Page 25 of Wonderstruck

Wait.

The form was only for skaters looking for a competition coach. That wasn’tme. I wasn’t trying to compete. I wasn’t even looking for lessons. I just needed a rink—a moment to see if this was something I wanted.Would it hurt to ask?

Aspen had been close to Mom. She’d followed in her footsteps, and if she stillremembered her enough to mention her in that post, maybe… maybe she’d remember me too.

I didn’t let myself overthink it. I quickly searched for the rink’s address, savingit to my maps before throwing on my pyjamas and turning off my phone for the night.

As I curled into bed, a flicker of hope warmed my chest. For the first time in along while, I fell asleep without crying.

Even though mittens were the definition of childish, I couldn’t help but adorethem. They were just so cute, and the fact that they attached to my wrists with little clips so I could slip them off without losing them? Whoever came up with that deserved a lifetime of cold pillows.

The walk to the rink gave me far too much time to mentally spiral about what I was going to say to Aspen. If she was even there.

“Hi, Aspen! It’s me, Rory, remember? No? Okay, great. Bye!”

I think that would give me the confidence to bawl every time I saw an iceskate.

I was mid-contemplation, tugging my scarf tighter to stop the September chill sneaking under my coat, when I turned the corner and found myself looking up at the rink. The elegant sign swung gently in the wind, its cursive lettering catching the light. The sight of it froze me, my breath puffing out in quick clouds.

Before I could let myself chicken out, I tightened the straps on my bag,straightened my shoulders, and strode up to the door. My eyes traced the swirls of the sign as I passed under it, feeling a weird mix of nerves and excitement that made my heart race. I wrapped my hand around the handle and took a deep breath.

My dark braids fell over my outfitas I yanked off my woolly hat, immediately regretting the decision as I sank further into the rink, the frosty air hitting me was even colder than the one I’d been walking in, forcing me to wrap my arms around my torso to stop whatever heat I had in me from escaping.

The reception area was so quiet I could’ve sworn I’d stumbled into a libraryinstead of an ice rink. No one was at the desk, no phones were ringing—just me and the soft hum of the building. For a second, I debated walking right back out. But then my brain unhelpfully reminded me that I’d walked ten blocks in mittens that made me look like a third-grader, and I wasn’t about to let all that effort go to waste.

I pushed through another set of glass doors, wandering further until I reachedthe rink itself. And there she was.

Aspen English.

She was mid-spin, her tracksuit I’d seen online swapped out for a casual workout set that matchedher fiery auburn hair, which was now neatly tucked into a sock bun. The loose curls framing her face bounced as she finished her turn.

I stayed frozen, not from the cold but because—well, what now? I had no plan. I’d just shown up like some weirdo thinking I could wing this.

Tiptoeing along the rink’s edge, I watched her glide across the ice like sheowned it, the soft scrape of her blades like a lullaby. Her expression was so serene, so full of something unshakable, that for a moment, I almost forgot why I was here.

What if she didn’t have time for me? Or what if she looked at me and thought,“Who is this really tall third grader and why is she interrupting me”?

Or she could be nice to me. And I was just overthinking things.

But even so, would she recognise me? I was barely the same person I’d been atthirteen. Okay, not true—I still had the same haircut because change is terrifying, but you get the point.

I was starting to sweat. Oh no. Was that my upper lip sweating? Oh God.This was a mistake.

Before I could think, I spun around, making a beeline for the door like my lifedepended on it, when—

“Hey!”

Her voice stopped me before Icould take a step.

My shoes squeaked on the mats asI turned back around, forcing myself to face her.

Aspen skated to the edge of therink, her green eyes narrowing slightly as she studied me. For a moment, her expression was unreadable, and then her eyes widened, almost knowing. “Can I help you?”

“Uh.” My brain short-circuited. Itried to speak again, but all that came out was, “Uh.”

Good start,Rory.

I swallowed, setting my eyes backon her. “Yeah. Um. I don’t know if youremember me—”

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