Chapter 10
Mutual
The days passed in a blur of drills, mistakes, and small victories. Each practice, though filled with frustration, was also a learning experience. There were moments where they caught themselves smiling at each other's antics or laughing at their own missteps. What had begun as a bitter rivalry was slowly but surely shifting, like a crack in ice that deepens with time.
It was the first time Emery was attempting her spins with a sense of confidence, trying to perfect the precision and fluidity she was known for. She had always prided herself on her ability to spin and glide with grace, but today, the edge wasn't there. She lost her balance midway through a jump, slamming her skate against the ice and nearly falling flat. Her legs shook from the effort, and frustration rose in her chest like a tidal wave.
"Hey, you good?" Ryder's voice broke through her irritation, and she snapped her head up to see him skating over. She had barely noticed him skating in the background while she focused on her routine, but now that he was here, she felt her cheeks heat up in irritation.
"I'm fine," she snapped, but even she could hear the edge in her voice. "I just… can't seem to get this right today."
Ryder didn't say anything at first, just circled her a few times, his hockey skates slicing through the ice with ease. It was odd to see him so calm when she was in a state of frustration, especially after how he had been earlier in their practice sessions.
Finally, he stopped in front of her, a slight smirk playing at his lips. "You know, if you're having trouble with your spins, I could spot you."
Emery blinked, her mind racing. He wants to help me? The same Ryder who mocked her movements on the ice? Right. But then she saw the genuine look in his eyes, and for a moment, she hesitated.
"You want to spot me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She couldn't remember the last time someone had offered her help without an ulterior motive. She had always been the one doing the helping. "Don't you have your own drills to work on?"
"I'm fine," he replied casually, his confidence unwavering. "And besides, maybe you'll show me how it's done. Figure skating looks way harder than I thought."
There it was again: the rare hint of vulnerability. It wasn't much, but it was there. Ryder Kessler, the arrogant captain of the hockey team, was admitting that he needed help too.
Emery considered it for a moment, still a bit wary, but the tension between them had softened, even in the smallest ways. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. But you better not drop me, or I'll make you regret it."
Ryder rolled his eyes but grinned. "Deal."
Ryder knelt in front of her, his expression more serious now, focusing on the way she stood, her posture straight, her arms poised. He motioned to her form. "Alright, just focus on your center. Don't think too much about the speed, just control the flow of your movement."
Emery stood up straighter, a little uncomfortable with how closely he was inspecting her, but she forced herself to focus. She could do this. She would do this.
"I'll help you get that spin right," Ryder continued. "Just concentrate on your balance."
He offered his hands to steady her as she attempted the spin again. Her first attempt was shaky, and her feet slipped awkwardly, but Ryder caught her before she could fall.
"Easy there," he muttered, steadying her with surprising gentleness. The brief contact sent a strange shiver up her spine.
"Thanks," Emery mumbled, pulling away from his grasp, though she didn't quite know why she felt a bit disappointed.
Ryder didn't make a big deal of it, his usual cocky demeanor returning as he stepped back. "You just need to focus on where you're going, not on not falling."
She took a deep breath, nodded, and tried again, this time managing to spin a little better, though she still wobbled. The relief she felt when she didn't fall this time was palpable.
"That's better," Ryder said, his voice a little softer than usual. "See? Not so bad."
"Yeah," Emery said with a wry smile. "I guess you're not as useless as I thought."
He raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I told you I could help." His tone had that familiar edge to it, but there was something different about the way he said it now. It wasn't the usual bravado—it was genuine.
Later, it was Emery's turn to help Ryder. She had no illusions about being the best at hockey, but the thought of showing Ryder how to glide with more control and ease was too tempting. She put aside her natural caution, determined to make him feel as awkward as she did when she first attempted figure skating.
She stood on the ice, watching as Ryder clumsily adjusted his hockey pads, his expression unreadable. He was still the same cocky guy who liked to pretend he knew everything, but something in his stance made her realize just how out of his depth he was.
"So, what's the first lesson?" Ryder asked, an amused smile on his face.
"Gliding," Emery said, hands on her hips, trying to hide the grin tugging at her lips. "You don't need to push the skates so hard. You need to find the flow of the ice."
"Right," Ryder said sarcastically, gliding forward with his usual rough energy, and just as quickly, he lost his balance and nearly collided with a nearby wall.
Emery stifled a laugh, but she couldn't help the amusement that bubbled up inside her. "You're gonna hurt yourself at this rate," she teased.
He shot her a look but gave a sheepish grin, shaking his head. "Okay, okay. Show me how it's done, then."
Emery skated over to him, demonstrating the simplest glide across the rink, allowing her body to move fluidly with the ice, her arms extended gracefully. As she turned back to Ryder, she could see the beginnings of understanding in his eyes.
"Like this?" he asked, trying to replicate her movement but still over-exaggerating the push of his feet.
"Sort of," she said, stepping closer. She adjusted his stance, positioning his body in a more controlled way, showing him how to keep his feet underneath his center of balance. "You don't have to rush. Just focus on smoothness. Gliding is all about feeling the ice, not fighting against it."
Ryder nodded slowly, attempting again. This time, he managed to glide a few feet without wobbling, his concentration making his movements more fluid.
"Okay, okay, I get it," Ryder said, sounding almost impressed. "I didn't know you could teach hockey players how to skate. I thought that was a given."
Emery raised an eyebrow. "Well, I didn't know you'd be this bad at it."
His grin faded slightly, and they both shared a moment of mutual understanding. Neither was perfect, and neither had the answers to each other's worlds, but in that moment, they were two skaters trying to survive on the same ice.
Their rivalry still simmered underneath the surface, but something else—something softer—was beginning to grow between them. For the first time, neither of them felt like they were competing against the other. They were simply sharing the ice, learning from each other, and maybe—just maybe—beginning to see the other in a new light.