Chapter 19

Tugging down his shirts, Dante flops back into his seat, his sweatshirt balled up in his lap. “Look at this,” he says, and when Ryan obeys, he pulls the sleeve of his shirt up over one slim arm. Ryan sees tanned skin marred by a thin scar that runs the length of Dante’s forearm, from the base of his thumb to the crook of his elbow. Tracing the scar with one finger, Dante tells him, “Semi-finals last year, I got tangled up with Dietrich in the final stretch. Those blades are sharp, you know?” Ryan nods—he knows.

Tentatively, he touches the scar, Dante’s skin warm beneath his…will his legs heal this completely? Will this pain that rattles his bones narrow down to something as simple as this? A scar, a memory, a battle story told to another skater down the road? He hopes so.