Free Breaking the Ice by Gail Nall Page B

pecking away at her phone—and probably not the camera app. Mrs. Thomas starts writing in her notebook again.
    â€œWhat’s your mom always writing?” I ask Addison.
    â€œNone of your business.” She crosses her arms and turns to listen to Jill, who’s rapping on the wall again.
    Oookay. I try to forget about Addison and pay attention to what Jill’s saying about posture. The rest of the class time is spent practicing the hold while adding some steps. Everything is really quick and snappy. I can see exactly why Greg created the footwork sequence the way he did. It completely fits the whole tango mood.
    â€œGood. Very good,” Fernando says as he passes me testing out steps in front of the mirrors.
    I smile at myself. Maybe I can do this tango thing after all.

    Or maybe not.
    â€œWhat are you doing with your arms?” Greg asks as I finish the last turn in the footwork during my lesson on Saturday morning. “You look so stiff.”
    â€œUm, it’s the tango hold I learned at dance class.” I twistmy hands together. I thought I was doing a good job of adding in what I’d learned to my program.
    A corner of Greg’s mouth tilts up, like he wants to smile. “I see. What you want to take from those classes is more of the feel of tango. The emotion of it,” he says. “Not necessarily the actual dance. And relax your arms a little.”
    I thought I was getting the feel of the tango. I mean, I was trying to do the quick feet thing and the arms.
    â€œI think a lesson with Svetlana will help you connect the dance with your skating,” Greg says. “I’ll schedule one with her this coming week. Good work today. I’ll see you on Monday.”
    I glide to the boards to collect my stuff, and Braedon scrapes to a stop next to me. “Hey, what are you doing now?”
    Is he asking me to hang out with him? I swallow hard and pay close attention to pulling off my gloves as we walk through the doors from the ice. “Just hanging out in the lobby until stretching class.”
    He pushes his hair out of his eyes, and I try not to stare. His eyes are really, really blue.
    â€œWe’ve got some time. Want to walk down to the convenience store? I need a Coke, but the snack bar’s closed,” he says.
    â€œSure, I guess.” My heart leaps around in my chest. “Let me tell my mom.”
    â€œNot enough time, Double Axel. Besides, she looks busy. She’ll never even notice.” He sits on a chair and yanks his skates off.
    I glance at Mom. She’s deep in conversation with a couple of other parents. She didn’t even see me get off the ice. I pull my skates off too and stuff my feet into my sneakers.
    â€œC’mon, let’s go.” Braedon leads the way to the front door.
    I jog after him, feeling like I’m sneaking out or something. As we walk quickly down the sidewalk toward the corner, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m doing something wrong. I really should’ve talked to Mom. What if she’s looking for me? She’ll freak out when she can’t find me, and I’ll never hear the end of it. I should’ve at least grabbed my phone from my skate bag.
    The bell over the door jingles as Braedon pushes it open. He pulls two Cokes from the shelf, and we make our way to the checkout counter.
    â€œHey, man!” A kid about our age with stringy blond hair is paying for a bag of chips.
    A smile slides across Braedon’s face. And I can’t breathe. He’s so cute, with those dimples that only come out when he smiles. I’d noticed how good-looking he was before, but now I’m really seeing it. His bright blue eyes. The dark brown hair that’s just a little too long.
    â€œWill? Hey, what’s going on?” Braedon says to the stringy-haired guy.
    â€œI heard you got kicked out of school last spring,” Will says.
    â€œNot kicked out, really. Just asked to