Chapter 18

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Later, “Now, skate opposite Milo and imitate his moves,” another tactic. “Good, Thomas.”

“Tom Alan.” He and Milo both said it.

Mrs. Mischen even skated with Tom Alan for a while, after her students had left. Milo watched. Irina Mischen couldn’t do a throw quad, but dang if the lady didn’t pull off a double or two, once Tom Alan got over the trepidation of A, touching a strange older woman, and B, chucking one.

“Gently,” she prompted. “This is for fun—for presentation practice, not for medals.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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By the end of a very hard three hours, Tom Alan was beat. Irina Mischen made elegance seem way harder than full-on athleticism. He had stripped off his top layers, down to a plain white T-shirt, and was guzzling from his water bottle when Milo skated by and gave the bottom of the bottle a hard whap, spilling water down Tom Alan’s front.