#iceskating

And—devastatingly for her pride—she was right.

Ellie was atrocious. Something not even a four-year-old could achieve.

Your arm, her personal crutch, was aching. Ellie had fallen on her ass about four times before finally being able to move on her own accord on the ice.

People whizzed by you, effortless and graceful, and Ellie watched them with open betrayal.

“See?” she huffed, pointing weakly at a little kid who glided past with a lazy spin. “That kid’s been alive for, like, twelve minutes and he’s already better than me. This is humbling.”

“You’re doing great,” you lied gently, tightening your grip when her knees wobbled again. 

“Pretty sure I haven’t left your side once.” 

“That’s not a bad thing.” You chuckled. 

Ellie narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously. “What's that tone? I don't like that tone. You sound like you have an idea.”

“I just think you’re ready to try on your own.”

Her expression immediately twisted into pure horror. “Whoa, whoa—ready? Let’s not say crazy things we can’t take back.”

Before she could protest further, you gently loosened your hold and skated ahead just a foot, watching as you glided backwards.

Instant chaos.

Her arms shot out, flailing wildly as she windmilled like a startled baby deer on black ice. Her knees locked, then unlocked, then locked again, and her skates scribbled frantic little lines across the rink.

“I TAKE IT BACK,” she yelped. “I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I’VE EVER SAID, COME BACK—”

“You’re fine!” you laughed, hands hovering inches away, ready to catch her. “You’re literally doing it.”

She wobbled, teetered, and pointed an accusing finger at you mid-flail. “You can’t just abandon me in the wild like this. I trusted you.”

You skated closer, still not touching her. “Look at you though. The picture of balance. Olympic material.”

“Babe I’m so serious if I fall one more time I’m actually never doing this again—“

“Okay, okay.” You giggled, swerving back to her side. She latched back onto you like velcro, huffing a small “thank you.” as you returned to a soft glide through the rink.

“You’re silly.”

“Shut up. You’re lucky I love you.”

The words slipped out so naturally she didn’t even seem to notice—just kept skating beside you, pushing with a little more confidence. Still shaky, but she was still trying her best.

Her skate caught a tiny ridge in the ice, and her confidence evaporated mid-step. She slipped, arms flying out in a blink as she crashed down onto the ice with a dramatic thump.

There was a split second of silence.

Then you laughed. Helplessly.

Ellie blinked up at the sky, breath puffing out in a defeated cloud. “Wow,” she deadpanned. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

“You just looked so—graceful,” you grinned, skating over, crouching down, and holding a hand out to her. “C’mon, disaster. Up you go.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but took your hand anyway. “If you drop me, I’m breaking up with you on the spot.”

“I would never—”

She yanked.

Hard.

You let out a very undignified yelp as she used your momentum against you, pulling you straight down with her until you landed in a tangled heap on the ice. Cold seeped instantly into your jeans as your back hit her chest and Ellie burst into laughter—unrestrained, victorious laughter.

“Oh my god,” she wheezed. “Worth it.”

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