Page 79 of Fair Play
No one can hear us over the music and laughter of the children, but I still look around for Bodi. Luckily, he’s on the ice with Rowan and Blake.
“I’m…nervous. This is about more than whether or not Ican. It’s about everything I lost. My parents. My dreams. My future.”
“That’s exactlywhyyou have to put them on.”
“Hello, sweetheart.” Rome’s mom settles on my other side. “I hear you might be a little nervous about skating.”
I nod.
“Well, I’ve never ice skated in my life, so if I can do it, you can do it.” She pauses, kind eyes exactly like her son’s fixed on mine. “Shall we try together?”
I blink back a tear.
“Y-yes. Okay.” I look down at the skates with trepidation.
“I won’t let you fall,” Rome breathes in my ear. “And with my mom with us, he won’t suspect anything.
Somehow, with Mrs. Castellano urging and gently nudging me along, I get them on my feet.
“Your body knows what to do,” Rome reminds me. “All you have to do is pay attention.”
“Bodi told me not to skate today.” I manage a small laugh. “So of course, I’m going to do the opposite.”
Rome holds out his hands—one to me and one to his mom.
“Come on, you two.”
We clomp down to the ice, and I let Mrs. Castellano go first. She steps on the ice and swings her arms wildly before Rome steadies her.
“Easy, Ma. Just hold the boards and get used to how it feels.”
“Itfeelslike this was a terrible idea,” she grumbles.
“It’s not so bad if you glide,” I say automatically. “Don’t try to walk—that’s a disaster. Just push off with one foot and glide.” To my complete astonishment, I step onto the ice and demonstrate.
I only go a couple of feet but then the realization of what I’ve done hits me and I start to go down, but Rome is right there, arm around my waist.
“Easy. You did fine. Stop thinking. Let your body take over.”
I pull in a sharp breath. “Okay. I’ve got this.” I glide over to the boards next to his mom and focus on her. “You okay?”
“I’m fifty-six years old and probably going to break a hip or something, so no, I’m not okay!” She makes a grumpy face.
“Want to hold my hand?” I offer.
“How about I hold each of your hands?” Rome suggests.
His mother and I nod in unison, so he takes our hands and we glide forward.
A million thoughts race through my mind as we move, but the anticipated emotional pain doesn’t come. Instead, it’s just memories.
I remember my mom teaching both Bodi and me to skate. Following Bodi around at the rink as he started playing hockey. The pride my parents felt every time I performed a routine, even if I fell or didn’t get a good score.
Mostly, I remember how much I loved it.
That part of my life is over but now I can think back on it without crying. And remember the good parts.
“Hey, Billie!” Stevie skates over to us.
