After Nationals, Warren and Sophia returned to school, for their last semester of college. They had classes to worry about, and Betsy, and skating. Warren was still trying to get into shape to skate at Worlds. It wasn’t an easy process, and the pain never entirely went away.

However, they believed what they had told June—that missing Worlds this year would be horrible for their career. They had to show up, at the very least.

"Besides which," Warren told Sophie one night, "because of all the brouhaha and the suspensions, this is the one Worlds where the judging is almost guaranteed to be fair. How we gonna pass that up?"

Meanwhile, Jessie was having her own problems—with Ryan. He seemed to be getting more and more distant. All of a sudden, and she didn’t understand it. He kept maintaining he wasn’t upset that she had gone after Courtney. Courtney had deserved it, Ryan had told Jess, and it was Jess’s honor that was being sullied, so he didn’t mind at all. But Jess still felt uneasy. Finally, she asked him about it.

"Look, it’s just weird. After Worlds, OK? I have to get through Worlds, and I have to do it with Courtney. After that, we’ll settle all this once and for all."

Jess wasn’t all that comforted by that—because she was sure that Courtney was twisting the screws into Ryan, and hard.

A couple of weeks before Worlds, Warren and Sophie performed their free skate, in front of the observers from the USFSA, to the observers’ satisfaction. They’d proved their fitness and would be allowed to go to Worlds.

What the USFSA folks didn’t realize, however, is how close a thing it was. That was the first time Warren had been able to get through the whole free skate without collapsing in pain. And he did collapse in pain afterwards, in the locker room.

They got through the program a couple more times, then flew to New Jersey for Worlds. June met them there. After seeing them skate, she said, "Are you sure you guys want to do this?"

"Yeah," Warren said. "We have to give it a try. The problem is, I don’t think we can practice."

"That’s not going to be good," June told them, though they already knew that. "The judges are going to expect to see you on the practice ice."

"We know," Warren told her, "but I don’t want us to blow our load in practice. We have to skate three straight days, two short programs and one long. I don’t know if I can do that without resting beforehand."

"I see your point. I guess it’s a risk you’re going to have to take," June said. Then she grinned. "It’s a good thing you two have timing that’s almost second nature."

"No lie," Sophie giggled. "Considering how little time we’ve spent on the ice since October, it’s a miracle we’re not completely tripping over one another and losing all sense of unison."

"It’s that whole telepathy thing," June laughed.

That night, they ate in the hotel dining room, where they were joined by Evan Pogdar.

"Come to watch?" Warren asked Evan.

"Yup. Plus I’m still the athlete’s rep on the USFSA board, so I have to be here because of that."

"What are your plans?" Sophie asked him.

"Try to find a new partner, hopefully this summer."

"Shawna’s OK with that?"

"Actively encouraging it, actually. She’s going to coach. When I find a partner, she’s going to be my co-coach, along with Nina." Russian expatriate Nina Zirkovskaya had been Evan and Shawna’s long-time coach. "She’s come to terms with the end of the skating part of it, and wants me to keep going."

Later on, Warren and Sophie were joined by the Canadian dancers, Renee Damphier and Christian Gaudler. They hadn’t competed at an ISU event in two years, but had kept their eligibility, skating in only pro-ams and shows that wouldn’t count against them with the ISU. They had decided to attempt a comeback this year, and had won Canadian Nationals.

"Back for another go, eh?" Warren teased them.

"Yeah. After watching those French bumblers win last year—and after all the changes and suspensions—we figured we’d give it one more shot," Renee told them. "And we’re in shape, ready to go, and we have dynamite programs. How’s the knee?"

"Getting there. We’ll see," Warren told them.

They didn’t show up for any practices, and it was noticed—but they didn’t feel as if they had a choice. They would be skating three straight nights, and it was going to be all Warren could do to get through that.

Wednesday was the first Original Dance, the shuffle. Warren and Sophia broke out Ringo Starr’s "You’re Sixteen," a fun song that they had worked up a fun program to. There were two problems—they skated fairly early in the order, and they were very rusty. They managed a decent showing, and Warren’s knee held up fairly well. When all was said and done, however, they had only placed fourth. Damphier and Gaudler won, with a stunningly difficult shuffle. The Brits, Brenneman and Watts, were second; and the Russians, Kuznetsova and Vasilyevskiy, were third. One thing that did make Warren and Sophie happy was to see that now, with the offending judges of past years weeded out, the French team was way down in eighth. Ryan and Courtney were tenth. Ryan was philosophical, but Courtney was fuming.

The next day, it was time for the rhumba. Sophie and Warren did a steamy interpretation of Sade’s "Smooth Operator." A Rhumba was supposed to be sexy, and Sophie and Warren had an advantage. Warren tossed off the pain, and went for it. It was difficult, but they got through it—and the inherent excellence of the program showed through. They won the second OD. The Brits were second again, with the Canadians falling to third after a little stumble.

After the two Original Dances, the Canadians and the Brits were tied for first, but Sophie and Warren were within striking distance.

Sophie and Warren were in their hotel room after the second OD. The Free Dance would be the next evening. Ellen, who was there with them, was watching Betsy in her room.

"So, how’s the knee?" Sophie asked.

"It’s a little sore. I’ll get through it OK, but it does hurt."

"Hmmm, well, it’s the night before the free dance. You know what that means."

"Uh-huh," Warren laughed. "I think you’ll have to be on top, though."

"Now when I have I ever complained about that?" Sophie giggled. "Besides which, that’s been the case most of the time since you hurt that knee. Come here," she said, sitting on the bed. Warren joined her. She started taking off his clothes. When she got them all off, they went to work on hers. Afterwards, naked, they grabbed each other, kissing deeply. Their hands roamed all over one another as their tongues danced. After a while of this, Sophia rolled Warren onto his back. She went to straddle him.

"Don’t you want my tongue first?" Warren laughed.

"Nope, Dear Heart. Not tonight. I’m too horny." She lifted up and lowered herself onto him. "Oh, man," she groaned.

She started moving up and down on him. "Is that OK? On your knee, I mean."

"No problem," Warren told her. She picked up the pace. It wasn’t long before they both went.

"That, for us, was a quickie," Warren joked, cuddling Sophie in his arms afterwards.

"Sometimes a quickie is nice. Don’t want to tire us out and all, but we needed our good luck fuck."

"As long as all that luck goes right to my knee," Warren laughed.

Warren and Sophie drew last to skate of the final group in the free dance. "I was hoping for that," Warren said. "I want to ice down my knee after warm-ups."

The Irish couple, in fifth place, went first. They were definitely getting better. Next were the Brits, Brenneman and Watts, who were very good. The young Russians, Kuznetsova and Vasilyevskiy, were decent—but they weren’t as good as the Brits, and, without a stacked judging panel, they weren’t going to beat them.

Then the Canadians, Damphier and Gaudler, came out and put a big huge exclamation point on their return to eligible competition. They were, simply, marvelous. Fast, complex, intricate—and their presentation ability, always their weak point, had been improved by two years of skating in show tours. They were fantastic, and got deserving marks.

Warren and Sophie saw it all. "That is gonna be tough to beat," Sophie said.

"Quite honestly, I’m more worried about staying on my feet for four and a half minutes," Warren said.

"That bad?"

"We’ll see. It bothered me yesterday, and that program was two minutes shorter."

They stepped out onto the ice. Renee and Christian, always gracious competitors, wished them good luck as they left the ice. Warren and Sophie took their starting position.

The announcer announced their names, and said that they were "skating to the music of Bruce Springsteen," which got a resounding cheer. Of course it did, they were in New Jersey. Warren and Sophie both loved Springsteen—but worlds being in Jersey was an added incentive to skate to him this year.

The opening guitar riff to Ramrod rang out, and they were off.

It started out fine. They did the opening sequence with no problem. After the first verse, their cut of Ramrod skipped to the sax solo, to which they had choreographed their serpentine step sequence. It was fast and intricate, in closed position, and they performed it with aplomb. The rest of Ramrod was fine.

It was after that that the wheels started to come off, just a little bit. The transition in music from Ramrod to Give The Girl A Kiss was marked with a spin and a lift. That visibly took something out of Warren, especially the lift.

The next part was fine, but when they got to the chorus, when the music (and the steps) sped up, Warren was pushing it. They did it, but it was obvious that Warren was in pain.

Where it showed was during the side-by-side step sequence. Their unison was off, because Warren was clearly laboring. The number ended with a series of circular ‘skip’ steps, pulling into a spin, and then a kiss (on the words "Give the girl a great big kiss," of course). Sophia noticed that she was carrying that whole skip step-spin sequence. She knew it for sure when Warren practically collapsed in her arms at the end.

"Oh shit," he hissed.

"Bad?"

"Fuck, yeah. It hurts like hell."

They did their bows, and they got off the ice, Warren visibly limping.

"Damn, that was heroic," June told them when they got off the ice.

"How was it?" Sophie asked her.

"I think you guys had the World Championship in the bag until the side-by-side. That was sloppy. It doesn’t matter, though—just getting through that program as well as you did was a miracle."

"I am in so much pain I can’t tell you," Warren said.

The marks came up. Mostly 5.7’s for technical merit, with the odd 5.8—low for them, especially for a program designed to be a technical one. The presentation marks were similar.

They didn’t win—but they finished second. A silver medal.

"You should be thrilled with that, you really should," June told them. "You shouldn’t have even been out here skating. That really was heroic."

"We’ll take it," Warren said. "We got back on the podium, we didn’t miss a whole year, we’re well set-up for the Olympic year. As long as I heal."

"You will," June said.

"I think we’re going to be off the ice for a couple months anyway, what with graduation and all," Sophia said. "Not completely, but we’re not even going to think about next year until after we graduate. And we’re not doing the tour."

When they got back to the locker rooms, Warren was met by Ryan Killen. "Nice skating. That was gutsy."

"Thanks," Warren told him. "How’s Courtney."

"Livid. She thought this was our year to move up, instead we moved down." They had finished tenth. "Of course, this is all my fault."

"You need a new partner," Warren told him.

Ryan snorted. "Easier said than done, especially considering Evan’s going to be looking for a new partner. I’ll be second choice. Nope, I think I just have to work things out with Courtney."

"Suit yourself, but I think you’re nuts. She’s never going to come around—and moreso as long as you’re with Jess."

"Tell me about it," Ryan sighed.

That night, they watched Andrea and Brett rebound from last year’s disaster to win their second World Championship.

Saturday afternoon, the men took the ice, and Tom won his second straight silver medal. Saturday night was the turn of the ladies, and Liz won her umpteenth World Championship. The big surprise was Allison Bowman, who won an upset bronze medal skating her Warren and Sophia-choreographed programs. She was thrilled beyond belief.

Sunday was the exhibitions. Warren and Sophia almost begged out, but the day of rest enabled Warren to feel a bit better. They weren’t going to do two, which they were entitled to, but they did one. It was a thing they had worked up to the song You Dance, by Eastmountainsouth. It was a gorgeous program skated to a beautiful song—and it was technically fairly simple, which Warren was glad of. They skated it perfectly, and got a standing ovation for their troubles.

Sunday night, they were headed back to Wisconsin, and the end of their college careers.