My mouth falls open in surprise. My hands move automatically, selecting a pair of skates that look like they’ll fit her perfectly. “Yeah, that’s right. I didn’t think you’d remember that.” Should I have admitted that I was wondering if she’d remember me?
Her laugh echoes in the small space of the trailer, seeming to chase away some of the winter chill. “Small town, small school. It’s hard to forget faces, even after all these years.”
I hand her the skates, and our fingers brush for the briefest moment. A jolt of electricity seems to pass between us. My gaze darts to her eyes. They widen slightly, making me think she felt that too.
“So,” Paige says, playing with the laces, “what have you been up to? Did you go to art school?”
I feel a flush creep up my neck, suddenly embarrassed by the smallness of my life compared to hers. Memories flash through my mind—late nights spent hunched over a drawing board, dreams of art school and gallery openings, and the thrill of creating something beautiful out of nothing. I push them aside, focusing instead on the here and now, on the practical reality of my life.”No, you know," I say, gesturing vaguely at the trailer, “this is pretty much it. Renting skates and maintaining the ice. It’s not much, but it’s mine.”
I brace myself for the pity or disappointment I expect to see in her eyes. But when I meet Paige’s gaze, I’m caught off guard by the warmth I find there.
“That’s really cool, Noah,” she says, and there’s a genuine admiration in her voice that I wasn’t prepared for. “You’ve carved out your own niche here.”
Her words are kind, and something about Paige’s presence, her interest, makes me want to share more. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “I’ve seen your channel. Your videos. They’re... they’re really great.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. What must she think of me now? Some small-town nobody who spends his free time living vicariously through her adventures? But when I dare to look at her face, I’m surprised once again.
Paige’s eyes widen, a genuine look of pleasure spreading across her features. The air around us crackles with an energy I can’t quite define, but I’m liking a lot.
For a moment, she looks almost... shy? It’s such a contrast to the confident, adventurous persona I’ve seen in her videos that it takes me aback. “Really?” she says, her voice soft. “Noah, that’s such a huge compliment coming from someone like you.”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. “Someone like me? What do you mean?”
She ducks her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in a gesture that’s so endearing I fall a little deeper into her. “Oh, come on,” she says, a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. “You were always the artistic one. I remember seeing your drawings and paintings in Art Hall and being amazed that someone our age could create like that. I admired you for putting yourself out there—it was one of the reasons I was brave enough to start my channel.”
I stare at her, shocked. Me—an inspiration? “You... you remember my work?”
Paige nods, her lips twitching with amusement. “Of course I do. I was in awe of your talent. I used to wish I could draw like that.”
Her words stir up a whirlwind of emotions in me. Pride at the memory of my artistic abilities. Sadness at the dreams I’ve let slip away. I’m reliable now. Not at all the flighty artist who couldn’t keep track of his math book. I’m content.
Aren’t I?
The question echoes in my mind, unsettling in its persistence. I’ve spent a long time convincing myself that this life is enough, but standing here, seeing myself through Paige’s eyes, I feel those old desires to share my art stirring to life.
Paige’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, her words coming out in a puff of white in the cold air. “So, have you been out snowshoeing in the hills lately? I was thinking of giving it a try while I’m here, for old times’ sake.”
The question catches me off guard, jolting me back to the present. “Snowshoeing?” I repeat, my mind scrambling to shift gears. The image of snow-covered trails and pristine winter landscapes flashes through my mind. “Some. Not as much as I’d like. The trails up there are beautiful this time of year.”
“Really?” Paige’s eyes light up with excitement, reminding me of the enthusiasm I’ve seen in her travel videos. It’s strange and wonderful to see that same passion directed at our little corner of the world. “I’d love to check them out, but I’m not sure I want to go alone.”
There’s a hint of a question in her voice, an invitation hanging in the air between us. My heart rate picks up. Before I can think better of it, the words tumble out of my mouth. “I could take you.”
As soon as the offer leaves my lips, I’m mortified. What am I thinking? Paige goes onadventures. The most exciting thing that ever happens when I’m snowshoeing is… well … nothing.
“I mean,” I stammer, trying to backtrack, my cheeks burning despite the cold air, “if you want. If you don’t have other plans. It’s probably not as exciting as the places you usually visit...”
But Paige doesn’t let me finish. “Noah, that would be amazing,” she exclaims, her enthusiasm washing over me like a warm wave. “Are you free this weekend? Saturday, maybe?”
I find myself nodding, unable to resist the infectious nature of her excitement. It’s like being caught up in a whirlwind. “Yeah, Saturday works,” I hear myself saying. “We could meet here around nine? If that’s not too early for you.” Me and Sam are scheduled, but I happen to know that Alexis works every Saturday morning, so he won’t have a reason to slip away. They’ve been seeing each other daily since the tree lighting.
“Nine is perfect,” Paige says, grabbing the skates. The metal blades glint in the winter sunlight. “I can’t wait. Thanks for the skates.” She waves and heads over to a bench to put them on and lace up.
The second she’s away from the window, I’m hit with a whirlwind of emotions. Excitement bubbles up in my chest at the thought of spending time with Paige, mixed with a healthy dose of nerves. What if I make a fool of myself? What if she realizes how boring I am compared to her globe-trotting lifestyle? A sense of anticipation, of possibility, mingles in with all of it. Paige didn’t look at me like I was a small-town boy who did the predictable thing—she looked at me like I’m something special. That does some crazy good things for my confidence.
As the day wears on, customers come and go, a steady stream of familiar faces and tourists alike. I go through the motions of renting skates, offering advice on lacing techniques, and warning about thin ice. But it all feels different somehow, as if I’m seeing my little corner of the world through new eyes.
I catch myself smiling for no reason, my heart racing at random moments as I remember the way Paige’s eyes lit up when she talked about snowshoeing. The mundane tasks that usually fill my day—sharpening skates, balancing the cash box, sweeping the floor of the trailer—take on a dreamlike quality. It’s as if I’m moving through a fog, my mind constantly drifting to thoughts of the upcoming weekend.
