Just Don't Fall (Sweater Weather, #1; Appies, #1)

by Emma St. Clair

When I look down at the ice, it reminds me of my figure skating days with a cloyingly sharp bittersweetness. Not that figure skating was my dream. It wasn’t. I wanted to play hockey like Brandon. My father, being the master puppeteer he is, refused to pay for me to play hockey. Even more, he wouldn’t sign any parental consent forms when I told him I’d just use my babysitting money to cover the cost. Brandon even offered to help chip in. My mom, bless her sweet soul, is always on Team Dad and wouldn’t cave when I begged her to sign the forms. Even though I suspect she silently disagreed with Dad about this. So, it was either figure skating or no skating. There were things I ended up loving. Mostly the sensation of flying across the ice and launching my body into the air. It’s truly magical to leap and then to land—when I landed correctly. There were plenty of times I didn’t, and the flying preceded a painful fall. But the moments of pure freedom and perfect landings ended all too quickly. The pressure was immense. Being watched and judged for the tiniest of technical mistakes. Not to mention all the unwanted attention on my body, my outfits, even my expressions. When you’re going through puberty while wearing skintight sparkles under a spotlight, it’s impossible not to feel self-conscious. For the first time in years, I wonder if I could land some of my old jumps. My muscle memory still retains the knowledge of how to do a lutz, but I question my current ability to land it ...