“Promise to catch me if I fall?”
I grinned back at him. We were in my territory now, and it made me feel light and pleased. “Not a chance.”
We tottered down the short path through the brambly surroundings, which opened to frozen water. I took off my guards and launched onto the ice, pushing off against the uneven surface of the pond. Dried yellow marshes and trees ringed the shore. How long had it been since I’d last skated on a pond? When I’d been serious about skating over two years ago, it’d almost always been at the rink, and most of my practice had been off the ice:core training, balance, strength training. I hadn’t been out on a pond, breathing in bracing, icy air, in ages. In a lifetime.
I took a few gliding steps, my legs at first unwieldy, no longer familiar with the proper way to carry my weight. But though it had been years, a faint memory lived in my body, the ghost of a girl who used to be excellent. Each time my skates moved against the ice, she came back. Iknewthis: not just the movements but the cold on my cheeks and in my lungs, the bright sky above, the bumpy ice. Before I’d been a serious skater, I’d skated on ponds like these, onthispond. And it’d made me happy.
I skated back to Tyler. He’d managed to get onto the ice, holding his arms out for balance in a surprisingly endearing way. I circled around him, laughing. He laughed back. “Not fair!” he shouted.
“No?” I skated a few paces backward, reveling in the tension in my calves, the kick and give, the way my muscles responded exactly the way I wanted them to. Why had I waited so long to do this again? How had I given this up?
I picked up speed. It had been ages since I tried this, but my body remembered. While I didn’t have the same control I once had, skating didn’t feel as foreign as I’d been afraid it might. I executed a few waltz jumps, remembering how to hold my body, adding speed and crossovers. I’d forgotten the sheer joy of this, the magic of having control over my body, of reaching unexpected heights.
Could I still do an axel? An axel jump meant taking off forward and landing backward, one and a half rotations in the air, which made it the hardest edge jump. I’d been good at them once. I breathed in the crisp air, so much more invigorating than the air in the rink, then moved into a series of backward crossovers. Oh, I could do this. This had been my bread and butter. Bending my knees, I lifted into the air, rotating with that familiar feeling like flying, the world a blur as I shifted my balance.
And I felt an instant of brief, painful fear. Landing could be the hardest part, and my legs weren’t as strong as they’d once been. What if my muscles no longer had the strength to hold me up? What if I collapsed in a tangled pile of limbs?
But then my right foot connected solidly with the ice, my leg wobbling slightly but holding, and I was skating backward and laughing.
God, it felt good.
I returned to Tyler, smiling so broadly my cheeks hurt. He brought his hands together in several loud claps. “I get it now.”
I shook my hair out of my face, spitting out a strand of curls. I’d forgotten to tie my hair back, so I performed a quick and effective French braid. The wiry nature of my hair meant I didn’t need an elastic to hold it. “Get what?”
“Why you wanted to skate. You’re good.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed his hand. “Come on!”
“I don’t know—”
“Bend your knees and keep your toes pointed out. Shift your weight back and forth. Don’t look down. Let’s go!”
I looped him about the pond until we were out of breath and rosy-cheeked. Tyler, to his credit, made a valiant effort despite his lack of coordination. We were doing decently until one slightly too enthusiastic push-off. Windmilling his arms, he tottered, yelped—and fell sideways onto me.
We hit the ice, hard. Tyler bore the brunt of it, twisting so he landed with athumpand I merely fell over him. He let out an involuntary cry. “Ow!”
I couldn’t stop laughing, even as I pushed up to a seat while Tyler remained sprawled on his back. “Are you okay?”
“I think I ripped my pants,” he said mournfully. “They’re my best raw denim.”
“Poor boy.” I patted his arm. “But you had fun, right?”
“Yeah.” He grinned up at me, and my heartbeat sped up. I wanted—
I wanted Isaac. We were here to get my heartbeat up so I could practice flirting so I’d be prepared forIsaac.
I cleared my throat. “We should practice. Now that we’re all... filled with adrenaline.”
His grin faltered, but then came back. He waved a hand. “Fine. Flirt with me.”
Eye contact. Smile. Compliments and questions. I flashed agrin, trying to mimic the same casual, comfortable one Tyler gave out so easily. “Hey, Isaac.”
Tyler winced.
My smile fell immediately. “What? How did I already mess up?”
“No—nothing—sorry.” He held his hands up. “It’s weird, having you beam at me and say another guy’s name.”
