Page 22 of Crack the Ice

“It’s in your head, dance to your own beat. My old dance teacher back in Spain, she was my brother’s best friend. She always used to say, “Your mind knows exactly what it needs to regulate itself if you give it the opportunity. Unplug yourself from it and just move. Your body knows what to do. And when that minute is up, if you don’t feel better, I’ll take you for ice cream myself.”

Her head falls forward a bit before she looks back up at me. “She was supposed to be Lana, and I’s dance teacher. You would have loved her. She was amazing.”

Before I can ask why she’s talking about her like she’s not here, she spins in a circle and yells, “Start counting.”

I watch her move and sway, her arms seeming to flow more easily with every passing second. Her eyes are closed, and as time goes on, a soft smile pulls at her lips. I lost count after twenty-three, so caught up in the effortless grace that surrounds her. How she loses herself in the movement, the elegant way her legs lift off the ground, something so indicative of a ballerina. And after a while, she turns one last time, and her eyes open to meet mine. “That was the longest minute of my life.” She huffs out a breath, but there’s a smile on her face, a real one.

One that has me smiling right back. Huh, maybe I should try that next time I get in my head. While I may not have danced with her, watching her shut my mind up entirely. Weird.

“Thanks for dancing with me, Mavy.”

“But I didn’t dance,” I whisper.

“No,” she says, stepping toward me. “But you gave me the space I needed to deal with the monsters in my head. And you didn’t tell me I was silly for it.”

My eyebrows slam over my eyes. Who the heck would tell her it was silly? How dare someone tell anyone how they can or can’t deal with their problems? I deal with mine on the ice, and no one makes fun of me for it. She’s a dancer for crying out loud. Why would there ever be any other way?

Before I can say anything, though, she steps around me and pulls the back door open. “You’re a good friend, Maverick. I hope you get some sleep. Try to dance if you can’t. Promise it helps. Goodnight.”

“Night,” I mumble.

I stare at the place she was just in, debating whether I should try it or not. Afraid she’s watching from somewhere inside, I go back to my room. And when I do, I set the timer and dance. Then I set another one, and another one. Dancing morphs into visualizing plays, and visualizing plays turns into me trying to score imaginary goals. And before I knew it, my sister’s twelve-year-old best friend just unknowingly handed me the key to getting out of my head, or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

* pretty girl

* You hang out with my brother too much

SEVEN

CECILIA

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been to Beautiful Pour. The rich smell of coffee and Maria’s awful jokes greatly improve my mood. Not that I was in a bad mood, necessarily, just not fully awake yet.

Lana called at six o’clock this morning asking if I wanted to have coffee with her and Lake before they head out of town for one of his basketball games. Of course, she knew I was seconds from declining when she told me it was on her. Not that I need her to pay, but free coffee? I’d be an idiot to turn that down.

“Hey,” Hendrix, AKA Hix, Lake’s middle brother, says as he slides into the booth next to me. “Sorry for crashing your date.” He winks.

“I’d hardly call this a date.” I motion to Lana and Lake, who are too busy canoodling to realize he’s joined us.

I roll my lips between my teeth as his head rears back and the corner of his lip pulls into a grimace. “Do you think they’d notice if you left?” he asks out of the side of his mouth.

“Probably not.” I take a sip through my straw. “Got any better ideas?”

He nods, holding out his hand, which I take without a second thought. Hix is one of the most easy-going people I know, though quite the ladies’ man. We’ve known each other since middle school, and though he’s my brother’s age, we’ve always been friendly with one another.

“Let me get another one for the road,” I say, shaking my now empty plastic cup. “Want something?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

A smirk cuts across my face. “Daring, I like it.” Not many people can handle Café con leche the way Maria makes it. It’s bold, a jumpstart to the heart, and I love it more than I love air.

After I grab our coffees and get about two hundred questions from Maria, I hand Hix his coffee and head out the door.

“Where are we going?” I ask, looking across the street at my sister-in-law’s bookstore, Tattered Pages. All the lights are off, which means she’s not in.

Boo. I can’t annoy her yet.

Hix looks down at me, eyes softening at the corners. “Figured we could walk around the lake if you’re up for it.”