AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m volunteering at a community skating rink in Ridley, giving skating lessons to young kids. They’re not figure skating lessons specifically. Just teaching kids who’ve mostly never even laced up a pair of skates how to find their legs on the ice.
I like it so far. It’s kind of the perfect goldilocks zone for me right now.
Being completely away from the ice makes me miss skating, makes me long for it. Being around actual figure skating, on the other hand, just makes my heart ache as I feel taunted by the kind of skating I’ll never be able to do again myself, despite how much I love it.
So far, this is a comfortable midpoint.
Another perk is that I have a keycard that grants me access to the rink any time, and permission to use the ice myself whenever I want.
Skating alone, just leisurely slicing up and down the ice as the cold air fills my lungs and stings my cheeks, is comforting. It’s something that calms the regret and uncertainty that wrack me most of the rest of the time.
Maybe it’ll help pull me out of the funk I woke up in this morning.
Since I don’t have a class today until later this afternoon, I decide to try.
My spirits are a little—just a little—higher as I think of the feeling of my blades slicing across the smooth surface of the ice, of breathing in the crisp air, of seeing the sparkly crystal mist of ice glimmering in the light when I turn my skates to stop.
I step outside the narrow rowhouse I’m renting with my best friend, Casey. We grew up together, and stayed best friends while I was in Maine.
Finally being able to live with my lifelong best friend—something we used to dream about when we were kids—is one positive of being back in PA.
Probably the only one.
My breath hitches as I glance at her car parked by the curb.
I know she’d let me borrow it so I could drive to the rink. But … ever since the accident, I don’t like driving. I don’t like riding in cars, period.
When it’s necessary, I can handle it. With a pounding heart, short breath, and my stomach coiled in tension—but I can handle it.
Still, I avoid it when I can.
Lucky for me, Ridley is a very walkable town. Our house is close to campus, and the town that the university sits right at the edge of has everything I need for day-to-day life. I can even walk to the community rink, even though it’s a bit of a trek.
Twenty minutes later, I’m there. Granted, I’m sweating from this early September morning where the summer still holds enough sway to fill the air with humidity; but the coolness of the rink is a refreshing cure.
I find that the door isn’t locked. Maybe the cleaning crew is here? Or maybe Audrey, the rink manager, got here early even though she usually doesn’t arrive until nine. Either way, I don’t see anyone else when I step inside.
Once my skates are on and I step onto the ice, I can feel the tension all through my body start to slowly melt away.
I still don’t know what I want to do with my future. I still feel alone and alienated, like a fish flopping on dry ground after swimming in the water of figure skating for so much of my life. But right now, as I slide across the smooth and cold ice, those facts don’t bother me.
The regret is at bay. The worry is at bay. The uncertainty is at bay. Just skating, no one else here but me and the ice, is therapeutic in a way nothing else is.
My knee isn’t sore anymore; and after my third lap around the rink, I’m feeling bold. Optimistic.
Maybe … maybe I can try a jump.
Just something simple. A half rotation Waltz. Nothing too fancy, nothing high impact. Something with a light and easy landing.
I nod to myself, summoning confidence. I can do it.
I know my days of Lutzes are behind me. I know that risky team moves where I’m hoisted up and spun around are in the past.
But I can do a freaking Waltz jump now and then.
Right?
Right.
