All his movements felt rushed and unrhythmic. The only time he smoothed out his actions was on the ice. I still had that handwriting somewhere in one of my boxes of old things... On sweet, but always slightly crude, birthday and Valentine’s Day cards, signed ‘Love you, Grey.’ I had that last name printed on half a dozen ratty, old sweatshirts put away somewhere in my garage. I wore that last name for so many years, and for the longest time I thought it’d be mine- something that, even a decade later, made me want to break down and cry.
