Page 55 of Wonderstruck

And they still were.

I didn't want serious. Couldn't want it. Notwith her. Not with anyone.

I just hated that she was the one to beat the other end of my promise to myself.

I cleared my throat, forcing the knot inmy chest down where it belonged. “So,”I said, wanting more than anything to move on. “How was skating with… what’s her name again?”

“Aspen.” Rory reminded me, before she shrugged, absentmindedly flippingthrough her flashcards, as though she was silently testing herself. “Okay, I suppose.” A look appeared on her face a moment later, like she was giving up on whatever it was she actually wanted to say. As she placed down the cards, and sighed, I had a good inkling that I was right. “She… she asked me to train with her. And maybe,” her head tilted. “potentially compete.”

For a second, I just stared at her, my brain refusing to catch up. Rory’s fingerstwisted in the edge of her notebook, her head tilted down like she was afraid to look at me, like maybe she thought I’d laugh it off or tell her she couldn’t do it.

I shook my head, before dipping my eyes to meet hers. “You’re kidding.”

Her head dipped in the faintest shake, her curls brushing against her cheek. “Nope,” she murmured. “She thinks I could… I mean, if I put in the work, she thinks I might have a shot.”

I blinked. “Rory, that’s insane.” My voice cracked on the last word, but Icouldn’t help it.

Her doh eyes darted up, cautious, searching. “In a good way?”

“In the best way,” I said, leaning forward. “This is huge. I mean, isn’t this whatyou wanted? To see if it was still something that you could do.”

The corners of her mouth twitched, but the smile didn’t fully land. “I wanted tosee if skating was still a part of me. But the idea of training and competing and making it my entire life again…” she shrugged, pulling her knitted sleeves over her knuckles. “it just feels like… a lot,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like this is all happening too fast. Ijuststarted skating again, and now she’s talking about competitions? It’s scary.”

I watched her fingers tighten around the notebook, her fingertips turning paleagainst her skin. She wasn’t saying it outright, but I could feel the doubt radiating off her.

“Okay, but let’s break it down, thinkabout it in baby steps.”

Her gaze bounced to me. “You're usingmy methods on me?”

I shrugged. “I’m a sucker for poeticjustice,” My chest dissipated as I caught her fighting a smile. “Anyway, when you skated with her—did you have fun?”

Her lips parted, the answer already onher face before she spoke. “Yeah,” shesaid softly. “I did.”

I leaned back, letting my shouldersrelax as I shrugged. “And, I’ve never metAspen, but if she’s a big-time coach, then I’m assuming that she doesn’t just tell anyone that they’re good enough to compete. Which in my head means that youweregood enough.”

“I suppose,” she mumbled, her mouth tugging like she didn’t want to admit it.

The table creaked, echoeing as I folded my arms over my notes, clashing with my sigh, which got her eyes on mein time to ask, “And is that enough reassurance for you that maybe you’re meant for this?”

I could practically feel her trying tountangle the mess in her head, and all I wanted to do was reach across the table and pull it apart for her.

“Everything else,” I added, quieter thistime, “is just a bonus so long as you’re happy again.”

As she let out a breath, she satforward, stretching her hands across the table.But as she did her cold fingertips brushed mine. It felt like tiny lightning bolts were zapping between them, and even then I didn’t move. Neither did she.

For a moment, all the noise in myhead—the weight of my dad’s call, the guilt,the constant swirl of worry—just stopped. The faint life that hummed in the library was all that floated between us, the skimming of book pages, the quiet tapping of keys, but even then it wasn’t loud enough for me to miss the way her breathing hitched as I grazed my pinky finger over hers.

It was one of those moments where words felt irrelevant. We could try and havewhatever silent conversation we were having in either of our languages and still, I don’t think my heart would beat as fast as it was with that one, tiny decision.

She didn’t pull away as quickly as I thought she would, letting me fall into thatchasm I’d just promised myself I wouldn’t dare look into. But when she did, I waited for the guilt to hit me. Waited for the moment when I slapped myself for being reckless with my heart.

But it never came.

Luckily, Rory raked her hands through her hair, her mouth parting before Icould sink into the mazes of my mind.“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said finally, her voicebarely above a whisper. “I mean, I’ll try.”

A grin split across my face before Icould stop it. “Call her now. Tell her.”

Her nose scrunched slightly, as her eyessank to her hands. “No, no, I’ll wait—”

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