Page 79 of Thin Ice

They moved across the ice together, slow, Remy skating backward without looking, guiding Ethan through the first ten yards like he'd done this before — which he probably had on some rink in Hartford. The patience was practiced. Not the kind you perform because someone's watching. The kind that's been worn smooth from years of teaching someone smaller or younger or less sure how to do the thing you already know.

"Okay," Remy said. "Now push. Right foot. Gentle."

Ethan pushed. Glided. Didn't fall.

"There you go."

"I did one push."

"One push is skating. Do it again."

They made it halfway across the cove like that. Remy backward, Ethan forward, their hands between them. Ethan's ears were pink, and he was concentrating so hard his jaw was tight, and Remy was talking him through it in a low, steady voice that I recognized from the cox seat, except softer. No command in it. Just: I've got you. Keep going.

Alex cruised onto the ice wearing my aunt's scarf with a big smile on his face. He could skate. Of course he could. Clean edges, straight back, the mechanics of someone who'd been taught properly. But he wasn't skating properly. He was skating loose, arms open, catching himself late on turns, letting his form go sloppy in a way I'd never seen from him. He bumped into Remy and grabbed his shoulder, and Remy shoved him off without looking, and Alex laughed and kept going.

I stood at the edge of the cove for a second and watched all of them on the ice. The sounds carried — blades cutting, Noah yelling something about physics, Priya ignoring him, Ethan's laugh, Remy's voice low and fast underneath it. My lake. My people. Everyone of them had driven hours to be here.

Noah eventually gave up on skating and sat on a log near the bank. He'd found a stick and was drawing patterns in the snow and eating trail mix out of the bag.

"— and the problem with the second rebuttal is structural, not substantive," Priya was saying, skating slow circles in front of him. "Davis had the evidence. He didn't have the frame. You can't introduce empirical data without a normative anchor, or the judge has nowhere to put it."

"I agree."

"You said that last time and then you let him restructure the rebuttal around policy impact, which is exactly the wrong frame for—"

"I agree that I was wrong."

She stopped skating. Looked at him. "You're doing the thing where you agree with me to end the conversation."

"I'm doing the thing where I agree with you because you're right." He held out the trail mix. She took a handful without looking and resumed skating.

The rowing talk started when Ethan came off the ice and sat on the log next to Noah. Remy followed, standing behind Ethan with his hands in his pockets. Everyone gathered around the bag of snacks.

"So Tyler told me something."

I looked at him. "Tyler told you something. Not me."

"You're interim captain, Liam. Not the FBI. People are allowed to text me."

"Yeah, yeah. What'd he say?"

"He heard from Collins that Eldridge has been talking about restructuring the spring lineup. Moving away from the joint format. Running Kingswell boats only."

Alex was standing at the edge of the ice. He went still.

"That's a rumor," I said.

"It's Tyler. Everything's a rumor. But he said Collins seemed serious."

Ethan cut in. "I heard something similar, actually. Derek said he ran into Eldridge at the boathouse last week of the semester picking up gear, and Eldridge made some comment about 'getting back to fundamentals.'"

"Getting back to fundamentals means running his own boats," Remy said. Pulling an energy drink out of the snack bag. "It means he wants control back."

"Can he even do that?" Noah asked. "Just pull out of the joint program?"

"Hale and Eldridge shook hands on the joint program. There's no contract. Either one of them can walk away." Remy looked at me. "But Hale's not going to walk. He's got the better hand."

"How?"