Page 140 of My Merry Mistake
I wobble and cling to him. “Not ready for that yet.”
“I’m going to keep doing it if it means you’re going to hold onto me like that.” He laughs and leads me through the kind of “how to skate” lesson he might give to a toddler. We start by bending our knees, finding our balance, and doing little marches on the ice. Every time I wobble, he’s there to make sure I don’t fall.
My face is so hot it could melt ice right now, a combination of embarrassment and Finn’s nearness, and I give the rink a cursory look to see if anyone’s watching me.
They’re not.
“Yeah, you look ridiculous, Hart,” he says when he notices me looking around. “Own it.” Then he leans closer. “Nobody cares.”
I start to loosen up, so much that when Finn grabs my waist and leads me around the edge of the rink, I actually feel a breeze in my hair. It makes me feel free, even though I’m basically a stiff ragdoll in his hands. But it’s fun—I can’t help but laugh out loud, in spite of my feeble protestations.
Finn’s right—nobody cares. And more importantly—if I’m having fun, why does it matter what anyone else thinks about it?
I know this ice rink is not the place for philosophical epiphanies about my life, but it almost feels like something inside me cracked open.
Eloise, who looks a little like a baby giraffe, wobbles past us, whips her arms around in circles as she tries to stay upright but tips over and lands on her butt. She laughs and Gray shoots over from who-knows-where to help her up as I go back to my small marches.
“I thought you’d be better by now,” I hear Gray say to my sister.
I start to get the hang of it, but I’m still clinging to Finn. Crosby whips past us with a low whistle, followed by Junior and Kari, who pretty much look like a pair of ice dancers at the Olympics.
My skate slips, and I start to fall, but Finn catches me again. I let out a nervous laugh. “I’m terrible at this.”
“You’re doing great.”
“You’re just being nice.”
He laughs softly, and my brain shifts into high gear again, trying to imagine what an actual relationship with Finn would look like.
I like him. I’m attracted to him.
But enough to act on it? I don’t know. For the life of me, I can’t see myself with someone who plays video games and watches cartoons. I can’t get past the thought of falling for a guy who is the exact opposite of what I’ve always imagined for myself.
Even someone as kind as Finn.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Raya
By the afternoon, I should be exhausted, but I feel oddly energized.
After skating, we walked around the booths, ate too much food, did a little shopping, and I actually let myself loosen up.
It was nice.
I think I’m going to like having a life.
As the group disbands, I say goodbye to my sisters, then walk over to say goodbye to Finn. “Thanks again—for helping me skate.”
“It was fun.” He smiles, then looks past me, back to the shrinking group.
“It was.” I stand there for a few seconds, then smile back at him. “Well, I’ll?—”
“Are you tired?” he asks.
I pull my gloves out of my pockets and tug them on. “Shockingly, no. I think I’m going to be up late tonight. Adrenaline rush or something.”
I should say goodbye and walk away—any progress I’ve made convincing my heart to listen to my head will be undone if Idon’t. And yet, I hear myself say, “I recordedThe Polar Expresslast night.”
