Page 185 of Snap Shot

I knock both blades into the wood riser.

Landon counts the eyelets and pulls horizontally at the laces by my toes. “First and second, really tight.” His fingers move up, the sear of his touch through the leather-like fabric making my feet go sweaty. “Three, a little tight. Four and five, super loose.” He taps against the skate. “Now, six will be really tight again.” Every tug is more satisfying than the last. “And these top two are gonna be snug.”

A fantasy teases, dragging me away from the moment. What if I kiss him now?

“A nice solid knot up here to finish you off…”

Yes. Please finish me off. “We'll adjust the tongue…”

Tongue, definitely. But before that, I'll tell him I love him and he'll kiss me back and say, “Indi, forget about the stupid game. We're going inside and staying there.”

And then I’ll say—

“How's that feel?”

“Hmm?”

“The skates. Stable?”

We lock eyes. “Perfect.” I'm not talking about the laces, though it's true. “How'd you remember that?”

Landon takes a seat next to me, gaze dropping to his fists as he ties on his own skates. “We were so sloppy with our laces. Me, all of us guys.” He repeats the lacing pattern. “Coach got so pissed when he saw how we rushed through it. He told us to get serious and watch how you do yours. I don't know if any of them listened, but I did. And I've never gone back.”

My insides go molten. Landon Radek paid attention to me—laces his thousand-dollar skates like I did as a kid.

“Ready to go?” His fingers fidget against the thighs of his grey sweats.

“Yep.”

Every incessant, nervous thought swirls and expands until the moment we step foot at the mouth of the route. The ice beneath me mutes the internal noise. But not the external.

“Wanna race?”

I slide my eyes to the side in Landon's direction. “Not everything is a competition.”

“Isn't it though?” He waits for a response.

I give him one. Without counting down, I take off.

“You're such a cheat!” He huffs while catching up.

“Losers always say that when they'relosing.” I try to shove him into the snow barrier, but he regains balance and narrowly escapes around the sharp turn. Frozen cranberry bogs flank us and disappear. We share childish laughter while rushing down the last stretch to the big pond. I strain through inhales at the bottom. “I win.”

“Yeah, right. Cheaters get disqualified.”

The aunts and uncles linger at the opposite bank while Seth and Delaney hold Gunnar's hands on one end. Sadie teeters about nearby as others set up the nets. One of his cousins uses a passer to practice. They're all wearing different Regents hockey sweaters and pommed toques. Daisy and Babi wear his Michigan ones while standing to the side. His sister wears Jaeger's jersey, probably to piss him off.

I stick out like an obvious outsider in my simple puffy jacket.

“Crawford!” Landon asks for sticks and gloves with grabby hands. His cousin tosses two sets over, and he heads back to offer one to me before returning to the middle.

I slide on the extra gloves and get acquainted with the weight of the stick, testing the various movements.

Gary shoots a puck into the t-bar with a loudping.

“Nice snipe, asswipe!” Landon yells through a cupped hand.

“Language!” Daisy and Delaney yell back.

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