recklessly

ii.//a midnight escapade

“It’s closed,” you point out obviously.

“Yeah, but if I let every cardboard sign stop me, I’d never get anywhere, would I?”

You hang back as he fiddles with the door to the skate rink. It’s not like you gave a crap that breaking and entering is against the law, and it’s not like you were squeaky clean in that department either. You’ve been following Chance around for over an hour now; window shopping and watching the cars dash by, jumping into and around puddles, buying candy on a whim and pretending to be santa’s little elves and leaving chocolate next to homeless people. You think he’s insane, but it hasn’t occurred you to stop shadowing him, so you’re not really one to talk.

“Ta-da!” Chance beams as he swings the door open. “The wonderful skills of lockpicking learned from Youtube!”

“There are no alarms?” You follow him inside the dark rink anyway.

“Nope. It’s old and only opens on weekends for drop-ins. It’s still running only because of city hall’s donations----something about tradition and community feels. People have been breaking in here for years, anyway. I mean, isn’t it the perfect date idea?”

You frown, but refuse to answer. You watch him scramble around to flick on the lights and unlock the gates. He gets things open and ready and then stops in front of you, holding out a hand.

“But we don’t have skates,” you say, stalling.

“Right there.” He points at the rental booth.

“We didn’t pay.”

He rolls his eyes. “Dude, we just broke in here. Come on. Are you scared?”

“No.” You ignore his hand, going over to the rentals.

“That’s the spirit, Sky.”

You twitch, but continue searching for your size in silence. Somewhere between running through the rain and jaywalking across the streets, he’s taken to that nickname for you. It’s strange, because you don’t feel the need to tell him off and chase him away like anyone and everyone else. Maybe because he’s kept his word and he’s made you forget about everything for an hour and more-----and it doesn’t look like he’s planning on stopping.

“Done?” Chance has already laced up his skates. He stands, grinning down at you.

“Mm.” You wobble slightly but catch yourself before falling on your face, or worse, into his arms. You follow him onto the ice, despite your apprehension and the fact that you haven’t put on skates in years.

“Aw, yeah!” he crows, gliding across the ice so smoothly it’s almost like a dream.

You move along the edge of the rink, somehow still upright. You’re barely skating but you’re too busy watching him zooming around and spinning and turning and being all sorts of captivating. You were never one for watching the Olympics or even the sports channel, but right now, watching him, you find there’s nothing more breathtaking than him moving down the ice and leaping into the air, so gracefully and so easily, like sunlight on water, like dandelions drifting in the wind.

“Hey, don’t just stand there,” says Chance, skating over to you. “We’ve got this whole rink for just the two of us. Kinda romantic, huh?” He winks at you playfully.

You give him a look, and he holds up his hands.

“Okay, not going there. But come on, don’t be shy.” He skates backwards in front of you, holding his hands out. “You do know how to skate, right?”

“Yes,” you says through gritted teeth. Bracing yourself, you push away from the edge, inching across the ice cautiously.

“Mm-hmm.” He skates in a circle around you. “That’s not skating, Sky. That’s embarrassing.”