“Sorry,” Mark chuckled. White blade marks scarred the once perfect ice. “I couldn’t stop.”
“It’s fine, Mister ‘I can skate insanely fast.’”
Mark laughed and apologized again as he got back up on his skates and brushed his hands against his worn out, now-wet jeans to remove the remaining snow. He then pulled me up from the frozen surface and into his arms, keeping me in his embrace until my skates were firmly planted in place on the ice.
The cold began to sting my face. “Wanna go inside and get some nachos or something?” I asked, the words rising into the air in a foggy cloud of warm breath.
“Sure.”

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