Phil pirouetted gracefully into the air, feeling the magic of the moment pulsing through his veins. His skates touched back onto the ice, landing smoothly and softly so he could slide into a few circles. With eyes closed, Phil imagined a stadium filled with people cheering as he twirled and leaped, clad in a sparkly, shimmering outfit. When his eyes opened, however, the image fell around him. The idea of letting the world know of his passion for ice skating made him shudder with fear. They would laugh at him, they would shut him out. The pain of the thought made him skitter, and he fell hard onto the ice below.
Slowly, painfully, Phil pulled himself back up and glided to the pile of snow where his shoes lay. He sat on the fluffy, white, cold mid- winter snow with a soft thump and pulled his Converse back on to his numb feet. Shivering, he walked back through the snow to his car, parked on the lamp- lit street. No longer lost in the world of ice skating, Phil felt fear as the dark pressed down on him, hiding his darkest fears just beyond his line of sight. He quickened his pace.
The ride home was a bliss in the heat- filled car. The soft quiet of winter drifted outside Phil's frosty windows, the peaceful silence occasionally broken by the sound of another car making its way through the slush filled streets. After a quick, cold walk back to the apartment, he opened the door and felt warmth wash over him again, not entirely due to the fact that the apartment was heated.
Dan stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, wearing one of Phil's Christmas sweaters, his face pulled tightly with worry. Once he saw Phil, his expression softened for a fleeting second before turning into one of anger.
"Phil! Where were you? I've been so worried!"
"I told you, I was at the grocery store!"
"Then why don't you have any groceries?" Shit! Phil had forgotten to buy groceries on his way home.
"I- I didn't find anything we needed." he felt shame well up at the lie.
"Why are you all wet?"
"It snowed. And I kind of- stood outside for a while." Dan shook his head.
"Phil, you could have gotten hypothermia. Come inside and get warm, maybe take a hot shower or change." Phil looked down at his sopping wet clothes, dripping puddles onto the hardwood floor. He hadn't even noticed.
"Right. Well- um, see you at dinner." Phil hurried by, careful to keep his skates concealed in the black bag he had. Dan thought it was Phil's man- purse, and laughed at him about it constantly. But he would laugh more if he knew what was inside. How long could he keep his secret passion hidden, before someone found out and made him a laughingstock? Boys weren't supposed to ice skate. They were supposed to like things like sports, or video games.
Phil's mind was full of thought as he showered, dressed, and ate dinner. If Dan noticed his silence, he didn't say anything. 'He must know something's up,' Phil thought to himself. 'If I keep going like this he'll start to investigate.'
As he drifted off to sleep, Phil's dreams filled with the feeling of freedom as he danced across the ice, the sound of his skates scraping against the frozen water, and the sight of Dan, laughing at him from the sidelines.
