“Are you okay?” I say.
“I blew it. Again. Again!” He slams his fists on the ice.
“You okay, son?” Mr. Choi puts his hand over the side, but Jonah doesn’t take it.
With a groan, Jonah sits up and takes his helmet off. He rubs his left temple. He chucks his helmet at the boards. It ricochets back at him.
“Tell you what. You worked hard today.” Mr. Choi tucks his clipboard under his arm. “Much harder than I thought you would, especially after last night. Let’s call it a day.”
“No. I want to skate,” Jonah says, standing up.
“Don’t overdo it, son. We just got you healed.”
“No, I want to skate with Olivia.”
“Give me two minutes.” I sprint to the skate counter.
Mr. Choi obviously thinks we’re goofing around because by the time I have my skates laced up, he’s playing around on his phone and drinking coffee at Table #1. But that’s because he doesn’t know who I am. Or what I do.
“Now skating for the American team, Olivia Kennedy! And the crowd goes wild.” Jonah makes a fake crowd sound.
Mr. Choi looks up. Just to show off, I skate backward, prepping for my easiest jump—the triple toe loop. I can do doubles in my sleep, so I have no problem landing this one. Jonah whistles when I finish. I slice to a stop next to him.
“Get it, gurrrl!” Mack yells from next to Mr. Choi at Table #1.
Somebody should tell Mr. Choi to pick his jaw up off the table, because we are just getting started.
“Okay, Ice Prince, let’s show ’em what you got. Same trick as before.”
“But my blades.”
“Dude, you know my blades are super sharp too, right?” I step into Jonah and lower my voice. “So, you wanna play it safe and stay away from me, or do you want to live dangerously and be close to me?”
Jonah strips off his gloves and tucks them in the top of his skinsuit.
He takes my hand. “I promise not to fall.”
Nobody plans to fall, but I keep that to myself. I pull Jonah into motion. We skate one lap around the rink before I flip around. As we come into the turn, I nod. Just like the last time, we find our counterbalance effortlessly. We ease farther and farther into the ice as we spiral until both of us can glide our outside hands on top of the ice. Jonah looks over at me. His smile must be mirroring mine.
There is definitely a chemical reaction going on because Mack hoots loudly from the side. Egged on, I decide to take a chance.
“You want to learn a new trick?” I say when we come back up. Jonah nods. “Remember the arabesque spiral Egg and I do? The one with the airplane wings?”
“Yeah, but I’m no ballerina. My leg isn’t going to do that. And then there is the blade situation.”
I sit in my hip and give Jonah a look that says: “Playin’ it safe or embracing the danger?”
“Airplanes it is,” he says as we push off around the rink.
To his credit, Jonah does attempt an arabesque. It’s low and wobbly and threatens to take both of us out. Jonah’s bright smile is replaced with a grimace.
“We didn’t nail the hydroblade the first time either, remember.” I squeeze Jonah’s cold hands. “And don’t be afraid to lean into me a little bit for support. Let me help you stay balanced.”
“You already do.”
My fingers might be icy, but my heart is melting.
Our arabesques are still low, but they’re solid. The natural curve of Jonah’s blade causes us to do a spiral around the rink without even trying.
Jonah tempts fate by saying, “We got it!”
We stay on our feet this time. My heart soars. We don’t let go of each other, even after our momentum dies and we stutter to a stop. I wish I could find this with Egg or even another partner. This unbridled joy. This reminder of why I skate.
“Woo, girl. You gotta see this.” Mack waves her phone at us from Table #1.
Mr. Choi’s jaw is still on the table. We skate hand in hand over to the wall in front of Table #1.
“Did I miss something last night?” Mr. Choi says.
Jonah and I look at each other and smile conspiratorially. Yes, you most certainly did.
“Are you planning on switching sports now?” Mack asks Jonah.
“Nah. But I want to continue cross-training with Olivia, Dad.” Jonah looks at me with his deep brown eyes, and it threatens to melt me on the spot. “She keeps me balanced.”
No, Jonah keeps me balanced.
Chapter 14
“Look what I have.” For once, Naomi is the last one to appear at lunch. She puts a light blue flier in the middle of the table.
We all lean in to look. The flier announces the Winter Dance coming up in two weeks.
“So, we’re going?” Naomi nods at us when we don’t immediately answer. “Yes?”
The five of us stare at one another, waiting for someone to make the decision.
Naomi cracks first. “Come on, guys. Show some school spirit.”
“Some of us apparently have mad dance moves.” I look at Jonah. “Some of us even took hip-hop lessons.”
Jonah groans. “Can we please pretend like my mom never said that?”
“Wouldn’t it be weird to go without a date?” Brandon pulls the flier toward him.
“Then ask someone,” Erika says pointedly.
“What if she says no?”
“She won’t. And if she does, she’s an idiot, and you should come with us anyway.” I give Naomi a pointed look too.
“There actually is a competition in Utah that weekend,” Jonah says, and my stomach drops.
“We should go shopping this weekend.” Naomi grabs Erika’s arm. “And make plans to get our nails done.”
I want to be interested in their talk of dresses and hairstyles, but my mind is on the ice. I watched Mack’s video at least two hundred times. That girl with the softer, curvier body and her lean, strong partner heating up the ice. I look over at Jonah, and my heart threatens to burst out of my chest.
At the end of lunch, it’s Naomi who straggles behind. She grabs my arm to keep me in the hallway after Erika and the guys go into English.
“So, are you and Jonah, like, a thing now?” Naomi’s eyes sparkle.
“Um, maybe?” How can one ambiguous word carry so much weight?
Naomi squeals and stomps her feet. “Then he better get out of going to that competition and take you to the dance. That’s what a real boyfriend would do.”
“Jonah needs to skate. It’s an important race for him.”
“Jonah needs to give you his attention. You’re not going to wait around forever for him.”
I suspect we’re talking about Brandon now instead of Jonah. “Um, yeah, we’ll see. It’s only a dance.”
“What planet are you on? It’s not a dance. It’s the dance. At least for sophomores.”
“Sure. Okay.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to concentrate for the next two weeks.” Naomi flutters off, mumbling, “So much to do. So much to do. Hair. Nails. Dress. How am I going to find the time?”
When I walk into English, Jonah stops talking to Brandon as I pass them and smiles. I smile back. A thing. None of the others get it, but we do. This is our normal. Even when it sucks occasionally.