Page 31
“Ready?” asks Vince, when he’s done his hot chocolate. He stands up and tests his balance, blades scraping against the packed snow at the edge of the ice.
“Ready.”
I step onto the rink and wobble, my arms windmilling, and Vince catches my hand.
“Steady,” he says. His hand is firm through my mitten. I grip it tighter than I need to.
We start slow, skating side by side near the edge. Vince is a better skater than I am. I can stay upright and go in a straight line, but anything beyond that is optimistic.
“Remember last year when you tried to show me how to stop and I took out that little kid?” I ask.
Vince chuckles. “I mostly remember the father’s face. I thought he was going to sue me.”
We make a lap together, the other skaters moving around us. The ice is smooth for a homemade rink, although I like the bumps because they slow us down.
Halfway through our third lap, my blade catches a rough patch and I lurch forward. Vince’s arm shoots out, catching me around the waist before I can face-plant.
“Saved your life,” he says, steadying me.
I look up at him, smiling, and don’t move away from his arm. He doesn’t remove it. We just stand there for a second, his hand on my waist, my body leaning into his, and then I blink, he turns away, and we keep skating.
The gray sky starts darkening toward dusk, and one by one, the other skaters head home, until we have the rink to ourselves.
We stay out for another few laps, enjoying the empty rink. Vince skates backward in front of me, showing off, while I attempt to copy him and nearly land on my ass. He catches my hand before I can fall, and I laugh so hard I have to stop moving.
“I’m beginning to think you’re enjoying this,” I tell him.
“Watching you fall over? Immensely.”
“Asshole.”
He gives me a look, but there’s a smile behind it. We keep skating, and after a while I realize how much I’ve missed being able to do this with him. Just talk, laugh, and enjoy ourselves without having to wonder whether every word is going to lead to another uncomfortable conversation.
We’re making our way around the far end of the rink when Vince speaks again.
“So. Have you heard from Tyler since the other night?”
I turn my head. “Uh, there’s been a text or two.”
“And are you going to see each other again?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I look down at the ice. It’s still embarrassing to think about what happened, but at least Vince and I have managed to talk about it.
I glance up. “Is this an interrogation?”
He lifts his gloved hands to proclaim his innocence. “I’m just asking.”
“Well, I haven’t decided.” I push off a little harder, gaining some speed. “We used to have fun together. But we haven’t really been a couple since I went away to college.”
Vince catches up beside me. “Then there’s no reason to rush into anything.”
I laugh. “Says the man who doesn’t even like Tyler.”
“I just don’t know if I’ve seen Tyler’s best side,” he quips, eyes dancing.
“Oh God.” I groan. “Please don’t remind me.”
He laughs and skates ahead of me. I’m glad we can finally joke about it, even if I still haven’t figured out what I want to do about Tyler.
