results tomorrow anyhow.”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “Sounds good. You going to practice early?”
Part of me wanted to pout and hang up my skates for good, but I’d learned my lesson about that. “Yeah. I’ll be up at dawn as usual. I figure if we move on, we have to have a new routine learned by next week’s show. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Ty chuckled. “Good point. I’ll be there, too.”
I gave him a faint smile. “Night.”
“Night.”
~~ * ~~
Waiting for the live show’s results, the next day passed slowly. We only had a half day of training, since the rest had to be spent getting ready for being on-air that evening. Imelda hadn’t shown up, but she had sent over an assistant with notes for us. Next week’s theme would be ‘theatrical soundtracks,’ and she’d picked a theme from The Maltese Falcon that I didn’t recognize. She’d left a note that she was already working with costuming on our outfits, so not to worry about it.
The element added this week? The pair spin.
We skipped practicing that for now, since it wouldn’t matter if we had to learn it or not if we were voted out. Ty and I took it easy, going through the steps of the new and equally-boring routine that Imelda had picked out for us.
I was starting to wonder if our choreographer was in cahoots with Penelope and if they were determined to make us the most boring team out there.
~~ * ~~
“We have the results from last night’s voting,” Chip said. “May I have the envelope, please?” He paused for dramatic effect as a young child skated out to him with the big red envelope.
My hand clenched Ty’s sweaty one.
So far, the results show hadn’t been nearly as painful. It was only a half-hour long, which meant there was time for a montage recap of the prior night, some commentary from the judges, a singer to trot out and flog their latest single, and then the results. We’d all paraded around the ice one last time in our costumes from the night before, and then we’d lined up in the order of our scores.
“Before we read the results, I’d like to see who our judges think will go home?” He looked to the judging panel.
Oh no. My lip curled. This was going to be like salt in the wound, wasn’t it?
Penelope played with a pen on the judging table, tapping it as she thought. “I considered this for a little while last night, and I feel like the weakest link is Ty and Zara. They should be the ones to go home.”
I made a gagging face, and then remembered that we were on camera. I hoped they hadn’t caught that. The way the audience laughed, though, they had clearly seen my expression. I’d have to remember that for next time.
“And you, Irina? Who do you think should go home?”
“I feel,” she said in her thick accent, “that all of the teams did well. I don’t think I could choose someone to go home at this point. They’ve all worked really hard.”
Clearly Irina was the softball judge. The audience clapped, agreeing with her.
“And Raul?”
He considered for a moment. “I thought Jon Jon and Julia had no chemistry. My vote would be for them.”
That surprised me. I glanced down the line at Jon Jon, but judging from the look on his face, he’d been expecting something like that.
“Time for the results,” Chip said. “Based on the audience votes and combined with the scores from last night…the first team safe is…Emma and Louie Earl!”
Triumphant music broke out, and I clapped for Emma, glad for her. She hugged her partner and looked thrilled as they skated forward, waved to the audience, and then moved off of the ice.
“The next team safe,” Chip continued, waiting for the clapping to die down. “Is…Serge and Annamarie Evans!”
I clapped, though less enthusiastically for them. Neither one was a surprise there. Louie Earl was an older man who was surprisingly agile on his feet, and Emma was talented. Serge and Annamarie were both graceful
He nodded and cleared his throat. “Sounds good. You going to practice early?”
Part of me wanted to pout and hang up my skates for good, but I’d learned my lesson about that. “Yeah. I’ll be up at dawn as usual. I figure if we move on, we have to have a new routine learned by next week’s show. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Ty chuckled. “Good point. I’ll be there, too.”
I gave him a faint smile. “Night.”
“Night.”
~~ * ~~
Waiting for the live show’s results, the next day passed slowly. We only had a half day of training, since the rest had to be spent getting ready for being on-air that evening. Imelda hadn’t shown up, but she had sent over an assistant with notes for us. Next week’s theme would be ‘theatrical soundtracks,’ and she’d picked a theme from The Maltese Falcon that I didn’t recognize. She’d left a note that she was already working with costuming on our outfits, so not to worry about it.
The element added this week? The pair spin.
We skipped practicing that for now, since it wouldn’t matter if we had to learn it or not if we were voted out. Ty and I took it easy, going through the steps of the new and equally-boring routine that Imelda had picked out for us.
I was starting to wonder if our choreographer was in cahoots with Penelope and if they were determined to make us the most boring team out there.
~~ * ~~
“We have the results from last night’s voting,” Chip said. “May I have the envelope, please?” He paused for dramatic effect as a young child skated out to him with the big red envelope.
My hand clenched Ty’s sweaty one.
So far, the results show hadn’t been nearly as painful. It was only a half-hour long, which meant there was time for a montage recap of the prior night, some commentary from the judges, a singer to trot out and flog their latest single, and then the results. We’d all paraded around the ice one last time in our costumes from the night before, and then we’d lined up in the order of our scores.
“Before we read the results, I’d like to see who our judges think will go home?” He looked to the judging panel.
Oh no. My lip curled. This was going to be like salt in the wound, wasn’t it?
Penelope played with a pen on the judging table, tapping it as she thought. “I considered this for a little while last night, and I feel like the weakest link is Ty and Zara. They should be the ones to go home.”
I made a gagging face, and then remembered that we were on camera. I hoped they hadn’t caught that. The way the audience laughed, though, they had clearly seen my expression. I’d have to remember that for next time.
“And you, Irina? Who do you think should go home?”
“I feel,” she said in her thick accent, “that all of the teams did well. I don’t think I could choose someone to go home at this point. They’ve all worked really hard.”
Clearly Irina was the softball judge. The audience clapped, agreeing with her.
“And Raul?”
He considered for a moment. “I thought Jon Jon and Julia had no chemistry. My vote would be for them.”
That surprised me. I glanced down the line at Jon Jon, but judging from the look on his face, he’d been expecting something like that.
“Time for the results,” Chip said. “Based on the audience votes and combined with the scores from last night…the first team safe is…Emma and Louie Earl!”
Triumphant music broke out, and I clapped for Emma, glad for her. She hugged her partner and looked thrilled as they skated forward, waved to the audience, and then moved off of the ice.
“The next team safe,” Chip continued, waiting for the clapping to die down. “Is…Serge and Annamarie Evans!”
I clapped, though less enthusiastically for them. Neither one was a surprise there. Louie Earl was an older man who was surprisingly agile on his feet, and Emma was talented. Serge and Annamarie were both graceful
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