Walk on Water

by Laura Peyton Roberts

  She nearly lost the triple loop, but saved herself with a hand to the ice and nailed the rest of her jumps. Without the music to force her along she eased off in the spirals and footwork, catching her breath there. She made sure her sit spin was extra low and finished off with a blur of a scratch spin. Considering that she’d done all that in traffic without falling or injuring anyone, Lexa was satisfied with her performance as she skated back to her new coach.

  “You skate with a lot of speed,” Candace said. “Your jumps could be higher, but they look pretty solid. That’s a relief because, quite frankly, we’re going to have to work on everything else.”

  Lexa’s heart sank. Everything else?

  “I know I had a few sloppy elements, but that long has eight triples and I landed them all. And in not exactly the best conditions,” she added, gesturing to the other skaters.

  Candace laughed. “I do have other students. Blake has spoiled you with private ice if you think these are bad conditions. And as far as sloppy goes, sloppy’s not what I’m worried about. What’s missing out there is soul. I don’t see who you are when you skate.”

  “Soul?” Lexa repeated, stunned.

  “Technical difficulty is only half the mark. We need to see some passion out of you. Some sense of purpose. Tell me the truth: Is skating pairs really your dream? Or are you doing this to spite your father?”

  “No, it is my dream!” Lexa said, feeling panic rise. Was Candace saying she wasn’t good enough? “I have plenty of soul,” she added, wincing at how pathetic that sounded.

  “Of course. I didn’t mean . . . I just say what I see.”

  Lexa nodded, tightening her jaw to keep her chin from wobbling. She’s only being honest, she told herself. She’s trying to make you better.

  Candace’s observations hurt, though, and her bluntness in the first thirty minutes wasn’t making for the happiest possible introduction.

  “Oh, here’s Boyd!” Candace exclaimed.

  The boy skating toward them was tall and wiry, but the smoothness of his cheeks made him look fourteen. His boots were broken in, but flashy new six-hundred-dollar-blades glinted beneath them. Lexa could barely pull her eyes off that bling as he glided to a gentle T-stop.

  “There’s my star!” Candace said. “Boyd, meet Lexa. Lexa, Boyd Patrick.”

  “Nice to meet you,” they both mumbled.

  Lexa had never even heard of Boyd until the previous evening, when Beth had taken a call in the middle of dinner and triumphantly announced that she’d snagged him as Lexa’s new partner. “He doesn’t have any titles yet, but he did well enough in juniors that he’s decided to move up to seniors and commit to exclusively pairs. Candace says his technique is excellent—she’s expecting big things for him. This is so exciting!”

  Lexa had been excited too. “How old is he?”

  Beth’s expression had turned cagey. “I’m not exactly sure. Sixteen?”

  “Sixteen! We said someone older than I am!”

  “You’re going to skate with the boy, not marry him.” A shadow had crossed Beth’s face. “God forbid.”

  “I just thought . . . I mean, we discussed—”

  “Someone older would have been nice. I won’t deny that. But the only way to snag an experienced partner is if his former partner quits or gets knocked up or . . .” Beth shuddered off another bad memory. “On the bright side, you won’t have to worry about Boyd getting too old while you’re still at your peak. In fact, the way Candace tells it, you’ll have your work cut out just keeping up with him.”

  Looking at him now, Lexa felt pretty sure she’d be up to the challenge. Aside from his enviable blades, Boyd didn’t seem that remarkable: loose track pants, tight T-shirt, black wristbands, brown hair. Her own training gave her reason to hope that his individual skills wouldn’t be any better than her own. He’d been skating pairs for four years, though, so he had the advantage there.

  “I’ve seen your parents’ tapes,” he said. “They were awesome.” A smile made all the difference to his face, lighting his brown eyes and framing straight white teeth. He still looked far too young, but Lexa was starting to see his appeal.

  “Thanks.”

  “All right,” Candace said. “We have a lot of floor work ahead before we try any moves that leave the ice. I wanted to see Lexa skate, though, so since we’re here, let’s do some side-by-side stroking. It’ll give you two a chance to get to know each other.”

  Lexa pushed off, then hesitated nervously. Was she supposed to go to Boyd? Did he come to her? She didn’t want to admit that she’d never even stroked with a partner, but before she was forced into that revelation, Boyd swooped up beside her. His left hand reached across his body to take hers; his right curved around her back, cradling her waist.

  “I don’t bite,” he said, shaking the stiffness out of her arm. “Put your right hand on top of mine.”

  She did, feeling awkward and self-conscious as they skated forward together. Everywhere she wanted to put a foot, Boyd’s boot was already there. Their bodies bumped where they shouldn’t. She could feel his breath on her neck. Personal space had become an illusion.

  “Relax!” he urged as he pressed her ahead of him to set up slow crossovers around the curve. “You’re going to trip us both.”

  Gradually, she found her rhythm. She and Boyd picked up speed until they were racing around the ice, not gracefully but fast enough that Lexa felt the first thrill of shared effort, of skating as a team. By the time Candace called them back, Lexa’s chest was heaving and her cheeks were pink with excitement.

  “Okay,” Candace said. “That was . . . rough. It’s good that you’re not afraid to fall, though, Lexa.”

  “We didn’t fall,” she said, confused.

  “And that’s a miracle, because your feet were everywhere. But again, I like your speed. I’d rather work with fast and reckless than slow and controlled. There’s no cure for slow.”

  Lexa nodded uneasily. Fast was something she took for granted and reckless wasn’t a compliment. She was going to have to work every second to improve as rapidly as she could.

  “Okay, we’ve got lots of floor work ahead. In fact, let’s move to the studio now. We’re done on the ice for today.”

  “Already?” Lexa said. “Can’t we try a little footwork, or maybe some side-by-side—”

  Candace held up a kid-gloved finger. “I love that you’re excited, but we need to work through everything on the floor before we bring it to the ice. Boyd, show Lexa the locker rooms, and I’ll meet you two in the studio.”

  Lexa glanced at the risers. Beth waved from the top row. “Should my grandmom come? She was expecting to watch all day.”

  “I’ll let Beth know what’s up. Grab your things and go with Boyd.”

  Lexa followed her new partner through the back side of the risers and a door labeled MEMBERS ONLY. The long rubber-floored hallway beyond had doorways on both sides and a continuous single line of fluorescent bulbs overhead.

  “Locker rooms,” Boyd said, jerking thumbs toward swinging doors on either side of the hall. “Be glad you’re a girl, because mine’s always full of NHL wannabes. Those asshats live to harass guys in figure skates. Anyone who still has his front teeth must be a homo.”

  Lexa had heard the same thing from Bry, who made avoiding hockey players a top priority. “They pay the bills.”

  “Not my bills. Anyway, here.” Fishing a key from his pocket, Boyd handed it to her. “They gave you 83. You’ll have to find it yourself.” He pointed down the hallway. “Studio’s at the end. I’ll meet you there after you ditch your skates.”

  He disappeared into the men’s locker room, leaving Lexa alone for the first time that morning. She took the opportunity to breathe, trying to settle her nerves. She had only been in Cleveland an hour and she was already worried that she hadn’t impressed Candace enough. She considered texting Bry, decided she’d better wait, and walked through the women’s swinging door.

  The locker room wa
s large and bright, fancier than any she’d ever been in. The lockers had polished wood doors, giving them the look of expensive cabinetry, and the rubber flooring was flecked to resemble terrazzo. Lexa took a quick peek at the individual shower stalls and the toilets in tiny rooms with real doors before hunting down her new locker and sitting to unlace her skates. Jenni would be in heaven, she thought. She’d probably make the drive just for those stall doors!

  No longer able to resist, Lexa took out her phone. Her friends had beat her to the text.

  is he cute? read Jenni’s.

  Lexa smiled. Typical.

  we miss u! Bry had written. show cleveland how it’s done!

  Also typical, although that one was hard to read through the water it brought to her eyes. She was about to text back when a girl walked up and stood in front of her.

  “You’re Lexa Walker.”

  She looked up from her phone. “Yeah. Hi.”

  “I’m Ashley Mitchell,” the girl said, as if that ought to mean something. She was thirteen or fourteen, extremely thin, with a widow’s peak in her long brown hair that made her face look heart-shaped. She had the lines of a skater beneath her snug jeans, but Lexa still felt certain she had never seen her before.

  “Um, hi,” she repeated.

  Ashley snorted with disbelief. “Like you don’t know who I am!”

  Lexa shook her head, at a loss.

  “Oh my God! You don’t!”

  “Sorry. Should I?”

  “Unbelievable!” Ashley spun on the heel of one Ugg boot, her long hair flying out behind her. “Pathetic!” she added as she gave the locker room door a vicious shove and left it swinging in her wake.

  “Wow,” Lexa said to the flapping door. “Nice to meet you too.”

  —20—

  “I’m so thrilled!” Beth said on the long drive back to Ashtabula. “That facility is gorgeous. Boyd seems like a nice boy, and Candace is exactly what you need.”

  Lexa nodded from the passenger seat, using the excuse of exhaustion to avoid replying out loud. Her first day as a pairs skater hadn’t been bad. It just hadn’t been very good.

  Ashley Mitchell! she thought, feeling a headache coming on. She had obviously known that Boyd had skated with other people. What she hadn’t seen coming was that he had just dumped his previous partner in order to skate with her.

  “Don’t worry about Ashley,” he’d told her when she related their bizarre locker room encounter. “She’s upset right now, but she’ll get over it. Besides, she weighs eighty pounds soaking wet. You could totally take her.”

  “Boyd! I’m not going to fight her!”

  “I’m kidding. This type of thing happens all the time. People outgrow each other and move on. It’s skating, not matrimony. Ashley acts like she’s my girlfriend, but she’s not even my first partner.”

  “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  He’d smiled wolfishly. “For now.”

  Lexa still wasn’t sure if that had been a come-on.

  “The restaurant is wonderful too,” Beth went on. “I’m going to drive down with you once a week and we’ll have lunch together.”

  “That’ll be great,” Lexa said, noting that her grandmother had already changed her original plan of coming to watch every day. “There probably won’t be much to see for a while anyway.”

  “You’ll be okay driving without me, right? I just don’t want to be a distraction. Candace said that I need to let you concentrate and she’ll have you coming along in no time.”

  She didn’t say that to me, Lexa thought. Blake wasn’t lavish with compliments either, though, and she was starting to appreciate just how far he’d brought her. After a couple of hours of walking through basic pairs moves in the studio, lunch, a ballet class, and the weight room, Candace had relented and let them back on the ice. They’d worked mostly on stroking, but toward the end they’d tried a few easy side-by-side jumps. Lexa had been hopeless at syncing her movements with Boyd’s, but her jumps were cleaner and tighter. Higher, too, she noted, wondering why everyone kept harping on that.

  It seemed like only a second later that Beth nudged her awake at the top of Maplehurst’s long drive. “Hey, sleepyhead. We’re home!”

  “What?” she asked groggily. “Oh. Sorry, G-mom. I didn’t mean to be such lousy company.”

  “Don’t be sorry, kitten. You’ll be better off for that nap tonight when you’re studying with Clara.”

  “Right,” Lexa said, fighting back a groan. She had totally forgotten about her tutor.

  Beth checked her gold watch. “Go and shower now while I rustle up some dinner. She’ll be here in an hour.”

  —21—

  “I hope we run into Everly,” Jenni said.

  Lexa made a face. “I hope we don’t.” After a week of the longest days she’d ever trained, she had miraculously managed to sneak off to the mall to meet Jenni. She had expected her best friend to want to know all about Candace and Boyd and skating pairs in Cleveland, but so far she’d used every minute of their limited time together to talk about Erie Shores’s cheerleaders.

  “Everly’s not so bad when you get to know her,” Jenni said, ignoring the hint. “I mean, obviously she didn’t see how loveable I am right away. But she’s with Brad Sanderson now, so she cares less about Jacob. And when I break up with him, the circle will be complete.”

  “Wait. You’re breaking up with Jacob?” Lexa asked, drawn in despite herself.

  “Of course. Eventually. Did you think I’d marry the guy?”

  “I don’t know. Do you have to marry someone to stay together?”

  “I’m far too young and hot to be thinking of forever. Oops! Hang on.” Whipping her cell out of her bag, Jenni giggled as she read a text, then put the phone away without explaining what was funny. “So what movie do you want to see?”

  “Did we decide to see a movie? I thought we said maybe.”

  Jenni had already started walking toward the mall cineplex. “What else are we going to do?”

  Lexa had hoped they might grab sundaes or something equally forbidden on Candace’s new pairs-skating weight-loss plan and just hang out catching up. But so far she’d heard more than she wanted to know about Jenni’s new clique at school and Jenni still hadn’t asked one question about Lexa’s new life.

  “My skating partner, Boyd, thinks he’s Don Juan two point oh,” she offered, trailing Jenni to the theater. “His old partner and his girlfriend hang around like groupies and he just soaks it up.”

  “I know. You already told me that on the phone.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Yes, and I told you to dump him and come back to Ashtabula Ice.”

  Lexa remembered that part. “How could I have forgotten such helpful advice?”

  “You’re the one who left. Why should I shower you with sympathy for taking off and doing exactly what you want?”

  “You think I want sympathy?”

  “Don’t you?”

  They chose a romantic comedy and sat through two cheesy hours with barely a snicker or sarcastic comment. She and Jenni obviously didn’t have as much to talk about as Lexa had believed.

  —22—

  “Check it, Lexa!” Candace shouted. “Not—no, stop. Wait right there.”

  Lexa’s coach skated over to join her and Boyd at center ice. “You were spinning almost twice as fast as Boyd. You have to check your rotation.”

  “Or he could spin faster,” Lexa said. “Maybe we could—”

  “Pairs is about unison. You’re part of a team now.”

  “No, I totally get that. It’s just . . . can’t we spin in unison faster? Wouldn’t that be more exciting?”

  “For who?” asked her coach. “I’ll be plenty excited if you will please just watch Boyd and match his rotation. Do you think you can do that? Do we need to step through this entry on the floor again?”

  “No, I can do it.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  Lexa and Boyd joined hand
s and stroked to gain momentum before splitting up and swooping into side-by-side camel spins. Bent forward at their waists with their free legs extended behind them, they looked like the two different hands of a fast-moving clock. And I’m definitely the minute hand, she thought, opening her body in an attempt to slow down. She wanted to tell Boyd to pull in and speed up, but she bit back that impulse, continuing to check her momentum until she mirrored his rotation.

  “All right. Better, Lexa,” Candace said. “Your centering is good, at least. But you need to stop coming in so hot—nailing that entry is half the battle. Let’s try the pairs camel now. Are you up for that, Boyd?”

  “Just watch your free leg,” he told Lexa, gesturing to his face. “I don’t want a stray blade messing up all this hotness.” He grinned and Lexa laughed. He still wasn’t the partner she would have chosen, but his sense of humor was growing on her.

  Boyd stroked off, setting up the entrance to the pairs camel. Lexa approached from the opposite direction, and as their paths converged, he pulled her in against him, sheltering her inside his spin. For five exhilarating rotations they spun as a single unit. Lexa stretched her torso to match his line and raised her head to look forward beneath his chin. Boyd’s free hand cradled her waist while she extended one arm behind them, embellishing their pose. Then her boot bumped his, she caught an edge, and they both went crashing down.

  “Ow,” Boyd complained, getting to his feet. Reaching down, he yanked her up too. “That was all you, Grace.”

  “Sorry. But it was good for a minute, wasn’t it?”

  He gave her a skeptical look. “Define good.”

  “It felt good,” she insisted. “It felt . . . right.”

  “It was a decent first try,” Candace said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  They worked the same spin for the next twenty minutes, Lexa’s excitement increasing as their entrances became smoother, leading to more rotations with less traveling. Then fatigue set in and they started getting worse instead of better.