Chapter 50

“I don’t…”

“Shush. Look.”

He did. And though he’d watched video of himself skating time and time again—it was an integral part of improving, standard practice—what he saw in Jenn’s video, though blurry and poorly lit, was a flair, a wanton, reckless beauty he had never seen, not since watching Milo do “Swan Lake.”

“What’s different about this? What’s different about you, that you could do this tonight?” Jenn asked. “Gimme your e-mail.”

“Huh?”

“You need to watch this over and over. Figure out how come, and don’t take this wrong, figure out how come that dorky, cumbersome, talented, athletic, but really self-conscious guy that skated with me this morning, tonight managed to pull off this.”

She sent Tom Alan the video and kissed him on the cheek. “I wish I could have the chance to skate with him,” she said.

“Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I can…”

“Sadly, I won’t be here tomorrow,” Jenn said.

“Huh?”