Page 35 of Elf-ish

We might be pretending we are boyfriend and girlfriend, but are we becoming friends? I didn’t know. I didn’t have many of those either.

I must scowl or give her a strange look because she quickly looks away from me and stands on her skates.

Eventually, I follow her lead but instantly teeter.

“Whoa,” Angelica says, holding out her hands like she’d catch me if I fall.

“I got it,” I snap, never wanting to look unsteady around her.

She clamps her lips tight and nods once before taking a step back. Then another and another, before spinning toward the icy pond.

Dammit. I’m frozen in place and not just from the cold. I’m afraid to move. Afraid I’ll tip over. Afraid I’ll look incompetent.

“You should waddle.”

I turn my head toward the smart mouth of a young boy.

I am not fucking waddling.

“Like this.” He spreads his arms, widens his legs, and softens his knees, then steps forward. “Waddle.”

Not happen— But the second I start to wobble, my arms stretch outward, and I bend my knees for stability. Then I waddle like a goddamn penguin before dipping my toe against the ice like I’m afraid to get in the water.

“You got this, Jude,” Angelica says as she whizzes past me, her smile wide, and beaming almost as bright as the sunlight overhead.

Why does she have to be a ray of sunshine and as pretty as one with that red hair? Her head is covered by her knit hat, a ball bouncing on the top, but the long length of her hair is braided and hangs over her scarf and shoulders. She giggles as my feet slip, and she travels against the flow of the skaters to double back to me.

“Here.” She holds out both her hands.

I’d like to refuse. I’d like to tell her I don’t need her. I’d also like to say I’ll sit this activity out, but she looks so happy standing on those shaky skates.

“I don’t want to hold you back.” She should go off, have her fun, and not wait on me.

“You won’t.” Her voice is strong.

Hesitantly, I hold out my hands, setting my glove-covered ones against her woolen mittens. Slowly, I feel Angelica pulling me forward, my body stretching.

“Move your feet, Jude,” she coaches, her voice calm, encouraging.

At first, my feet shuffle like I don’t have conscious willpower over them.

“Push off to the side a little bit. Like this.” While standing opposite me, Angelica motions with her foot how to work the blade at a slight angle instead of straight on.

I could snap again. I know how to do this. But I’m not certain how to fake ice skating. With Angelica holding onto me, I’m also not certain I want her to let go.

When she tucked her arm into mine earlier, the move had been a shock. She quickly explained away the touch because of the Marksmans, which strangely caused the pit of my stomach to drop. She hadn’t touched me voluntarily. Then again, why would she? Calling out my name meant she only had fantasies of me touching her. I don’t think Angelica would act on such fantasies. She doesn’t seem like a woman who would throw herself at a man. Why would she need to? She’s fucking funny and gorgeous and outgoing.

And she’s giving me a dazzling smile.

So dazzling, my feet shuffle and I tighten my grip, sensing impending failure.

Angelica strengthens her grasp in response.

“Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t let me drag you down.”

“You won’t,” she states again, confident that I wouldn’t pull her down. At least not during ice skating.

With strength in her small arms, she tugs me forward again, and I follow her lead, letting her take the reins and guide me. Her hips swish from side to side to keep her own balance steady as my wobbly legs gain confidence. Eventually, she loosens her grip, then removes her hands, holding them only inches above mine.