Page 43 of Oh, Flutz!

“Hey!”

Alex completely ignores me, instead lighting up. “Oh my god, you should totally take her downtown to that place you used to take me. Katya, you haven’t lived until you’ve had Maple Creme soft serve, I promise you.”

“Soft serve? Isn’t all ice cream soft?”

I shake my head in pretend disappointment. “My lovely, yet fantastically uncultured partner, everyone.”

Said lovely partner reaches for the pillow under her arm and tosses it at my head.

“Hey!” I protest, and she squints at me, ice-cold glare in full force.

“Don’t call me stupid.”

“I called you uncultured, sunshine, there’s a difference.”

“Well, I’m a better skater than you, so there’sthatdifference.”

Alexandra lets out anmm!sound mid-milk sip. “That reminds me. What are you guys working on right now, anyway?”

“Quad toes,” I say miserably. Katya snorts.

“So dramatic. You’ll get it. Maybe.”

“Oh my god, I love her,” she cackles, and I throw the pillow Katya just pelted me with at her head.

“If I don’t get it in practice tomorrow when the choreographer is here, we can’t put it in the program,” I shoot back. “If we can’t put it in the program, then we have less and less of a chance of winning.”

“And what’s the problem? You can’t land it yet?”

I drag a hand over my face, drawing out a sigh that’s just as exhausted and heavy as I feel. “God, I don’t know. I can do it off-ice. I can do itonice. It’s like, whenever I’m supposed to do it for someone, my legs just forget what they’re doing.”

Katya takes a sip of her tea, then sets it down on the one of my mom’sLive, Laugh, Lovecoasters.Laughis now covered. “If you ask me, it’s a psychological problem, not physical.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you seize up whenever you feel like someone is watching you. You don’t like the expectation. That now you have to deliver to their expectation.”

I lift my glass to my lips, forcing a smile. “I think maybe we stick to blaming the legs.”

She fixes her stare on me. “I think maybe we face the issue instead of running away.”

Alexandra reaches over to ruffle my hair, and I duck away in annoyance. “He’s just like our dad. Can’t stand B.S. from anyone else, but feeds it to himself all day long.”

“I’m not running away from anything,” I say curtly, in response to Katya. I can’t even think about what my sister just fucking said to me. I can’t. It’sfine. “Now, can we just—"

Katya’s not letting up. “No. Because if you recognize what’s wrong, then you can fix it. And then we can put the quad toe in the program. Then, we can win.”

Leave me alone. Please just leave me alone.“Fine. Whatever,” I say lightly, holding the air in my lungs tight so I don’t lose control. “What episode did we leave off on?”

Chapter Thirteen

KATYA

Walking into the Younghouse felt like walking into a hug—the air is warm, smelling like cinnamon sugar and that indescribable way things that have been stored away for a long time do. Like memories.

It feels natural to be here, curled up on the sofa with the first cup of tea I’ve had since my last weekend with my grandfather, with Bryan and his little sister, the former of which with his head tipped back on the couch cushion and his mouth half-open as he lets out tiny snores.

Looking at the two of them, Alexandra resting her head on her brother’s shoulder, their similarity finally hits me. At first glance, it isn’t obvious. Her hair has a more strawberry tint to it than his, her skin is covered in freckles where he has none, and she barely comes up to Bryan’s armpit. But they have the same bright ocean-blue eyes, wavy hair and, of course, the same sunny smile. Radiating sunshine must run in this family.

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