This is half the length of a normal chapter! It's all one long scene, and I think I prefer it on its own.
Officially, Schur High lets out for winter break at twelve noon the Friday before Christmas.
But instead of heading to their various subway stations and bus stops, most of the students traipse (in a long, snaky line of friend-clusters) to the outdoor skating rink that's only a few blocks away from their school, and spend a few hours falling all over the ice.
Amy loves it, because she's actually a really good skater, having taken lessons for most of elementary school, and she relishes every chance she can get to show off. But other people (like, say, Jake Peralta) are unapologetically awful, and apparently enjoy landing on their asses time and time again while trying to skate backwards or with their eyes closed.
"Why'd you get guy skates?" Gina asks Rosa, swapping out the boring white laces on her own skates for a neon green pair she brought from home.
"They're not guy skates," Rosa explains, "they're just hockey skates. Way more badass."
"Whatever," says Gina.
"Hey, you guys, come on!" Terry speeds across the ice towards them, executing a sequence of complicated footwork.
"Whoa," someone nearby says. "I did not expect that from Jeffords!"
"Hey, just 'cause I play football doesn't mean I don't have depths! Ice dancing is a highlight of the Winter Olympics."
"Damn straight!" Charles chimes in, still desperately grabbing to the wall. "Of course, just because I appreciate the sport doesn't mean I'm any good at it…"
"Here, I'll help you," Amy says, stepping onto the ice and taking Charles' hands in hers. "I'll skate backwards while you go forwards; it'll help stabilize you."
"Thanks," Charles says cheerfully, and they start moving slowly across the ice.
After a couple minutes of awkward silence, Charles opts for even awkwarder conversation. "So what's going on with you and Jake?"
"Jake who?" Amy asks, even though she knows very well what he's talking about.
"Peralta. You guys were supposed to go to winter formal together, and he bailed on you, and now you're mad at him and not speaking to him."
"Yeah, that about sums it up."
"Well, you should know he's really sorry and he wants to be friends again."
"Did he tell you to say that?"
"No!" protests Charles unconvincingly. "He just...he screwed up, okay? And English is way less fun when you guys aren't bickering."
"We do not bicker," says Amy with dignity, and, releasing Charles' hands, skates away.
To her great surprise, she spots Holt on the ice, a few feet away from her, gliding majestically, his dark head in contrast to the unruly mops of hair on the teenagers around him.
"Mr. Holt!" she says breathlessly. "What are you doing here?"
"Chaperoning, Miss Santiago," he replies inscrutably. "Ensuring that you youths don't kill yourselves."
"We appreciate it!" Amy cooes, hating herself.
"Thank you. And now, if you'll excuse me, I must perform that duty. It seems Mr. Peralta is attempting to throw Mr. Boyle in the air. This seems destined for disaster." He swooshes away.
Amy glances after him, and sees that, indeed, Jake and Charles are trying out some kind of pairs-skating lift thing.
"Ooh, do you think they'll get seriously injured?" asks Rosa eagerly, speeding up so she's skating parallel to Amy.
"I hope not."
"I hope so."
Across the rink, Holt's talking to Charles and Jake, but, weirdly, instead of chewing them out like Amy expects, he just nods and skates away, letting them continue whatever dangerous thing they're doing.
"What's going on?" Amy turns to Rosa, but she's gone-in fact, as she looks around, Amy realizes that there's no one left on her half of the rink. No one left on the ice at all, in fact, except for her, and Jake, and Charles, who leaves his weird ice-dancing position and shuffles over to the side of the rink, where there's...a boom box?
And music starts playing, and Amy's very confused, and all the way over on the other side of the rink, Jake's skating in circles, nodding to the beat as George Michael's voice starts to sing: "I feel so unsure as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor…"
He makes his way across the ice, doing this weird half-shake half-dance thing with his upper body, and she's a bit amused and a bit worried he's going to fall down.
He reaches her midway through the first chorus, and before the second verse starts he slides to his knees in front of her. His face takes on a mock-serious cast, and he makes a fist and pulls his hand down dramatically past his face, and, looking up at her, sings along to the music:
"Time can never mend
The careless whispers of a good friend
To the heart and mind
Ignorance is kind
There's no comfort in the truth; pain is all you find
I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
Shoulda known better than to cheat a friend
Waste the chance that I'd been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you…"
"Amy," he says, as the trumpet solo takes over, "I'm sorry I stood you up, okay? And I wanted to show you, in front of everyone, that I care about you, and about being your friend, and I totally understand if you're still mad at me and still don't want to talk to me, but I thought I'd ask one more time...can you forgive me?"
"Stand up, you idiot," she says, rolling her eyes at his antics, and helps him to his feet.
He offers a hand to her. "Would you care to dance, my lady?"
"I should be honored, good sir," she says, smiling despite herself, and takes his hand, and they swing across the ice, Amy going backwards and Jake going forwards, swaying slightly to the song, spinning around and around, until the music fades out and everyone else gets back on the ice, and they all skate until the light starts to fade, and that's when winter break begins at Schur High.