Until We Meet Again

Chapter Four: Young Love

Tuesday, 7:45 pm.

The day had practically flown by, it was almost embarrassing at how fast I bolted home. Tonight's date with Andrew filled my mind, pushing out everything else, even that awful history exam. I sighed, brushed off the frustration, and started fussing with my hair, curling each piece until it framed my face just right. A bit of blush here, lip gloss there, it had to be perfect. I checked my dress in the mirror, smoothing it down and adjusting the hem for the tenth time, just to be sure. I pulled open the old trunk in the corner and took out my mom's vintage figure skates, carefully cradling them in my hands. They'd been hers at my age, and now they were my lucky charm. Slipping on some cozy leg warmers, I held the skates close as I glanced in the mirror one last time, checking myself out a little. Then, finally, I heard a knock at the door. My heart skipped as I opened it, and there was Andrew, looking as handsome as ever. For a moment, I just stared, wondering if I should just lean in and kiss him. But nerves got the best of me, so I stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug instead, my hands lingering on the cool leather of his jacket, feeling his arms pull me close.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft as he studied me, his gaze lingering just a little too long on my lips. I felt my cheeks flush, and when he offered to carry my skates, I handed them over, still a bit breathless. His hand slipped into mine as he led me to his car, opening the door with that sweet, effortless charm. I settled in, stealing glances at him as he set the skates carefully at my feet. "Ready?" he asked, giving me that crooked, playful grin that always made me smile. I nodded giddily, blushing as I admired him for a moment longer. The drive to the rink was comfortable and quiet, filled with shared glances and shy smiles. When we arrived, Andrew got out first, grabbing both of our skates and hurrying over to open my door. He helped me out, his hand steady around mine, as we made our way inside. His arm brushed mine as he led me to a bench, and I could feel the warmth of him sitting close beside me as he tied his skates.

I looked down at my skates, still untied, fingers frozen with embarrassment. Andrew looked over confused, and I glanced at him and facepalmed. Andrew noticed and gave me a teasing smile. "Need a hand?"

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I nodded, and he slipped down onto one knee in front of me. For a ridiculous moment, I thought of him proposing, and I almost laughed at myself. Instead, I watched as he gently laced up my skates, his big hands moving with surprising care. "There," he murmured, standing up and offering his hand. I took it and tried to stand, instantly wobbling on the skates. A wave of panic hit me, and I clutched his arms, my heart racing. "You're good," he assured me, his voice light but steady. "I'm not letting you go that easily."

He helped me to the rink, his arm wrapped around my waist as he guided me onto the ice. My feet started to slide in opposite directions, and I squeaked, gripping him tighter. He laughed softly, pulling me closer, and I couldn't help but smile, feeling a little braver. After a few hesitant steps, I began to find my balance, loosening my grip just a little. When I looked up, he was grinning. "You're doing it!" he cheered, clapping lightly. "And look, no hands."

I laughed, realizing I'd been gliding for a few moments on my own. We kept going, him occasionally teasing me, and me tossing back playful glares and sarcastic quips until, finally, I felt okay. Confident, even.

After what felt like hours, we stepped off the ice. My cheeks were flushed from the cold and laughter, and I couldn't stop smiling as Andrew helped me with my skates once again. He was so close I could feel the warmth radiating off him, and my heart pounded as he brushed a stray curl from my face. He hesitated, his fingers lingering by my cheek before he pulled back. The drive home was quiet but comfortable, his eyes meeting mine every so often in the dim glow of the dashboard lights. When he pulled up to my house, he turned, his eyes crinkling in that familiar, playful way.