Page 18 of Oh, Flutz!

“Left!”

“Right!”

“Left!”

“Right!”

Over. And over. And over. And over.

“Switch!” Lian yells out again, and we change direction simultaneously, only this time we don’t slow down and we start moving into crossovers at regular speed (read: fast) as we near the corner of the ice.

We keep doing it, laps upon laps of stroking and crossovers, forwards and backwards, getting a feel for each other. My thighs are burning, and I can feel the sweat pouring off me.

“Again!”

“Again?We’ve been doing this for an hour already!”

“Yeah, and now you have to relearn how to skate, this time with someone on top of you the whole time. If one of you trips over the other, you’re both screwed. We’re still doing basic skills today.”

“But we haven’t been tripping,” Katya interjects. “Shouldn’t we move onto elements instead of wasting time?”

My eyebrows nearly fly off my face. “Are you agreeing with me?”

“I don’t want to be near you any longer than I have to.”

Lian nods, ignoring us. “You aren’t tripping, and that’s good. Means that we can move faster. But I’m the coach here, and I know what I’m doing. Trust me. We need to make sure even the easiest of skills are rock solid.”

I’m expecting this girl to throw yet another fit, but she just sighs. “Alright.”

I can tell Lian appreciates the cooperation, even if she barely shows it. I have a feeling she already likes Katya better than me. It has to be a testament to how impossible I am to train that the evil Ice Queen is preferable.

At least she can land a quad. At least sheplaces.

“Ten more laps, then we’ll start lifts.”

I’m not nervous.

I’m not. Just because my hands are slick and the feeling in the pit of my stomach is back and my throat feels like that one time I’d had an allergic reaction to the infamous Francine, the fun little critter that Alexandra had decided to smuggle back from sleepaway camp in her duffel bag—doesn’t mean I’m nervous.

I’m starting to think I might be allergic to skating, though. It would explain the tightness in my chest, the nausea, and the all-consuming dread that seems to set in the second I step foot on the ice.

“Okay, time for a waist lift. Nothing to it. Bryan, you’re going to grab her, then lift her straight up.” Lian points her finger at me. “Just do it. Don’t get cute.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Are we talking Lion King?”

Lian rolls her eyes at the stupid comparison, but nods, and Katya turns, the barest trace of confusion on her frigid features. “What?”

“The Disney movie? Come on. There’s no way you haven’t seen it.”

She throws me a dark look, and I bite back the glee. This is just way too fun. I’ll take my victories wherever I can get them, because I’m clearly not about to get them on the ice.

Katya turns around so I’m facing her back, and I frown for a second, trying to figure out how to do this. She’s tiny—in the same way that Chucky is tiny—but despite how horrifying her personality already is, I have a feeling it’ll only get worse if my hold isn’t right and I drop her on her ass.

Forget it.I just grab her, lifting her off the ground, until I have to crane my neck around her shoulders to see Lian. “Like that?”

“Higher.”

“Likethat?”

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