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Caleb laughs, moving the strands out of my face.
I gasp. “Wait. Did you do that on purpose?”
He smiles. “Maybe.”
I glare at him as I push myself to my feet. “You’re a flirt.”
He stands, swaying before he finds a slow rhythm to help him balance. “Would you prefer if I weren’t?”
I look away, hiding my smile. “No. Just make sure you’re only flirting with me.”
“Always.”
I try to memorize every detail of this moment. Caleb’s glistening eyes. The way he looks at me. The pitter patter of my heart. The joy I feel trickling through me. I want this to last forever.
Jordy hasn’t made it very far. He’s migrated away from the wall, but his skates slip and slide more than anything else.
Skating closer, I stop next to him. “Do you need some help?”
He nods as his hands reach out in front of him, grasping nothing but air.
“Okay, bend your knees a little bit,” I say, exaggerating how much I bend mine.
He copies me, wobbling.
“Good. Now, we’re going to move one foot at a time and make sure you shift your weight with it. Like this.” I skate ahead, demonstrating how it works. I circle back around to be in front of him, skating backward. I guess it is like riding a bike, after all.
He pushes off with one foot. Before I know it, he’s gliding past me. “This isn’t so bad.”
“You’re a natural,” I say.
His legs are still shaky, but he’s picking it up a lot faster than I did my first time.
Caleb glides up beside me. He holds out his hand, and while this is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever done in my life, I take it—we could skate hand in hand around the rink.
It’s way more calming than I expected it to be.
I take another mental picture of us. We’re laughing as we fall and get back up. We’re having fun and teasing each other. Most of all, the smiles stretched across our faces show the world that, at this moment, we’re happy.
This is what I want to fill my memories with.
After skating until we can’t possibly keep going, we turn in our skates and head back home. I talked the boys into coming over to watch the next episode of Star Trek. It wasn’t hard. They’re already hooked. They both jumped at the idea.
“I think Spock is my favorite,” Jordy says as we get out of the car.
“Why is that?”
“Have you seen his eyebrows? They’re impressive.”
I want to laugh, but the yelling coming from my house stops me in my tracks.
An eerie sensation ripples through me.
This isn’t the usual fighting from my parents. Something is wrong.
Very wrong.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
