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The day of our Regionals competition was a crisp fall day in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Patrick, Kappy, and I walked across the large parking lot and were greeted by a huge crowd of kids holding signs, sports memorabilia, and pens.

I’d signed autographs for plenty of girls before, but this time, there were shockingly tons of boys in the crowd, holding up hockey jerseys and sticks.

“I think you guys are the favorite today,” Patrick mused with a genuine smile. “I’ll meet you inside for warm-ups.”

Kappy immediately jogged over to the kids and started joking with them and posing for pictures and signing autographs. A minute later, he was gesturing for me to join with a proud grin on his face.

I’d never signed a hockey jersey before that day, but that’s what the kids wanted.

“This is amazing,” a young mom gushed. “We’ve never been able to afford to go to one of your competitions before. She’s starting figure skating because of you.” She patted her tiny daughter’s head. “She can’t stop watching your videos.”

My heart warmed. Maybe being sent back to Regionals wasn’t such a bad thing. “Enjoy the competition,” I told them. “And good luck to you.” I smiled at the little girl.

After navigating through check-in and setting our stuff in a locker room, Kappy and I got to work stretching out in the rink hallway.

“I played so many games here growing up,” Kappy said with a chuckle while holding the cinderblock wall and stretching his long legs. “It’s funny to be back in a local rink after playing in so many stadiums.” He licked his lips and dropped his head. “If only my younger self could see me now.”

I smirked. “He’d be proud.”

He pinched his black shirt. “He’d roast my ass for wearing rhinestones and tucking my shirt in.”

I laughed. “Well, yeah, maybe, but you wear it really well,” I said with a grin, and I really appreciated him wearing it. “Thank you.”

His eyes softened. “Piper, you—”

“All right.” Patrick interrupted us, and I wanted to stomp my foot in frustration. “This is just Regionals. It’s low stakes. I’ve scoped out the other teams, and you’ll blow them away. Think of this as just a first run to get all the mistakes out, yeah?”

We both nodded.

“How about you two go over some lifts, and then I’ll—”

“Patrick Greene, is that you?” someone called out.

Patrick whipped around to see a group of millennial coaches. “Hey!”

“C’mere, man!” a guy called out.

He turned to us with a questioning look.

“Go,” I said, shooing him away with my hands. “You’ve prepared us within an inch of our lives, we’ve got this.”

Kappy reached out to do a bro handshake. “Yeah, we’re good, man,” he said, slapping Patrick on the back.

With Patrick walking away, Kappy and I silently marked our program in our tennis shoes.

After our first lift, he set me back on the ground and a familiar shock of pain shot up my leg, making my knee slightly buckle.

“Water break,” I murmured, trying to hide the pain as I reached for my water bottle.

A second later, Kappy grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. He waited for a gaggle of teen girls to pass before he whispered, “What was that?”

“Huh?” I kept my eyes away from him.

His rough fingers went to my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Are you okay?” His brown eyes seared into me, searching for the truth .

“Yeah, why?” I swallowed hard.

“Piper.” He said my name like a warning.

“I’m okay, I swear. It was just a tweak.” I tried to walk past him, but his large hand clamped my waist and gently pushed me to the wall.

His whole face was tense, but his large hand gently traced my hair line, making me shiver. He looked around once more to make sure no one was listening. “Piper, I’m not skating if it’s hurting you.”

“I’m okay, I promise.” My hand went to his chest, and I could feel his rapid heartbeats. “I just tweaked it. I’ll tell you if it gets worse.”

He held my gaze. “You promise?”

“Yes, I promise. We’ve got this. I can feel it.”

________

I could tell he was nervous during our five-minute warm-up. His muscles were tight and his movements were jumpy.

When the announcer boomed, “Skaters, you have one minute remaining in your warm-up,” he swore under his breath.

“Five minutes is kinda cruel, eh?” he asked in a shaky voice. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm down.

“It’s okay,” I said as soothingly as I could. “We don’t even need these five minutes. We’re prepared.”

He nodded, but I’m not sure if he was even paying attention to my words.

After leaving the ice, he paced back and forth through the rink hallway while the other teams took the ice.

He stopped suddenly and looked down at the stretchy pants I designed for him. “Ya know, I always peed a little in my cup before faceoffs.”

I pulled a grossed-out face. “Do not pee in those. I am not remaking them,” I warned.

He let out a dry laugh. “These nerves are on a totally different level. Now I know why Al Pal barfed that one time.”

“Oh my God.” I snorted a laugh. “I forgot about that.” She barfed right on the ice before being announced at Regionals one year. “Didn’t JP—”

“Punch me in the face for laughing? Yeah. But now I understand.” He swallowed hard. “With hockey, you get the nerves out on the first shift, then you have more chances. With this, there’s only one shot.”

“We only need one,” I said confidently.

His eyes darted around nervously. “I don’t wanna mess this up for you. I feel like I’m shaking.”

“Hey.” I walked into him and grabbed his hands. “It’s for us, not just me. And I’m just happy I get to dance with you.”

He flexed his jaw. Then he squeezed my hand three times, shocking me with a sense of deja vu. I stared down at our hands. He hadn’t done that in years. I almost forgot he ever did that.

“Ready?” Patrick asked, startling me.

I gave Patrick a nod before looking up at Kappy. “Just focus on the song, play your part, okay?”

He smirked as he shook out each leg. “Been playing this part for years.”

I did a double take at that statement, but I had to box up my questions for later. We had a job to do.

It was our turn to take the ice.

“Just like we practiced,” I whispered to him while we stepped onto the ice.

“Please give a warm welcome to Piper Wyndell-Hamilton and Richard Kappers of the Coliseum Ice Club,” the announcer’s voice blared through the speakers while we presented ourselves.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, looking panic-stricken.

“Hey, you’re okay,” I said as steadily as I could.

Silence descended on us while we waited for our music. Now I wished we had a starting position where we were touching so I could comfort him. Standing ten feet away while his body was slightly trembling felt cruel.

“Hey,” I whispered, making his eyes dart to mine. “The rest of the world? It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t even exist. It’s just us,” I said, echoing his much-needed words to me from a couple months ago.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

The first few beats of Iris played, and we smoothed toward each other. His eyes stayed glued to mine, and the nerves seemed to fall away.

_______ _

After our skate, I waited with bated breath for the results. Kappy and Patrick were chatting in the locker room, but I couldn’t leave the hallway where runners were taping up the results.

When a teenage girl wearing a home rink vest and holding a clipboard came into sight, my body went tight with nerves.

As soon as she taped up the sheet of paper on the results wall, people swarmed her.

I slowly walked over to the cinderblock wall, my legs slightly trembling, knowing that if we didn’t place, our journey would be over.

And this journey somehow became bigger than just skating.

Somewhere along the way, I liked being forced to live with Kappy, and I really didn’t want the excuse to be near him, to hold his hand, to skate with him, to suddenly disappear.

I started at the bottom of the results, going over each name.

We didn’t get last.

My heart pounded.

Not sixth either.

My lungs practically froze.

Not third.

“Oh my God.” My hands went to my head. “Oh my God!”

Turning on my skate guard, I bolted down the hallway to our locker room and threw the door open. “We did it! We got second!” I blurted out, not even caring who else was in the room.

Kappy’s mouth gaped open.

Patrick’s face lit up as he threw his hands in the air. “Yes!” He practically hauled Kappy to his feet and pulled both of us into a group hug. “I knew you two crazy kids could pull it off!”

I jumped up and down in our little group hug, feeling giddy like a little kid going to Disney World.

Kappy stared at me with a funny look on his face that I couldn’t quite decipher.

“I’ll see you guys at the podium!” Patrick said, grasping both of our shoulders before bolting for the door. “I need to go brag!”

“I can’t believe this! This is amazing! We did it!” A bubble of happiness was erupting inside of me, making Kappy blur slightly in front of me. But he didn’t look excited, he looked more… amused. “Why aren’t you ecstatic?”

His hands went to his hips. “Is this my Piper?” He arched an eyebrow. “Piper the Viper? Happy for second place?”

“Yes, you idiot.” I swatted his chest. “I’m…I’m really proud of us.” My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. I needed to buy a results sheet. I needed to frame it.

His head dipped to get a clear view of my eyes. His eyebrows tugged together. “Are you crying?”

“No,” I quickly denied.

“I think you are,” he whispered, staring at me intently.

“I’m not,” I choked out.

“Okay, you’re not.” He grinned and gently smoothed his thumbs under my eyes before pulling me in for a hug. “First one down, three more to go.” He took my hand in his and squeezed it three times while guiding us out to the podium for our medals and picture.