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“Nope.”
“Good. I hope she keeps you on your toes.”
The first thing I do when I wake up the next morning is roll over and reach for my phone. Still nothing from Winter.
The wave of disappointment is new and foreign. I want an excuse to hang out with her again. I consider sending another message, but I’ve never been that guy. Besides, she’s working again today, so I can stop by and charm her into skating with me later.
I drag my ass out of bed and hop in the shower. Fifteen minutes later, I’m clean, my morning wood has been handled, and I’m dressed.
Mom is in multitasking mode when I reach the kitchen. She alternates between flipping pancakes and arranging cut fruit on a platter. “Morning, kiddo.” She checks the pancakes and deems them flip-ready. “You sleep okay?”
“Like the dead. You need any help?”
“The pancakes are almost done. Can you grab plates?”
My phone buzzes as I pull three plates from the cupboard. Another pang of disappointment hits when I check and find Adele, my skating partner’s name, flashing across the screen.
“Everything okay?” Mom asks.
“Yeah. It’s Adele. She’s probably messaging to tell me she’ll be late.” Adele is rarely punctual.
Mom frowns. “I wish she would be more respectful of your time.”
“It gives me a chance to warm up.” I turn my phone to silent and set it facedown on the counter.
Mom makes an annoyed sound. “I have one to three blocked off for you two. Will that be enough time?” She doesn’t comment further on Adele’s lateness. We’re both used to it. My mom is my skating coach and has been since Adele and I started skating together.
“It should be. I have us booked in from nine to eleven thirty. Then a break for lunch before we get back on the ice with you.”
“Does she have the rotation and the angle down with the triple twist?”
I lean against the counter. “She’s about fifty-fifty. Sometimes she touches me as I catch her because she’s off-balance. It may be too much, but we really need to up the complexity of our routine for this competition. We’re going against some of the best pairs in the country.”
She gives me a patient smile. “I agree, but if she’s still struggling by the end of the week, we may want to swap the move. We don’t want this to affect her confidence with the rest of the routine.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought the same thing.” I pop a grape into my mouth. “We’ve got a few weeks before the competition, so we still have time to adjust.”
She plates the pancakes. “Do you want me to broach the subject with her today, feel it out?”
“It’s probably better coming from you than me.”
The triple twist is a tricky move. It requires a lot of skill and confidence, and sometimes Adele lacks the latter. Shifting the routine and incorporating a lift she feels confident about could be the answer, but we need to place at least third to move on to the next round.
Mom smiles and squeezes my arm. “Sounds good. I know she doesn’t like to disappoint you on the ice, and if I bring it up, it’ll be easier on both of you.”
Dad comes in with a tray of fresh bacon, and we bring the food to the table and take our seats.
“You drove the Marks girl home last night?” He passes me the bacon.
“I did, yeah.”
“She’d make a great addition to the women’s team,” he says.
“I think so too. She said you mentioned the program. She’s working at Boones today with Rose. I plan to invite her to skate with me this afternoon since I have an hour of ice time booked at four. I can mention it again and suggest she stop by your practice after, if you want.”
“That’d be great.”
After breakfast, I grab my backpack and head out to start my day. I still don’t have a message from Winter, but Adele has sent five more. As expected, she’ll be twenty minutes late. She’s sorry, and she’ll make it up during practice. I send a thumbs-up in return so she doesn’t message me relentlessly until I respond.
