Mal held open the door for Joseph as they entered the community centre. They were going to the library to study for that music theory test, but Mal had to go pick up his cousin Amandla from ballet practice. Joseph stood at the main entrance, his eyes landing on the ice rink.
To his surprise, the rink was already in use, and it was only October.
A figure skater is warming up across the rink, stretching her arms above her head, her rib cage poking through her tight shirt. He'd recognize that pink hair anywhere.
He lets his bag drop to the floor and leans against the glass, interested.
Kole is young and lithe, but the loose skirt and tight shirt she's wearing let Joseph see that small as she is, she is solid muscle. She skates with the ease of long practice, sliding across the ice as if she was born with the skates laced onto her feet. She is doing small things now, small leaps to warm up, ducking, turning to the beat of the music of her earbuds, eyes heavy-lidded.
In the bright lighting of the rink they look cornflower blue. Her movements are graceful and easy, so Joseph decides to stick around and watch, sitting down.
After a few more wide laps, the skater begins to gather momentum and stretch her limbs, working through some token artistic skating poses. Even with her left leg high in the air, her right skate slides without trembling on top of the ice, arms and body perfectly balanced. Her skating really is superb. It gains complexity as time moves on; she moves from basic skating skills to advanced ones, warming up her muscles to abrupt turns and flawlessly executed stops of varied abruptness, never once wobbling or hesitating.
Finally she moves onto advanced maneuvers. Leaps and turns and abilities that make Joseph stare in awe. He doesn't know the names of the moves, but he can appreciate their difficulty. Gripping the blade of the left foot to stretch it back over her head; turning on one spot dozens of times, and Joseph doesn't understand how she manages not to vomit at the speed with which she spins.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Mal exit the ballet studio, holding Amandla's hand and sits down on the seat next to Joseph.
Joseph watches, entranced, admiring the ease and the relaxation of Kole, compelled by the obvious delight, listening to the minute sounds as she throws power into a move to complete it. A leap, a turn, a turn followed by a leap, unbelievable moves Joseph could never hope to achieve.
Crescendo and conclusion. Kole gathers speed and momentum and throws everything into a flying turn, spinning in the air—lands on the right foot, overbalances, crashes into the ice and against the wall. Joseph scrambles to his feet, shocked at the catastrophe, and goes to the opening to the rink, but even as he reaches it she is sitting up already, wincing but unharmed.
"You alright?" Mal yells across, reluctant to step onto the ice in his sneakers.
"I'm fine," Kole answers wearily, tugging her earplugs away from her ears before rubbing her right shoulder.
"Did you get hurt?"
"No more than usual," Kole called back, painfully pulling herself onto her feet. "Hey, wait, is that Joseph?"
Joseph grinned and waved. Kole smiled and skated over, slower now and still rubbing her right shoulder.
"The triple axel gets me every time. How awful did it look?"
Joseph blinked and considered. It looked amazing. I just think you put too much power onto it.
The figure skater drags a hand down her face, cheeks reddened by exertion and the cold of the rink, blue eyes stunning.
"Yeah, that's always the problem. So, what are you two doing here?"
We have to study for a music theory test, Joseph signed.
"Yeah, Toni told me about it," Kole nodded, her eyes spotting the small girl in the pink tutu. "Hi there! What's your name?"
The girl smiled shyly, but hid behind Mal's jeans.
"Amandla," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
"Hi, Amandla. I'm Kole."
"Yeah, I know," she said, her voice louder and more confident now. "Mal says Joseph mentions you all the time."
Joseph felt the heat rush to his face. Kole looked at him, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"That's because we're best friends," Kole smiled. "Anyway, I better get back to practice. Nice seeing you guys. Oh, and Joseph, remember study session for mid-terms at Toni's next week."
Joseph nods, making his way to the library. They sit down at a table in the corner as Amandla goes to get a children's book. Ten minutes in the study session, he says he has to go to the washroom and finds himself next to the rink once again.
Kole executes several other skills, twice more tries to do the axel and fails. Every time she gets up and does it again. Joseph knows she must be covered in bruises and aching all over; the ice is harsh to land on and the velocity and power of the movements must make it even harder.
Around ten minutes before three, the hockey team starts arriving. Joseph knows he needs to go and study for the music theory test, but for a moment he lingers where he sits. Kole is sitting on the ice, breathing harshly, leaning her elbows on her knees. Finally she wipes a gloved hand under her nose, and gets up and skates slowly to the edge. As she starts unlacing her skates, Joseph gets up and returns to library.
He sits down across from Mal and opens up his music binder, not meeting Amandla or Mal in the eyes.
"You sure spent a while in the washroom," Mal commented, writing down notes.
"Joey had to do number two," Amandla announced, flipping the page of a Robert Munch book.
Joseph laughed silently, shaking his head. There was a line-up.
"Sure, sure," Mal rolled his eyes. "A line-up to watch Kole maybe."
Joseph turned red. I don't know what you're talking about.
"Joey, you've got it bad," Amandla told him, the words sounding so strange coming from a seven year old's mouth. "Joey and Kole sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-"
Joseph shushed her (the one thing he could do), putting a finger to his lips. Even though Amandla couldn't read sign language like Mal and Kole could, she could read body language and she could read it well.
"Okay, okay, Joey," Amandla's brown eyes twinkled. "I get it, you don't want anyone to know. But I know. And you know. Just tell her, you fool!"
Joseph groaned. If telling her was as easy as second grade, I would.