Page 17 of Oh, Flutz!

Alright. That’s it. I dig my toe picks in the ice, get on my feet, then race to where she’s just shown me up for the millionth time since the beginning of this never-ending practice. Which, according to the time up there, was less than ten minutes ago.

This is going to be the worst year of my life.

I glance over my shoulder to where I’m jumping, trying to ignore Katya’s eyes digging into my skin.Just ignore her. She’s not there. No one is here. Triple Axels are my favorite jump under normal circumstances, I can do them in my sleep when my skin isn’t crawling like this, like after all those falls back at Nationals two weeks ago—shut up and focus, Young.I shut my eyes and just go for it.

Almost.

“Damn it!”I pop the jump, land on both feet, no rotations completed, basically just a drunk-looking hop off the ice—I panicked, I freaked, I failedagain.

“Impressive,” Katya says dryly, and I flush red.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t staring at me, crossing your fingers I mess up,” I snap, and she rolls her eyes.

“Yes, blame me. Because I am the one causing your mistake, right? Not you?”

“Yeah, exactly,” I say sardonically. “And for the record, I don’t want to impress you. I could give a shit about your opinion.”

“I can see that. You look very constipated.”

Luckily, before I can do something else to really piss off Chris Heffner, Lian slams her gigantic Stanley coffee thermos down on the boards with a massive bang that ricochets like a gunshot.

“Alright! Enough horsing around. It’s been real fun watching you two bitch like middle school girls, but, in case you’ve forgotten, we have real work to do.” She gets to her feet, then steps onto the ice, stopping in front of us. “Bryan, get your head in the game. Katya, stopgettingin his head. Hate to break it to you guys, but you’re partners now, and you better damn learn to act like it.”

“I haven’t said yes for sure yet,” Katya interjects, and it takes all my self-control not to yellThank you, Captain Obvious!Not that there’s any real point in her dragging this out so painfully, other than maybe a dedication to making everyone’s lives harder, namely mine. She’shere, isn’t she? She’s showed up to practice all week, much to my disappointment, because now I owe Ollie and Nina twenty bucks and the next round at Moby’s—although I’m one hundred percent sure that Ollie was also positive Katya wouldn’t show and only sided with Nina for a chance at free alcohol.

The point is, she’s going to say yes. She’s here, she’s moving, she signed the papers. She doesn’t really have a choice, either. And, oh, boy, is that gratifying.

So is Lian’s withering glare. “Yes, thank you for the reminder. And for proving me right. You’re being ridiculous.Bothof you,” she corrects, just as I start smiling. “Bryan, come on. Do better, alright?”

I cross my arms, scratching at the ice with my blade instead of looking at either of them. I know full well I’m acting like a toddler, but I can’t help myself. This girl brings out the worst in me.

“Bryan. Stop ruining my ice and get behind her.”

I roll my eyes, then oblige.

“Now put your hand on her waist. You’re going to do some laps, get a feel for each other.”

“But—”

“No buts. You’ve never had problems feeling girls up before, Young, do it now.”

I bite back a laugh, then lean into Katya’s ear. “She’s not kidding.”

Her lips tighten.

“Just telling the truth. By the way, I can’t feel you up with your arms that tight, sunshine.”

She lets out a fake laugh, then thrusts her arms straight out. I grunt as one of them juts between my ribs. “Svolach.American pig.”

“Wow, calling me by my nationality, I’m so offended.”

“Oh, you’ll be offended when I rip your—”

“Guys!”Steam is practically blowing out of Lian’s ears. “Get out there!”

Katya yanks my hand and secures it on her waist, keeping her own tightly over it and gripping my other hand, rocketing off before I even realize what’s happening. I nearly trip over my own feet but scramble to catch up.

It only takes a beat, though, and soon enough we’re running laps around the rink like it’s nothing. It’s sort of like dancing, only way faster and a lot less exhausting. The one thing I know about pairs is that you’re supposed to match up with your partner, so I attempt to find some kind of rhythm with her, even if she’s blasting across the ice so goddamn fast I’m getting the feeling she’s trying to leave me behind on purpose. Which wouldn’t surprise me.

---