Page 73 of The Devil Wears Tartan

“She’s busy,” I say, fighting to keep my voice even.

I’m being stupid. I’m latching onto her just like I did to Savannah in Johannesburg.

As Savannah clearly informed me, it’s not a hot look.

“Oh. Okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

I stoop down to load my final garment bag into my arms, my fingers curled into little claws to keep hold of the loads of fabric. I grunt as I press up out of my ungraceful squat.

“I don’t think so. Let’s just—”

I get interrupted by the sound of another pair of footsteps approaching behind me.

“I can come!”

I turn and peer over the edge of my stack of costumes to find Kenzie beaming at me. Her cheeks are tinged pink, and she’s a little out of breath, like she ran all the way back here. I forget all my momentary shame and go right back to blatantly staring at her gorgeous face.

Lydia coughs.

“Skating!” Kenzie clarifies. “I can’t stay long, but I can join for a bit. I just need to figure out what to do with these costumes. Oh, and I don’t have skates. I can rent some, right?”

“You sure can!” Lydia answers when I don’t show any signs of being able to speak. “And I’m sure you can just throw those in the car with Moira’s stuff. Her mom is taking us to the canal.”

Kenzie glances between the two of us. “Would that be okay?”

I nod as I finally find my voice again. “That would be perfect.”

* * *

Half an hour later, Kenzie, Lydia, Ty and I are all lacing ourselves into skates while we sit crammed on a bench at Dow’s Lake, one of the entry points onto the canal.

“I’m really going to regret not making time to get these sharpened,” I announce as I tie the final knot on my pair of well-worn, white leather figure skates. “I haven’t been out since last winter.”

“You’ll be fine,” Lydia says, waving a hand at me as she pushes herself up off the bench.

Ty follows after her, laughing as they reach for the hand she extends to them. The two of them almost lose their balance before getting their footing and taking a few test strides along the ice.

Lydia’s eyes haven’t lost their enthralled glimmer since Ty showed up to meet us. They’re a good looking person, with deep brown eyes and dark hair that falls into their eyes whenever they laugh, which seems to be a lot when they’re around Lydia. We met once before a couple weeks ago, and they got my immediate bestie seal of approval.

I watch them both join the crowd of skaters all bundled up in scarves and hats. The scraping sound of skate blades fills the frigid air. My breath clouds in front of my face each time I breathe out, but the sun is giving off a bright evening glow that makes the snow banks lining the ice sparkle.

Far ahead, I can see where the lake narrows into the canal, grey stone walls rising up on either side to create a tunnel effect for the hundreds of skaters out here enjoying their Saturday. This is Canada’s longest skating rink; you can get all the way downtown from here without ever stepping off the ice, and it draws crowds all winter long.

“Want to go join them?” I ask Kenzie.

She’s just sat up after finishing with the laces of the skates she rented from a tent a few feet away.

“Um, about that...” She chews on her lip and stares down at the white tips of her skates.

“Yes?” I prompt when she doesn’t go on.

I still can’t quite believe she’s sitting next to me, out on an adventure with my friends. It almost feels like stepping into an alternate dimension. Judging by how quiet she’s kept and how nervous she sounds whenever she does talk, Kenzie feels just as disoriented as I do—maybe even more so. I’ve never seen her this unsure of herself.

It’s different from that night at the studio. Then, she may have seemed vulnerable, but she also seemed purposeful, like she was where she wanted to be, even if it scared her.

Today she just seems straight-up scared.

I inch closer to her on the bench until our thighs are touching, and when she doesn’t flinch or scoot away, I rest my gloved hand on her knee.

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