Page 21 of Back Outside Edge

We sit in silence for a few minutes, and it's nice. Peaceful. The heater in the room hums to life. A pair of chattering girls walks by, their bags' wheels squeaking. I feel Evan turn his head toward me, a disturbance in the air more than anything, but I don't open my eyes. Don't look into his, so close to me. Something in me wants it too much, and it's terrifying.

Wait, what? Terrifying?

Nothing should be terrifying about this moment. Just Evan comforting me.

Maybe what's terrifying is me reliving, over and over, my short program mistakes.

I still don't open my eyes, even though I can sense Evan watching me. He's so close I think I feel his breath on my cheek. “I can't believe I almost fell,” I admit.

Evan lets out a gentle huff. And yes, there it is, the warm exhale a light pressure, that makes my skin tingle. "Not someone who's used to falling, are you? You know, the rest of us mere mortals do that sometimes."

"Oh, shut up."

Another huff of suppressed laughter. "Honestly, it's kind of nice to see that you're human."

"I hate you."

"Not just the mechanical robot who can jump endlessly all day, every day without a single mistake."

"You're the worst."

He's all out laughing now, and the direction that laughter comes from changes enough I'm sure his head has moved. He's not facing me anymore. Which means I'm safe to open my own eyes and peek at him. His face is bright, cheerful, full of the laughter that I've somehow, magically, created in him. He's so fucking sunshiny. Something inside me wants him right here, laughing, next to me, all night. As if his presence can banish the demons that will haunt my dreams. "Hey," I say, as a new thought occurs to me.

“Hey, what?” His voice is still full of that beautiful, ringing laughter.

“You're ahead of me right now.” And somehow, despite my disappointment in myself, I'm so proud of him I could burst.

“Ahead of you?”

“After the short program. You're ahead of me.” This is a first, unless it happened sometime when we were both Junior skaters.

“Ah, so that's why you hate me.” He's trying to make light of it, I can tell, but his voice is also inundated with pride. “Second-rate skater ahead of the great Stefan Petryk, who could have imagined.”

“You are not a second-rate skater.” I lean in just a touch closer. So his heat can wrap around me better. I want to move in further. To let our legs touch. Our arms. To rest my head on his shoulder. Why?

What is this?

“You're one of the best in the world. As evidenced by the fact that you are at Worlds,” I add, smiling at him, even though he can’t see it.

He settles himself in next to me a little more comfortably. And in the process moves closer. Only a hair's breadth separates us now. "Yeah, but there's best in the world, and then there's 'I only made it to Worlds because someone better got injured' best in the world. You're the former. I am definitely the latter."

“You're still ahead of me after the short program,” I stage whisper into his ear, and he pulls back, laughing again.

“Jesus, what was that?” Evan reaches up to rub at his ear as if my whisper made it itch.

“Me reminding you to quit being so damn modest.”

“By spitting in my ear?”

“I didn't spit.” The word comes out harsher than I intended, and, of course, a droplet spews from my mouth as I say it. Caught in the afternoon sun pouring through our windows. “Well, ok, I did just now.”

Evan's still laughing. And he leans over until our shoulders brush. "You're so much more of a dork than I thought you were."

I don't think he means it as an insult. Not with the way he's laughing, and not when our shoulders are touching the way they are right now, sending little zings of electricity through me. Settling into a churning low in my stomach. A churning that is very similar to nerves. But isn't.

It really, really isn't, and I'm not remotely sure how to deal with this feeling.

Evan's head turns again, and our eyes catch. Inches apart at most. I'm drowning in him. In the depths of his eyes and his clean, fresh scent. In the pressure of his shoulder against mine. Time stops.