Jordan Skates

She forced me to come ice skating with her.

First of all, I have no sense of balance whatsoever.

Second of all, I don't get forced to do anything.

So why was I here on this ice rink, wearing ridiculous skates and wobbling uncontrollably even though I was holding on to the edge?

Because Violet looked amazing on the ice.

The last time she made me come watch her skate, I had sat down on that damp wooden bench in my big brown sweater and stared at her for at least an hour without ever taking my eyes off of her as she leaped and breezed around the rink.

She stepped on to it looking like she had just had two cups of coffee, and she finished looking like she had never had a cup of coffee in her life. It took all of my strength not to walk on to the ice to join her.

So I am now. 

I waited for her to pass me again. She rounded the corner and gave me a quick smile as she twirled and flew around me, her red hoodie and black track pants blending together in a blur.

Most of the people who passed me didn't give me a second glance, but the occasional few looked at me, puzzled, as if I didn't fit into this picturesque postcard setting. Of course I didn't, so I stared right back at them and they skated away, uneasy. 

I tried to push away from the edge and fell almost immediately. I struggled to upright myself, not bothering to check how many people were staring at me. Violet didn't care.

If Violet didn't care, I didn't care. 

The End

1 comment about this story Feed