Page 28 of Puck Shots
9
Cosmo
Igrab an OJ from the fridge, down it in two and go to toss the bottle in the recycling when I spot the same bottle only missing its label already in there. My eyes immediately dart around the room looking for the origami Eli has made from it. Hopefully, no one else has found it already. I’ve come to find his little creations around the house and have about fifteen in my top drawer now. I spot something white peeking through a bunch of bananas in the fruit bowl. When I slide it out, I find the label folded into the shape of a monkey. How does he do this?
“Are you sure about this?” Eli asks from behind me, and I slip the monkey into my pocket and sling my training bag over my shoulder.
“Sure. I swear, skating is not as hard as it looks.”
“It looks pretty hard. Maybe I should just get video from the sidelines.”
“Don’t be silly. Look, at least give it a shot.”
“Fine, but if I totally suck, you have to promise not to laugh.”
“I’d never laugh at you.”
His cheeks blush a little as his lips pick up in that adorable smile.
“Okay, let’s go before I lose my nerve.”
Getting ice time is hard with hockey season starting soon, but I was lucky to grab an hour before training today. I slip on my skates and pass Eli, my pair from last year. He watches intently as I do them up, copying me and then standing hesitantly.
“So right now you have the guards on. When we get down here, you’ll have to take them off, and then we’ll step onto the ice.”
“I’m really not sure about this.”
“You’ll be fine, trust me.”
He follows me down to the gate, and I take off my guards and step through to the ice. The second my blades touch it, I feel like I’m home. A rush of calm washes over me, and I take a second to breathe in the cool air as I turn in place, waiting for Eli to join me.
“Here goes nothing,” he says, taking off the guards and gripping the rail so tight his fingers turn white.
When he steps onto the ice, his first skate goes to slide out to the side, and he pulls it back, slamming his ankle against the wall with a thud.
“Take it slow,” I say, moving to stand beside him. He takes a breath, holding it as he lifts his other leg to step fully onto the ice with me.
“See hard part done,” I cheer, and he laughs, finally letting the air out of his lungs in a soft cloud.
“Staying upright is going to be the hard part,” he says, his legs wobbling a little.
“Actually getting back up after you fall down is harder.”
“Like I needed more reason to not fall on my ass.”
“Just keeping it real. Okay, so first things first, you need to relax.”
“I’m essentially standing on two knives, trying not to fall over and slice through my arm or something, not exactly a calm situation.”
“Take a slow breath, feel the cool air fill your lungs, focus on the way it cools your whole body from the inside out, forget about your feet, just focus on your breath,” I tell him, and he closes his eyes and breathes slowly, purposefully. I watch his chest move up and down as his warm breath sends clouds of air past his lips.
“Now take my hands,” I say, and surprisingly, he reaches out with one hand first, still his eyes remain closed.
“Trust me,” I say, and his other hand lifts up to find mine. His grip is tight at first, and as I pull him away from the wall, his feet gliding along the ice following my direction, his grip starts to lessen and his eyes flicker open.
“Holy shit, I’m doing it.”
“See, easy,” I say, and he turns his head to see how far he’s come, but he turns his body too much, and then like we’re in some slow-motion skit, his skates go out from under him. He grabs my arms, eyes going wide, spinning us sideways until I land with a thud, back against the ice, his long warm body pressed against mine.
