She gripped tightly to the edge of the rink.
“Come on,” he said, drifting backwards away from her.
He slid across the ice without hesitation. She felt unstable, walking on two blades.
“Don’t worry about taking your feet from the ground. You don’t. Think about sliding across the kitchen in your socks.”
It was hard while it was so cold. She slid her right foot in front of her left. She had to let go of the edge.
“You can do this.”
She used to do this all the time. She couldn’t remember. She let go.