Page 104 of Ice Dance

“What’s this?” Camden stopped back from the rink.

“It’s an outdoor ice-skating rink.”

“I have eyes, Ren.”

Finally, his face lightened. He came up alongside me, his gaze flicking over all the people on and off the ice.

“Why are we here?”

“I know you like to skate for fun, and it’s been difficult on you . . . On both of us,” I corrected, catching the narrowing of his eyes. I held out his skate bag.

“Aren’t you concerned we’ll be seen?”

I looked around us. There had to be a hundred people here. We wouldn’t stand out, just so long as we didn’t do anything too noticeable. “It’s fine.”

“Alright.” He immediately brightened and took his skate bag.

We sat on the temporary benches and laced up, then left our coats and made our way to the ice. I spotted novices, trying to stand, a group of boys practicing tricks and filming handstands, parents with their kids. Jingling Christmas music played, food stands dished up sizzling fries and BeaverTail, which I’d learned was a sweet pastry treat and not actual beaver tails.

Navarro took off, skating slalom lines between different bubbles of people, making them all look as though they were standing still. Of course he had to be flashy.

I hung back, skating loose, with no real form in mind, just enjoying not having anywhere to be or pressure to dance.

Camden hockey-stopped behind me, then jogged on his toes, flashy without trying. “You going to skate like an old man, Hasegawa?”

“I’m soaking up the atmosphere. Why don’t you try it?”

He slowed, easing into step beside me, and we skated free and slow, side by side.

“This isn’t a date, so why am I really here?” He turned, skating backward, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to keep from colliding with anyone.

The ease at which he skated was already attracting a few subtle glances. It wouldn’t take long before someone video him, and I found I didn’t mind at all. It felt good, in fact, to see him just skating for the fun of it. Not pushing, or panting, just smiling and cruising.

“I do want to talk,” I admitted.

He braked hard, forcing me to stop too, and his eyes narrowed. “Is this a setup? Dylan was in on it?”

“Yes. Sort of. You said no to the dinner⁠—”

“So you hired a car to bring me here? Was that your idea or hers?”

“Mine, but⁠—”

He laughed. “Oh my god, you are sneaky. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

I winced. “Talking while working is⁠—”

“I like it here.” He turned, and we skated side by side again. “This feels good.”

“Yes, it does.” We maneuvered around a group of girls clinging desperately to each other to keep from falling. “I’ve been hard on you. It’s because you’re brilliant, I hope you know that.”

His smiled stayed. “Honestly, I needed it. I don’t think I’d be skating at the level I am without you.”

“You don’t need me. You never did.”

He faced ahead, cheek flickering a little.

“I have . . . said some things,” I began. “As I’m sure you’re aware.”