Page 76 of Oh, Flutz!

“I thought you wanted to skate,” I say hotly.

He grabs my hand and tries to yank me forward, but I see him coming a mile away, so I’m able to move forward right as he tries to throw me off, and we take off into extremely quick crossovers, the freezing air relentlessly whipping in our faces as we race across the ice.

“Is that really all you got?” I taunt, and he lets out a laugh, tugging me by the waist through the next part of the choreography.

“Trust me, sunshine, you don’t want to see me cranked all the way up.”

“Please. Your idea of all the way up would make my grandfather look like a speed skater.”

Bryan gives me a nasty smile. “Wanna bet?”

I turn around and lift my arms so he can secure his own around my torso, flipping me so I’m facing him and lifting me up so I can balance my skates on top of his and lean back, stretching towards an imaginary panel of judges.

I can’t see him, but I know that he’s doing the same, only straightened and leaning on the outside edges of his spread eagle position. Everything’s upside down as we glide across the ice, and I’m acutely aware of his hands on the small of my back. I straighten up and jump backwards off of him, landing on two feet, and Bryan promptly loses his balance from the loss of my weight, stumbles, and falls over.

I let out a little laugh. “Sure, I’ll take that bet.”

He gives me a death glare. “That wasn’t even showing off. That was just dumb.”

I skate back over, leaning my hands on my knees as I crouch forward. I stick a hand out. “My, you really are a sore loser.”

He looks back up at me, a different irritation flashing across his face. “Not everything is a damn competition, Katya.”

I shrug. “Maybe you’d think differently if you ever did well in them.”

Bryan laughs, but he isn’t smiling. He gets up on his own. “What’s your problem, huh? Seriously.”

Why does he always ask me that? It’s like he can’t help himself. All he wants to do is pick me apart so he can understand me. But letting someone understand you can only end badly. It gives them an instruction manual on how to cause you pain. And I don’t care if I’m being harsh, because I’m not stupid—or maybe I’m just too used to the real world to believe that he only wants to know me.

“You’ve asked me that about a hundred times already,” I say.

“Yeah, well, I want an answer. You always do this. We’re getting along fine, and then you have to go and beyouagain.”

“Then why do you keep being surprised?”

Something unnerving passes over his face. “Why do you always act like wanting to see the good in people is a character flaw?”

I’m reminded of what he told me about his parents. “Maybe it’d do you good to stop being so hopeful. You might be less miserable.”

He stares at me, long and hard. “What? Like you?”

“I—”You can dish it, but you can’t take it, can you?His snide words from when we first met echo in my mind.

He shakes his head, skating past me as I stand there, unable to think of something to hit back with. “Let’s just move, Andreyeva. We clearly aren’t getting anywhere.”

“I shouldn’t even bother, if you’re just going to screw up the side-by-sides tomorrow,” I snap, and he just keeps shaking his head.

“Go for it. Put all the blame on me. Because everything is always my fault, right?”

“Finally, you get it. It only took you a year.”

“More like twenty,” he says under his breath, and I glance back up at him. Before I can reply, he grabs my wrist and drags me out to the middle.

“Side-by-sides. Quad Sal, quad toe. Let’s see who’s screwing it up for us tomorrow.”

“Didn’t think there was any question of that,” I manage, trying to keep up. The Canadians barely get out of our way in time, giving us weird looks.

He’s going too fast. When Bryan’s pissed, he skates without any regard for himself or anyone else. He’s going to get hurt because of it. I nearly trip over my toe pick, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction.

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