Page 75 of Oh, Flutz!

I’ve been ignoring him all morning, but I toss him a glare, skidding to a stop by the boards. “I’m wearing gloves.”

“Yeah, and I can still feel it. Stop.”

“I can’t stop,” I hiss, and he frowns.

“Are you tweaking or something? Did you have too much coffee this morning?”

“No,” I snap. I did have to have a third cup, though, considering I barely slept. Like,at all.Scraped together, it was probably under four hours. I’m not tweaking, and that’s the problem. I’m off my game. And now is not the time for it.

After I got the email late last week from Sanjiv (with Lian copied), a PDF attached with over forty pages of treatment plans and “what to expects” outlined, I nearly deleted it on the spot. There is just so much that I need to do to get over this. And maybe I should have deleted it, because Step One—stop taking the meds—is the reason I can feel every cell in my body vibrating right now.

“Katya, what’s wrong?” Bryan asks, a wary edge in his voice.

“Why don’t you ask Lian? You already snitch to her about everything I do, anyway.”

He opens his mouth to object, then closes it, something in his face softening almost imperceptibly. “Sit down.”

“What?”

“Just sit, will you?” He motions towards the bench, and I swallow before obliging, the solidity a welcome change from all the shakiness. He kneels down in front of me, reaching for my skate.

I snatch my foot back before he can touch it. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Your laces are loose,” my partner says simply, and I scoff.

“I can tie my own laces.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” My voice lets out a traitorous crack. “I can.”

“Go ahead, then.”

I lean over, suppressing the urge to scream at the sight of my completely unfastened laces that look like a six-year-old did them up, remembering how this morning I had given up attempting to do them normally after I had completely lost the ability to move my trembling fingers. I try to ignore Bryan’s blue eyes on me as I hesitate, then try to pick at them. I keep taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. My hands.Work, damnit!I choke on air as control keeps escaping me.

That’s when I feel another pair of hands gently fold over mine, leading them back to my lap. Bryan’s fingers start undoing the strings, nimbly loosening the knots, then working back up from the bottom of the boot, pulling them taut on each side. It’s taking every part of me not to start crying, and I know he knows it. He does me the favor of pretending not to.

Suddenly, I’m a child again, getting her skates laced up for her. Completely fucking helpless.

Bryan does a final double knot, and lets go. “That feel okay?” he asks casually, and I jerk my head yes.

Say thank you, Katya. My blood is boiling. I can’t tell whether I’m going to scream or sob.Just say thank you, and move on. He’s not judging you. You know he isn’t. Stop punishing him.

“This is your fault,” I whisper.

Bryan’s eyes harden, the softness falling away. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I inhale sharply, roughly wiping at my face. “I don’t care enough to bother with jokes. Let’s just skate.”

“After you,” he says mockingly, after a split second of staring in disbelief, gesturing to the sheet of ice around us. “You’re the one that’s been holding us up.”

“Raspizdyai.”I get up, pushing past him, then storm out to center ice, weaving through the other skaters. I don’t bother pretending like I can stand my partner just because there’s people around. I throw my hands up, planting one on my hip as I yell, “Well? Come on!”

Even twenty feet away, I can see his face flushing from anger. He skates out to meet me, jaw clenched tight enough for me to pick out individual muscles at work. “I like you better when you shut your damn mouth,” he says, and I widen my eyes, batting my lashes at him.

“Really? Most guys like it better open.” He flushes beet red, and I smirk at him. “Too bad, huh?”

“You’re just lucky I’m stuck with you. Otherwise I would’ve dumped you faster than you could saydo svidaniya.”

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