Chapter 7 Chapter 7

Imani

The moment my skates touched the ice, I breathed again.

The scrape of steel across the fresh eyes echoed through the empty practice ring. It settled the storm inside me, and the cold air which filled my lungs chased the heaviness the call left behind.

I forgot the feeling of skating freely without screaming crowds, reporters, teammates, expectations, coaches guiding me towards what I needed to do.

It was just ice mining skates and the wind hitting my face.

I've pushed off, dumped, and let my body remember what my heart never had. The first strides were slow, almost cautious. Then muscle memory took over and I leaned into a turn edge is biting keenly to the surface and the wind brushing my cheeks as if it was the most gentle thing in the world.

One did not understand how much this place meant to me, how much of A home it was to me.

“I knew it.” Mika stood at the opposite blue line, watching. His skates hadn’t moved. “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I would say that this was an illusion, but I knew that it was true.”

“What?”

His smile was small. “You smile when you skate. And you are happier when you do. You try to hide it, but I can see it in your eyes.”

“I do not. I came here to skate. I was not asking for commentary.” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. He chuckled and pushed off effortlessly, unlike me who attacked the ice with speed and sharp cuts. Mika skating looked almost unfair, smooth and controlled. Every crossover was effortless.

And he chuckled when he saw me looking at him.

He glided beside me with his hands casually behind his back. “You were staring. And don’t try to deny it, I already saw you and you were caught red handed.”

“I was evaluating the competition.” I said, rolling my eyes at him. “You know, I might trip you if I learn your skill little too well. It is only a matter of time before the two of us start understanding each other carefully on the ice. The difference is you already knew my skills, I did not know yours, and you are just laying your cards out for me to read.”

“Oh? Professional observation.” He teased. “But I’ll take it. He skated ahead, then spun backward to face me while still moving with perfect balance. Show-off. “You glare just as hard off the ice,” he said. “Catch me if you can.”

I shan't forward following him, my blades spraying white behind me. I caught up with Mika quickly and passed him with ease. Mika laughed and shook his head up. “That is not fair. My strides might be longer, but you are lighter.”

“And that makes me a more dangerous competitor.” I said, taking a right turn, which he said he caught up with.

“So that’s how we’re doing this?” he called. “You are going to try and play dirty. You’ll have to work harder than that!”

“You talk a lot for someone who’s losing.” The two of us laughed, and the ring rang with the noise of our laughter. For the first time in two days, I was not thinking about the reporters, the betrayal or the tournament. All I thought about was this, the two of us, me and Mika, and our race.

I pushed harder. My thighs burned, my lungs protested, but it was worth it. “Now, now, it seems to me that you are very slow, Captain.” I teased, turning to face him before turning around, striding a little harder now.

“Oh, that’s it.” His tone shifted. He dropped lower, one powerful crossover, then another. and he flew. I glanced over my shoulder. Bad idea. He was right there.

“You’re cheating!” I shouted. “And that is not fair. You know that you are faster because you have longer legs than I would.”

“I call it experience.” He reached my side. Our shoulders brushed. I bumped him; he bumped me back. “And I was just complaining that you were lighter on the ring. So no, it is not cheating if I’m going to consider your weight.”

"Body checking already?" I said. “I would have thought that you would take a little longer before you've done so.”

“You started it!”

“Liar.”

We were both laughing now. He edged slightly ahead. “No!” I lunged. “I am not letting a Lakehurst player beat me.”

“Too late!” He said, and I laughed. He chuckled, the two of us racing at the top of our speed.

Rounding the final turn, I grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie for balance. “Oh!” he laughed. “Dirty tactics!”

“Whatever works!” I said as he tried to pull away. Instead his skate clipped mine and everything happened at once. My edge slipped, my balance vanished, and the two of us fell together.

His hand caught my waist and mine landed against his chest. Momentum carried us into the boards with a dull thud. The impact wasn't hard, just enough to stop us. And I found myself staring at him. And for one stunned moment, neither one of us moved.

His arm was still wrapped around my waist, holding me close. My palms rested flat against his chest. Even through his hoodie I could feel a steady rhythm under my hands.

And I looked up slowly, which was the beginning of the biggest mistake that I've done all night. His face was inches from mine. A faint flush from skating and a loose strand of hair across his forehead made me flustered. His breathing matched, mind slow and deep, and suddenly the rink felt very quiet.

Neither one of us spoke, but it wasn't like we were capable of doing so. His gaze dropped, but it wasn't to my body. It was my lips. My eyes followed before I could stop them. Then I looked him in the eye.

His voice came out barely above a whisper. “...You okay?”

I nodded. “I think so. And you?”

“I’ve been better.”

A tiny smile tugged at my lips. “You call crashing into boards better?”

“I meant... I’m not hurt.” He said, shrugging.

But neither one of us moved. Why weren't we moving? Why was it like our bodies asking us to stay where we were? My heart raced so loudly that I was sure that he could hear it. Then his eyes met mine again. And slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned forward barely an inch, and I felt myself doing the same.

My brain yelled at me to stop. This was Mika Renner, captain of Lakehurst, the rival, the man I was supposed to dislike. So why wasn't I pulling away?

His breath fanned across my face, warm despite the freezing rink. I couldn't look away. His eyes searched mine as though asking a question he wasn't brave enough to say aloud. If he kissed me... would I let him? I didn't know. That terrified me.

A loud horn echoed through the empty rink, and the two of us jumped as the moment broke. I opened my eyes immediately. Mika blinked, surprised, then looked toward the entrance. A maintenance worker waved apologetically from the doorway.

“Sorry!” he called. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here. Just checking the ice before the next booking!”

“Uh... yeah. We’re good.”

Finally he cleared his throat. “So...” I looked up. “I guess...” He smiled awkwardly. “...that race ended in a tie.”

I laughed, soft, embarrassed. “I guess it did.”