by Kitty Parker
"… try, try again!"
I threw a pillow at him.
He caught it easily before it could hit his face. "Evie, skating is amazing. It's… it's like flying."
"Need I remind you that I can't fly either? Or do I have to jump off the roof to prove it?"
Tully's green eyes twinkled. "Maybe I can help you fly."
I gazed at him warily. "If you're thinking about throwing me or something…"
He gave me a look. "I was being metaphorical."
"Aw, please don't go all 'Let Me Be Your Wings' on me, Tul," I whined.
"But you like Thumbelina," he pointed out. He would know. I'd made him watch it with me enough times when we were younger.
"Yeah, but you can't sing," I reminded him.
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"That sounds like a challenge."
"Oh no, Tully," I pleaded. "I really don't want my windows to shatter."
He chuckled. "Tell you what then: If you go skating with me, I won't sing."
I weighed my options: Possibility of bodily harm or absolutely positive money owed to the campus life office for replacing a broken window?
I sighed. "I'll get my coat."
"And she caves!" Tully crowed.
I rolled my eyes, hopping off my bed. "Yeah, yeah."
"I'm proud of myself," he continued. "It takes a lot to out-stubborn you."
"So what do you want, a medal or something?" I shoved my keys into my purse.
"Nope," he replied. "Just for you to bow down to my amazing persuasive powers."
I smirked. "Not gonna happen, pal. Come on, let's get this over with."
"You make it sound like skating with me is a chore."
"The 'skating' part," I clarified. "Not the 'with you' part."
He flung an arm around my shoulders as we left the room. "Good. I almost felt unloved for a second there."
I shrugged him off. "You smell." He didn't, but whatever.
"I smell good," he amended.
I scoffed. "You keep telling yourself that."
Since the stupid TCAT busses refused to run at normal time intervals on Sundays, Tully and I were compelled to walk all the way to Lynah. This was made worse by the fact that my companion, by some stroke of genius, decided to take the shortcut over the Triphammer Footbridge, which led to what I liked to call the "Hum-Ecie Hill of Death," due to the fact that it was absurdly steep (though not as bad as Libe Slope) and was right next to the College of Human Ecology.*
"Tully, will you please slow down?" I panted, struggling up the hill behind my more athletic friend.
He turned around. "Aw, it's not that bad, Evie."
I just glared at him.
"Come on," he urged. "We're almost at the top!"
"Eat shit and die," I growled.
"Ouch," he replied, obviously not taking me seriously.
"I'm not going to have any energy left to skate," I whined as the hill finally tapered off.
Tully waved off my concerns with his hand. "Pft. You'll be fine."
I frowned. "You're paying the hospital bill."
"There won't be one," he insisted. "You're with me, remember?"
"Oh goody." My voice was positively dripping with sarcasm. "If you wanted to go skating so badly, why didn't you just take Amory?"
Tully shrugged. "He was busy. Problem set or something."
"That blows."
"Yup."
We walked in silence for a while. It was the sort that wasn't outright awkward or tense, but still wasn't completely comfortable, like we knew something was missing but whatever it was wasn't particularly vital. Needless to say, I was relieved when we reached Lynah.
"So where exactly do we go?" I asked.
"There's a skate rental booth off to the side near the Zamboni entrance," Tully explained.
I raised an eyebrow. "Rental? You never said anything about money. I didn't bring any with me."
"Oh well. My treat, then." He fished some money out of his pocket.
"I can pay you back, you know," I protested.
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."
I gazed at him suspiciously, but decided to let him have his way. He had forced me to come, after all.
"Here." He handed me five dollars as we entered the rink and pointed down in the direction of the rental booth. "The guy down there'll help you. I'm just gonna go get my skates from the locker room."
I made my way down through section A to the level of the ice. There were a few people standing in a line leading up to a window in the wall that opened into some kind of storage room. Looking closer, I saw that it was full of skates and was manned by two guys, one older and one younger.
"Hey there," the elder of the two greeted me when I reached the window. "Can I help you?"
"Um," I began unsurely. "Can I rent some skates?"
He smiled widely, looking very much like he could tell that I was totally inexperienced. "Sure thing. Figure skates or hockey skates?"
"Er… hockey?"
"What size?"
"I have no idea," I admitted.
"That's alright," he assured me. "What size shoe do you wear?"
"Five and a half. Really small."
He nodded. "You'd probably want twos, then. John, can you get me a pair of hockey twos, please?" he shouted to the younger man before turning back to me. "That'll be five dollars, please. And can I see your Cornell ID?"
I showed it to him and handed him the money Tully had given me.
He gave me a pair of skates in return. "Come back and see me if they don't fit, okay?"
Thanking him, I headed over to a nearby bench and sat down, slipping off my shoes. As I started to pull on my left skate, Tully plopped down next to me, skates in hand.
"How are they?" he inquired.
I pulled on the right one. "Kind of tight."
"They're supposed to be," he explained, starting to put on his own.
I grunted in reply as I attempted to tie up my absurdly complicated laces. I was still trying to tighten them by the time Tully was ready.
He sighed. "Here, let me do that."
I blushed at my own incompetence as he knelt in front of me and swiftly finished the job.
He stood up when he was done. "Alright. Ready?"
"No," I answered flatly.
"Too bad." Grinning, he took hold of my arm and dragged me over to the rink entrance, stepping onto the ice with a natural grace that I envied. Cursing myself for giving in to Tully, I followed him.
I had only taken two steps before…
"Yaaaaah!" Plop.
… I slipped and landed flat on my ass.
Tully didn't even bother trying to mask his laughter, holding the wall for support as he doubled over.
I scowled up at him. "You suck."
Still chuckling, he held out a hand to help me up. "Okay, let's try this: I'll skate backwards and you use my arms for support, okay?"
"Fine," I reluctantly agreed, brushing some ice off of my jeans.
"Good." He stretched out his forearms to me. "Now grab on."
I did so, holding his arms just below the elbow.
"Okay," he began. "What you want to do is sort of push out with one of your skates. Sort of back and to the side. Then you glide on the other one."
"Like this?" I pushed with my right foot and, lo and behold, I actually moved forward.
Tully nodded. "Yeah, like that. Now try the other one."
I attempted to repeat the same action with my left foot, but with less success.
Tully steadied me as I stumbled. "Easy there, Eves. Here, try that one again, but push more out."
Concentrating, I pushed with my left foot again, making sure to push out rather than too far back. This time, I moved a bit.
"Great job!" Tully encouraged me. "Now try doing those two together; first the right, then the left."
Still fairly unsure of myself, I followed his instructions. To my great surprise, it was working. I was
actually skating! Well, sort of. I still had just about zero balance.
Tully seemed happy at my progress, though. "Awesome! You're doing it, Evie! See, what did I tell you?"
"I still feel like I'm about to fall over," I maintained.
"Try bending your knees more," he suggested.
I apparently bent them a little too much, since the next thing I knew, I was falling forward.
"Oomph," I grunted as I crashed into Tully, my face pressing into his chest. I could feel it vibrate beneath me as he chuckled, wrapping his arms around me to keep me stable.
"Maybe a little less bend. Try again?" he asked, helping me straighten up.
After a few more attempts, I could finally do it, albeit very shakily.
"You're doing great, Evie," Tully assured me. "You're definitely getting the hang of it. Keep going, and I'm going to move back a bit."
So saying, he backed up until we were only holding hands. I wobbled a bit as the support was retracted.
"I'm gonna fall!"
"No you're not," Tully insisted. "I'm here. I won't let you fall. And even if you, I'll be here to catch you."
"Promise?" I asked apprehensively. I really didn't want to eat ice.
He smiled down at me. "Promise."
He kept his promise, too. He kept it many, many times. I just wasn't a graceful person.
After an hour, we'd finally gotten to the point where we could skate alongside one another (slowly) with him only holding one of my hands, but I needed a break. Skating was a tiring activity.
"My legs hurt," I announced. "I'm going to go sit over there." I gestured to the team's bench.
"Sure thing." Tully skated over to the side with me, making sure I didn't take a spill on the way. "You just rest up and I'll skate around for a bit."
"Sounds like a plan," I agreed, plopping down on the wooden bench.
Grinning, Tully took off, whizzing around the rink and weaving in and out of people like a red blur. He was in his element, doing what he loved. I watched as he turned around and skated backwards just as smoothly.
"Hey Evie, watch this!" he shouted before going into some kind of cool-looking turning maneuver that I would never in my life be able to do.
I rolled my eyes. Show off.
Chapter Ten: For the Love of Corn Nuggets
"So where are you guys going again?"
Elizabeth stuffed some clothes into a duffel bag. "Harvard."
I sat on her bed, leaning against her giant pink pillow. "Where are you staying?"
"In Harvard bandies' rooms," she explained, not sounding too enthusiastic about this prospect.
"When are you coming back?" I asked.
"Right after the game on Saturday. I'll be here for your birthday." She flashed me a grin.
I smiled back. "Cool."
"So why aren't you going home for fall break? I mean, we don't have class again until Wednesday."
I shrugged. "Too far. I'm not up for a six and a half hour bus ride just to hang around Gloucester for a few days. Besides, everyone's going to be here: Amory, Tully, and Elena are all staying, and you're coming back after the Harvard game."
"I love how your definition of 'everyone' is exactly four people," she chuckled.
I grinned. "Makes you feel special, doesn't it?"
"Yup," she replied as she packed her marching band shoes (Dinkles, she called them).
I looked around the room. "Is Dorianne staying?"
"The Wicked Witch of the West? Nah, she's already jetted off to Paris or wherever. I think she lives in Bordeaux. Maybe I'll get lucky and someone'll melt her while she's gone. Or drop a house on her."
I raised an eyebrow. "She left? But it's only Thursday; we still have classes tomorrow."
Elizabeth shrugged. "Apparently doesn't matter to her. All I know is that I don't have to deal with her for six days." She grinned widely at this.
"Amen to that."
The door opened a bit and Elena poked her head in. "Is this a private party, or can I join?"
"No, you can't," Elizabeth replied sarcastically. "This is a meeting of the National Society of People Who Don't Have British Accents. Sorry, pal."
Elena rolled her eyes and came in anyway. "Band trip?" she inquired, nodding at Elizabeth's duffel.
"Mhm," Elizabeth replied. "Heading out tomorrow morning. We have university excuses to get us out of classes."
"Lucky," I grumbled. "I have a quiz tomorrow that I really don't want to take."
She tucked some socks into her bag. "That sucks."
There was a knock on the door, even though it was already ajar. Tully leaned casually against it, his hair still wet from the shower he'd taken after hockey practice. "Hello, ladies," he greeted us, pretending to be suave. "May I come in?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "Nope."
"But he doesn't have a British accent," I pointed out.
"This is now the National Society for Non-Redheads," she clarified.
"Ah, gotcha."
Tully ran a hand through his hair as if he were contemplating what might be wrong with its color.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "That was sarcasm, dude."
Blushing slightly, he hastily tried to cover up the fact that he'd missed the joke. "Oh, I know. I was just doing…uh, non-verbal sarcasm."
All three of us shot him the same skeptical look.
He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you guys practice that look in the mirror together or something? Jeez."
Elena shook her head in amusement. "How did he get into an Ivy League school again?" she asked me.
I smirked. "Two words: hockey player."
"Hey!" Tully retorted, pouting. "I resent that! Just because I know how to shoot a puck doesn't mean I'm slow in the head!"
Elizabeth let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like "dumb jock."
Tully caught it and glared at us. "You guys suck."
"Your mom sucks," she replied.
The three of us tittered. Tully just glared.
"I might not have gone to a fancy-schmancy prep school like Evie did," he went on. "But I was in the top five percent of my class."
I shifted uncomfortably as Elizabeth pretended to be impressed, her voice heavily saturated with sarcasm. Tully bringing up our separation during high school was steering the conversation in a direction I really didn't want to head in. I decided to nip it in the bud.
"Ok, Tul, we get it. You're a brainiac and you're going to invent teletransportation or something someday. There's something much more important that we need to talk about right now."
Tully rolled his eyes. "Let me guess: Does it have something to do with the fact that Sunday happens to be October twelfth?"
"DING DING DING!" I shouted. "We have a winner! Give that man a prize!"
He perked up. "Is it edible?"
"If by 'edible' you mean the personal satisfaction of knowing that you can remember my birthday, then yes."
"How could we forget it?" Elizabeth asked. "You've been dropping not-so-subtle hints about it all week."
"I've a great idea on how to celebrate, too," Elena announced. "Funk and Disorderly is playing at The Nines. We should go."
"Sounds cool to me," I agreed.
"And you know who you should invite?" A mischievous grin spread across Elizabeth's face. "Mischa."
I glared at her, a brilliant blush blooming in my cheeks.
"The Russian from our bio class?" Tully inquired, frowning. "Why would you invite him?"
"Because she fancies him," Elena teased.
"Do not!" I immediately retorted.
"Do too!" Elizabeth insisted.
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"DO NOT!"
"DO TOO!"
"What are you guys, in fourth grade?" Tully interrupted, looking rather annoyed. "If you're going to keep doing that, I'm going to go do my Dutch homework." So saying, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.
"What's up with him?" asked Elizabeth, jerking her thu
mb in the direction of the door.
I shrugged. "I don't think he likes Mischa very much."
"That sucks," she replied.
"He'll just have to deal with it," Elena added. "Because you're definitely inviting him."
"Mhm," Elizabeth agreed. "And you're going to do it right now."
I watched, horrified, as my supposed friends took my cell phone, browsed through my contacts list, and dialed Mischa (who had given me his number in case I needed to call him about lab-related things). Elena then stuffed the ringing object into my palm.
Oh God, please don't pick up… I thought to myself.
"Ya slushu."
"Um… is this Mischa?"
"Oh, hello Evie. How are you?"
Fuck.
"I'm alright, thanks. How about you?"
"Not so bad," he replied. "Looking forward to break."
"You going back to Russia?" I asked.
"No, it is too far."
"I agree. I'm not going home either. It'll be fun here, though. Sunday's my birthday, and some friends and I are going out to The Nines." I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Since you're going to be around, do you want to come with us?"
The butterflies in my stomach flapped around wildly as I waited for his answer.
"Sure, that sounds like fun."
I felt a wave of relief wash over me. "Great. Meet us at the Straight at eight?"
"Alright."
"Cool, see you then!" I flipped my phone shut and gave a little whoop of triumph.
"He's coming?" Elizabeth inquired.
I nodded my head enthusiastically, causing both of my friends to break out into incredibly girlish sounds of delight. I joined in, but then suddenly stopped mid-squeal.
"Shit, what am I going to wear?"
* * *
"Keep your pants on, you dork, I'm coming!" I shouted in the vague direction of my door, hoping that whoever was hammering on it would cut it out. "I'm just putting my freaking shoes on. Chill out!"
Elena lay on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest and laughing at me. "Do you want me to get it?"
"Don't bother," I replied, finally getting my left shoe on. "I've got it."
I opened the door only to be bowled over by a very enthusiastic tackler - sort of like being jumped on by an overly excited St. Bernard, but with a lot less slobber involved. When my back hit the floor and I found Tully on top of me (big surprise there), I half expected him to lick my face.
