Page 9 of Skid Spiral

When the urge became too much, I left the rest of my clothes and knelt by the equipment bag. I stuffed a few small items in my purse and then simply grabbed my skates.

I wasn’t going to do anything hardcore on my first day here. Just… take a quick spin on the local rink. Break in the ice.

I slung the skates over my shoulder by the laces and walked to the doorway. “I’m going to check out the skating rink.”

Rafael appeared at the top of the stairs. “Of course you are. Where exactly is it?”

I could picture the layout of the town in my head now. “It’s at the opposite end from here, east side, right on the outskirts. But that means it’s barely any distance at all.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m coming with you.”

I hadn’t expected anything less—and though I wouldn’t have admitted it, part of me was relieved to have the company. Not that it was likely anything around Hobb Creek would offer a significant threat.

“You can check all the locks on the arena too,” I teased.

I opted to take the car so that I wasn’t flashing my skates all over town on my first day. Even with the slow speed limit and one wrong turn, we reached the squat gray building that held the rink in less than ten minutes.

The parking lot was empty. I guessed early afternoon in the middle of the week wasn’t a very happening time for rink rentals. Or maybe people just walked over.

In a quiet town like this, I’d probably have the whole arena to myself most of the time.

A giddy shiver passed through me. I walked up to the front doors and tugged on the handle.

The door jarred against its partner—locked. I knit my brow, peering through the smudged windows, but I couldn’t see any sign stating the opening hours.

Rafael peered over my shoulder. “We could always come back tomorrow morning.”

“Who knows if they’ll be open then either?”

Impatience was prickling through my limbs. I’d come all the way over here—I’d come almost two thousand miles to make Hobb Creek my home. I was going to see the goddamn rink.

It shouldn’t be that hard. What I’d said to Rafael about small-town security was generally true, wasn’t it? The lock on the door looked awfully simple.

I glanced around and confirmed there was no one within sight. Thankfully the arena was set at the back of its parking lot on the outskirts of town, so there wasn’t a whole lot of traffic.

Bending down, I reached into my sock and fished out the set of bobby pins I always kept there, just in case.

“Is this really how you want to spend your first day?” Rafael asked. “Breaking and entering?”

“Oh, stop. This place doesn’t have cameras, and there are no cars in the parking lot. No one will ever know. If anyonedoescatch me inside, I can just claim I found it unlocked.”

He sighed but didn’t argue further.

I had the door open within the next three breaths. Tucking the bobby pins back into my sock, I smiled triumphantly.

We stepped into a dim entrance way with a front office that showed no signs of life. A hallway branched off to the side where presumably the changerooms lay, but my attention zoomed in on the swinging doors straight ahead that would give admission to the rink itself.

I pushed past them and stopped at the top of the steps to flick a light switch. A thrill tingled through me.

The stands were empty. The rink shone glossy under the overhead lights that’d just flooded it.

The ice was calling to me.

Rafael drifted to the side, melding into the shadows along the top of the stands as he preferred to. I hurried down the aisle to the benches that ringed the rink.

Perched on one, I tore off my sneakers and slid my feet into the familiar encasing of my skates. My fingers moved to lace them automatically.

I pulled my phone out of my purse along with my Bluetooth speaker and found my playlist that included my warm-up music and the songs for a few of my favorite routines. With it playing, I set the phone and speaker on the top of the boards around the ice and then pushed off.

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