Page 104 of My Last Dance

After leaving the ice, he paced back and forth through the rink hallway while the other teams took the ice.

He stopped suddenly and looked down at the stretchy pants I designed for him. “Ya know, I always peed a little in my cup before faceoffs.”

I pulled a grossed-out face. “Donotpee in those. I am not remaking them,” I warned.

He let out a dry laugh. “These nerves are on a totally different level. Now I know why Al Pal barfed that one time.”

“Oh my God.” I snorted a laugh. “I forgot about that.” She barfed right on the ice before being announced at Regionals one year. “Didn’tJP—”

“Punch me in the face for laughing? Yeah. But now I understand.” He swallowed hard. “With hockey, you get the nerves out on the first shift, then you have more chances. With this, there’s only one shot.”

“We only need one,” I said confidently.

His eyes darted around nervously. “I don’t wanna mess this up for you. I feel like I’m shaking.”

“Hey.” I walked into him and grabbed his hands. “It’s for us, not just me. And I’m just happy I get to dance with you.”

He flexed his jaw. Then he squeezed my hand three times, shocking me with a sense of deja vu. I stared down at our hands. He hadn’t done that in years. I almost forgot he ever did that.

“Ready?” Patrick asked, startling me.

I gave Patrick a nod before looking up at Kappy. “Just focus on the song, play your part, okay?”

He smirked as he shook out each leg. “Been playing this part for years.”

I did a double take at that statement, but I had to box up my questions for later. We had a job to do.

It was our turn to take the ice.

“Just like we practiced,” I whispered to him while we stepped onto the ice.

“Please give a warm welcome to Piper Wyndell-Hamilton and Richard Kappers of the Coliseum Ice Club,” the announcer’s voice blared through the speakers while we presented ourselves.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, looking panic-stricken.

“Hey, you’re okay,” I said as steadily as I could.

Silence descended on us while we waited for our music. Now I wished we had a starting position where we were touching so I could comfort him. Standing ten feet away while his body was slightly trembling felt cruel.

“Hey,” I whispered, making his eyes dart to mine. “The rest of the world? It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t even exist. It’s just us,” I said, echoing his much-needed words to me from a couple months ago.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

The first few beats ofIrisplayed, and we smoothed toward each other. His eyes stayed glued to mine, and the nerves seemed to fall away.

________

After our skate, I waited with bated breath for the results. Kappy and Patrick were chatting in the locker room, but I couldn’t leave the hallway where runners were taping up the results.

When a teenage girl wearing a home rink vest and holding a clipboard came into sight, my body went tight with nerves.

As soon as she taped up the sheet of paper on the results wall, people swarmed her.

I slowly walked over to the cinderblock wall, my legs slightly trembling, knowing that if we didn’t place, our journey would be over.

And this journey somehow became bigger than just skating.

Somewhere along the way, I liked being forced to live with Kappy, and I really didn’t want the excuse to be near him, to hold his hand, to skate with him, to suddenly disappear.

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