“You’re such a guy,” I say.
His smirk disappears. “What does that mean?”
I start walking toward the rink. “That you’re confident for no reason.”
“Oh, I have a reason,” he says, taking a step too and noticeably wobbling.
I stifle a laugh.
“I’ll get the hang of it,” he says, taking another step toward me.
“We’re just walking now,” I laugh. “Wait until we’re on the ice.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he says, pulling a beanie out of his jacket pocket and putting it on. If I didn’t know he had never skated before, he could’ve fooled me. Something about him looks like a pro hockey player. Probably because of how tall he looks now. He’s already over six feet, and his skates make him look even taller. But I definitely don’t tell him this—his ego is big enough as it is.
“Just try to keep up. I’m on a mission here, remember?” I say.
Then I take a deep breath of the refreshingly cold air. I’m so excited I’m practically skipping on my way to the rink.
I scan the rink for any clues. The girl back at the counter didn’t seem to know anything. Did anyone else? Would they recognize me? So far, I only see a custodian in the corner mopping up something that looks like spilled hot chocolate by the outdoor fire.
Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to the first girl at the entrance. She was too busy on her phone to even care that she worked at an ice-skating rink on a beautiful mountain. All I really remember is that she had light brown hair in a long braid that rested on her shoulder and slightly covered her name badge. Only the letters ie were visible, which could basically mean any name: Marie, Allie, Cassie, Julie…
“Your brain looks like it’s working a mile a minute,” Andy says, making me wonder what gave me away. It makes it more annoying that he’s right. “Do you have any other theories?” he asks.
“My only theory is that you’re not going to be as good at ice-skating as you think you’ll be.” I smile, opening the latch to the rink and gliding right on.
I start going fast right away, which is ironic because I can’t even drive a car by myself these days, but I just love the feeling your heart gets when it feels like it can’t beat any faster—and your lungs feel fiery like your hands do by a warm winter fire. It’s an adrenaline high, really, that I can’t explain, and the only other thing that can probably make my skin hot like this is kissing someone. I quickly glance at Andy before I begin to skate faster.
I zip along the ice now, picking up speed on a straightaway. I love that the rink is practically empty, with only a couple of people to avoid, including the girl in her Frozen tutu, who has stopped twirling and is clutching her dad as if her life depended on it.
As I turn the corner, it takes everything in me to not stop skating from laughing so hard. Andy’s still at the entrance, holding on to the side of the rink like the little girl who is still clutching her dad’s hand. I bite my tongue so the search can begin.
I make my way to the far side of the rink, where my last Instagram picture was taken. Once I get there, I slow down, examining the edge of the rink. The outer walls are white, just like the ice below my skates, so a watercolored heart should be easy to spot, but as I move along the side, I find nothing.
Suddenly, there’s a pit in my stomach. I was so sure the next heart would be here. What if my admirer expected me to get here last night and the cleaning crew already found my paper heart?
I shake my head. I have to trust whoever this mystery person is—so far, they’ve been leading me in the right direction. Sherlock Holmes doesn’t look for clues, he just looks. Andy’s voice echoes in my head much to my annoyance. Maybe if I stop looking hard, the paper heart will come more easily? I remember the photo from my Instagram. It looked like I was genuinely having fun from my smile. It was a candid photo, from what I could tell, where I’m gliding along with my hands raised in the air. If only I could go back to that moment, when the biggest things I had to worry about were college and planning the school’s Valentine’s Day Dance.
I take a deep breath and start skating again, this time faster. I glide in circles until the world dissolves. In my peripheral vision, I notice that Andy’s finding his groove too.
I don’t know exactly what I’m expecting to happen. Maybe for another paper heart to come flying at me like I’m an Olympic ice skater who has just performed?
Maybe for the girl from the entrance to come dashing to the rink with a box of chocolates and the next clue?
What I don’t expect is absolutely nothing.
Did I read the clue wrong? No, I think. This place is the epitome of winter wonderland. I’m thinking about all the possibilities as I glide to a halt next to Andy, who I’ve ignored this whole time. But when he turns, my jaw drops.
His face is as red as a valentine, covered in blood.
* * *
After we find a mountain-size box of tissues, Andy tells me his sob story over hot chocolate by the outdoor fire. Thank goodness it was just a bloody nose, which often looks way worse than it actually is. Normally, I would have more sympathy, but I’m here to find my next paper heart and this is slowing me down. I want to chug the hot chocolate in front of me to move things along, but I can only take little baby sips without burning my tongue.
“It was the little Frozen girl’s fault,” Andy explains across the table. “She skated right in front of me and I tried to get out of the way so I didn’t pummel her and then I ran straight into her dad, who was trying to rescue her. But then once I was bleeding, she started laughing at me like she knew what she was doing. That girl is an Elsa, not an Ana.”
I just shake my head. I’m half listening, thinking about where to check next at the same time. Maybe I should search the cubbies in the corner.
“What?” he asks defensively.
“Nothing,” I say, turning my attention back to him. “It’s hard to take anything you say seriously with tissues coming out of your nose.”
“I’m a hero,” he says. “This is a battle wound. Harry Potter. All the Marvel superheroes have had them. It’s too bad I won’t get a scar. Chicks dig scars.”
Not on myself, I think.
“A bloody nose is hardly a battle wound,” I say instead. “And are you done bleeding yet? I’m trying to be nice here, but I still have a paper heart to find.”
“Thanks for your concern, Ella, but I’m not the only one holding us up here. You’re not even close to finishing your hot chocolate.”