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“Take me off the ice and what’s the point of anything?”
I stopped and she stopped too.
“That sounds dramatic,” she said, obviously embarrassed by having admitted something so personal. And to any other person might sound weird.
“No. I know exactly what you mean. If I couldn’t skate I’d feel…trapped.”
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s like those motorcycle gangs. Instead of Ride or Die, I’m more Glide or Die.”
I groaned at her terrible pun and she took off again, grinning over her shoulder.
“You loved it,” she shot at me.
I was a big lumbering body next to her, but it felt good to have company who was able to keep up. Sometimes I made Wendy come out to the rink with me, but she was an average skater at best. Some of the high school teams liked to give it a go, but they didn’t have the stamina or the attention spans.
I knew without asking that Liv could do this all day.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing a helmet on the ice?”
“What are you, my doctor?”
“No. But I bet he’d be pissed if he saw you out here without one.”
She held a finger up to her lips. Nice plump lips. Especially her bottom lip. “Don’t tell my mother.”
“My mom can never watch any of my games,” I said, and then immediately corrected myself. “Back in high school that is. She was always afraid of watching me get hurt. Said it was too stressful for her. Which is hysterical considering what her daughter used to do for a living.”
“Wait, last night, didn’t the bartender call you her brother?”
“Wendy runs the bar now but she used to be an MMA fighter.”
“What? Like she used to kick people’s asses? In a cage? That’s so badass.”
“Yeah, she was pretty tough. But for the record, my mother couldn’t watch her fight either.”
We took the corner, each of us on our right skate. Her shoulder bumped mine and my hand reached out to steady her, but she didn’t need my help. Our hands brushed and I felt like a teenager.
“My dad would come to every event but he would keep his eyes closed the whole time,” she said. “When I asked him what was the point of coming, he said he wanted to let me know that he supported me, but if he kept his eyes closed he could just pretend I landed every jump.”
I chuckled. “Did you skate solo?”
She shook her head and her expression changed. Became a little sadder. “Pairs.”
We stopped talking for a while, just skating. Not racing.
Except after ten minutes, I could feel her getting a little faster. So I went a little faster too. She crouched, getting lower, changing her center of gravity. So, of course I had to do the same. She took the corners with footwork so fast and pristine there was no way I could match her. So, I just turned up the gas and passed her on the straightaway. She came for me on the next curve, going full out.
Naturally, I had to go full out.
We were both laughing and breathing hard, when she finally cried, “I give!”
I’ve scored a lot of goals in my time. Won a lot of fucking games, including a game 7 Stanley Cup overtime, tie breaker.
But this win was so flipping sweet, I fist pumped through my entire victory lap.
“Goodbye, Dillon!” she called out as she left the ice and left me to my victory.
“See you tomorrow, Liv.”
