Page 7 of Put a Rink on It

“Uh, my sister, duh.” Kaitlyn is three years younger than me, but she keeps me up to date on the inner workings of social media, which is her source of income. She’s also who suggested this particular book to me. “But we aren’t here to talk about her. Let’s get skating.”

Her video pauses as she pulls up the book. I pop in my AirPods and take to the ice. When she returns, the phone props up against the side of the glass, Marina moving in front of it as her feet glide along the ice to keep her upright.

“One full chapter until we break?” she queries, our routine pretty much set, as long as the chapters aren’t too long. As if reading my mind, she adds, “Twelve minutes.”

“Perfect. Skate and then we’ll chat.”

Another wide smile fills her lips, and damn, I’m smitten.

“Okay, here we go.”

She moves closer to the screen, her torso the only part of her in view as she fiddles with something on her phone. Shortly after, the sound of the audiobook narrator fills my ears, and I take off at a slow pace around the rink.

As I listen to the narrator set up the story, I get lost in the details of the day-to-day, small-town life of the main character and her trusty sidekick, a calico cat.

About five minutes in, I stop listening to the words, only hearing the voice. Each time I skate by my phone, I search for Marina, watching her glide across the screen.

She’s been a decent skater since I met her, graceful in her movements, her shorter limbs appearing longer as she holds an arabesque or a lunge. She can do basic jumps and spins, but she prefers gliding around the rink, getting lost in her own world.

Or when we skate together, the world of a book.

My mind flashes back to how this started, back when we were in college, soon after she transferred to a school thousands of miles away from Denver where I was, where she attended her freshman year. The too-rigorous curriculum and a change in their family’s financial circumstances forced her back to the East Coast and a college closer to home.

One night, she mentioned something about joining her brother at the rink for a private session, and I jokingly said, “I want to come.” Ever since, we’ve been skating “together” a few times a month when my busy schedule allows it to spend time with each other. She’s been to Minnesota plenty of times, to my family’s home in Tahoe City, California, and I’ve visited her in Vermont, but it’s never quite enough time when we’re together.

Not that we’re actually together. For a hot and heavy couple of weeks back in college, we had our fun. It ended when she left school, and we became the best of friends. Mostly because I don’t want to rock the boat and ruin our friendship. I’m glad she’s in my life, even if I can’t have all of her. I dread the day she tells me she’s found the love of her life, the inevitable change in our relationship status, no doubt. Because it’s not like I’ll be the one settling down.

“NERO!” Marina’s voice echoes loudly in my AirPods, causing my feet to stumble. I catch myself before I fall. What a news story that would make.

I skate over to my phone, swiping it from where it rests against the glass, and skate off the ice to the bleachers for some water.

And to pretend I wasn’t lost in my head over this woman for the nth time this year.

“Did you almost fall?” she asks, her eyes wide as she stares into the camera.

“No. No, I did not. That was a figment of your imagination.” I try to slow my breathing. Not from pushing myself too hard on the ice, but from letting my mind travel to places it shouldn’t.

“I don’t believe you. What did you think of chapter one?”

Oh, shit. I haven’t a clue what happened in the book. Not even an inkling of what it was about.

Marina’s face lights up with laughter. “You didn’t miss anything. Definitely won’t be needing a shelf trophy of this one. If I was the kind of girl who collected books.”

She’s not, a fact I know. The only books she reads are when we skate together. Otherwise, she’s more of a podcast junkie.

“How will we occupy the rest of our ice time?”

“Talk to me about this trade possibility.”

JANUARY

“Sign here.” My agent points to a line on the last page of the contract, the last signature needed to seal the deal.

Spending my entire career in Minnesota and being a pending free agent, the idea of moving to a new team was low on my agenda, but when Ember presented me with the possibility of a sign and trade with Hartford, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Hartford’s a brand-new expansion team, and while I passed on it when the team was initially set up, now that their first season is underway, they reached out to my agent to see if I’d reconsider, adding a lot more money to the contract. The money wasn’t the deciding factor, but it didn’t hurt.

The other saving grace is being on the same coast as Marina, a drive less than three hours away. Except for the one semester in college, we’ve never been this close. I suppose one hundred miles will still feel long when I want to grab a pizza with her.

When I want to skate with her in the same rink.