Chapter 22

The ice-skating rink outside the Rockefeller Center looked picture perfect, like an image straight from a greeting card. On the hard, white ice people skated around, laughing and smiling, lost to the fun of the moment. Dusty and Kyera stood on the periphery of the scene, unsure whether to participate. "I'm not a skater," Kyera protested for the third time, shaking her head stubbornly.

"Neither am I, but that's what makes it fun," Dusty tried to convince her. The Kyera from Princeton had been fearless, but this new Kyera was more reserved, more timid at times. "I promise to hold you up if you fall," Dusty said teasingly.

"You're not going to shut up until I give it a try, are you?"

"Nope."

"Awkward as ever, I see." Kyera smiled and sighed with resignation. "Let's go make fools of ourselves by being the typical tourists who can't skate."

"You know, if you were a dwarf, you'd be Grumpy," Dusty declared as they headed over to pay and collect skates.

"Yeah, well, you'd be Dopey," Kyera instantly replied. Dusty had always admired her quick wit, it made her a great sparring partner for bantering, and she enjoyed seeing that old side of her re-emerge. As Dusty tentatively stepped out on to the ice, she began to wonder if she'd made the wrong decision in insisting that they partake in the cliché pastime.

The moment her first blade connected with the ice she realized how precariously she held her balance as her feet tried to slip and slide beneath her. Behind her, Kyera wasn't faring any better. Nervously, she got onto the ice but then remained at the edge, clutching desperately to the side. Dusty hovered close to her, though she was trying to skate without the aid of the side.

"You know, I think this would have worked better if at least one of us could skate," Kyera commented as a seven- year-old glided effortlessly past her, causing her to scowl. She never liked being shown up.

"We're doing fine," Dusty insisted, though she did feel Kyera was perhaps right. After they'd edged around a quarter of the rink, she decided it was time to take things up a notch. She took Kyera's hands, leading her out on to the ice. Her feet whirled madly beneath her, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

"I have poor balance," Kyera insisted, blushing.

"Let's just try to skate a bit," Dusty declared, pulling Kyera towards her. But as Kyera drew closer, taking her weight in Dusty hands caused Dusty to lose her own center of gravity. She wobbled at first, her feet darting precariously beneath her, but then she steadied again. "See, we're fine." She smiled. But then she wobbled again and this time went crashing down onto the ice, her left hip taking the brunt of the fall. Above her, Kyera was looking down, smiling, and seeming to at last be having fun.

"Don't just stand there smiling," Dusty said tersely, reaching up towards her. "Help me up!"

"No way, if I help you, I'll go down. We're stranded. We might as well just wait until the rink closes and someone takes pity on us and takes us back to civilization," Kyera joked.

"This isn't the time to be funny!" Dusty grumbled, trying to push herself up with her hands and failing, as she just kept slipping back down. Her left side was beginning to throb with pain, and she was keen to leave the rink and go enjoy a hot chocolate somewhere. "Kyera, please." She held her hands up towards her and gave her a pitiful glance.

Kyera watched her with amusement, making no effort to help. As Dusty sat there helpless, she remembered another time she'd gone skating, with a woman far more chivalrous than Kyera. Valentine had effortlessly skated around with her, keen to make sure she was all right, ever the gentle lady. She'd felt safe with her, and when Valentine looked at her, she could see in her eyes that she adored her, but she was too young then to appreciate what that truly meant.

Kyera looked at her like a child might look at their favorite toy. She belonged to her, or had once, and she was proud of her, but she didn't adore her, she sensed that much. Now, as Kyera watched her struggling on the ice, she was proving the lack of depth to her feelings once more. However much she may have once loved her, she would always love herself more, and a part of Dusty had always known that. Perhaps it was why she had been happy to forsake her over the summer in favor of visiting Europe with Ashley.

"Kyera, come on, help me up!" Dusty shouted, growing increasingly agitated by her lack of intervention. Finally, Kyera conceded to help, mostly because she was bored of skating and wanted to leave. She reached down and took Dusty's hands in her and began lifting her up onto her feet. But as predicted, the moment she was almost back up, Kyera lost her footing and went crashing down onto the ice, with Dusty quickly following, landing directly on top of her.

Around them some people sniggered at the scene, and as Dusty tried to get off of Kyera, she saw the funny side of the situation and began to laugh. "It's not funny. You weigh a ton!" Kyera moaned, but she was smirking, always finding it funny. "I'm so pleased you said we should come skating," she continued sarcastically. "I've had a blast."

"How are we going to get out?" Dusty asked, smiling. It was clear that they'd need outside assistance to make it back to the safety of the edge.

"I think we'll be stuck here forever," Kyera teased. "I've got some mints in my pocket, but we'll need to ration them if it's all we have and we don't know how long we're going to be out here."

"You're not funny."

"You're right. I'm not funny, I'm hilarious." Kyera stuck her tongue out playfully. After ten minutes of scrambling around in vain, a passing couple took pity on them and kindly helped them to their feet and escorted them back off the ice. Dusty thanked them while Kyera remained silent, blushing with embarrassment.

"Okay, you were right, skating wasn't the best idea," Dusty concluded as they walked away from the skating rink.

"So what now?"

"I'm in the mood for hot chocolate."

"I could go for something stronger," Kyera declared, rubbing her now extremely sore back.

****

In the boutique tea room, Dusty picked off the marshmallows from the top of her hot chocolate while Kyera nursed her neat whiskey. "I don't know how you can drink that stuff." Dusty looked at the tumbler and frowned. She remembered how her father had favored the drink, pouring himself one after a long day and settling down in front of the television. She'd sipped some once when he wasn't looking and thought that it tasted revolting, like varnish.

"You get used to it." Kyera shrugged. "And it's warming."

"Are you okay to drink on your meds?" Dusty asked. Kyera nodded in response. "I can't imagine you as a teacher," she continued.

"Why not?"

"I guess because I know you, like seeing you as an authority figure would be strange."

"Teachers are people like anyone else." Kyera shrugged, taking a sip of her whiskey and enjoying the warming sensation that trickled down her throat. Talking about teachers made Dusty once again think of Valentine. Lately she was struggling to keep her out of her thoughts. She wondered what she had been like prior to becoming a teacher. Had she been lost and without direction like Kyera had been, or had she always known what her calling would be?

"What's on your mind?"

"Huh?" Dusty snapped back to reality, surprised by the question.

"You looked deep in thought," Kyera explained.

"Oh, nothing, just daydreaming, I guess."

"I'm going to have some killer bruises," Kyera said, wincing as she rearranged herself on the wooden chair, her back protesting each movement.

"Me too," Dusty agreed, rubbing her sore hip.

"It's a shame you don't have a bathtub at your place. I could go for a nice long soak right about now."

"Where would a bathtub go? There's hardly room to swing a cat in my apartment." Dusty laughed.

"It's certainly cozy," Kyera said kindly, sugarcoating the fact that she lived in a shoe box. "But you're doing it. You're following your dream, and I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Kyera."

"I know I didn't make things easy for you," Kyera noted sadly, looking down into her drink with despondent eyes.

"You had your reasons for what you did."

"I ruined your graduation."

"You're giving yourself too much credit," Dusty teased. "You maybe made it more dramatic, but ruined... nah."

"Fair enough." Kyera smiled at her response and had some more of her whiskey. Dusty had some of her hot chocolate, loving how it tasted warm and sweet. Outside a few snowflakes began to descend on the city, dancing around in the bitter wind. Dusty watched them through the window, mesmerized by their dance. "Do you ever miss home?" Kyera asked her as she watched the snow.

"Sometimes," she admitted. But as she said the words, she knew she didn't miss home all that much. She missed the idea of home, or rather the memory of what had been. She missed the old home her family used to live in, nestled in a quiet street with great big trees lining the backyard. She missed Christmases there, when her father would always bring home two fir trees, insisting that he couldn't pick between them. Two trees meant that both Dusty and Dust could decorate their own way, and ultimately, when their trees were complete, they'd ask their father to judge a winner, but he always insisted that he couldn't pick between them, that they were both so wonderful. Dusty missed that life.

She didn't miss the trailer, not really. It had never felt like home. Living there felt like some cruel joke where she was constantly waiting for the punch line, for someone to knock on the thin front door and explain that actually their old life was still waiting for them, that they didn't have to stay there. "I'm going back home for Christmas," Dusty informed Kyera. The thought of going back to West filled her with trepidation, but she knew that she couldn't keep running from her past.

"That will be nice." Kyera smiled.

"You'll be in Boston?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I was so eager to get away from home when I went to Princeton. Keen to make a fresh start and distance myself from all my problems. But my plans backfired, as all my problems just followed me there."

"Running always seems easier, but in the long term it's better to confront things head on," Dusty commented sagely.

"You sound like my therapist." Kyera smirked.

"He sounds wise."

"It's a woman."

"Makes sense if they're smart," Dusty quipped, sticking her tongue out.

"I know ice skating didn't pan out," Kyera said after draining the last of her drink. "But if the snow picks up, we could do snow angels and make snowmen? That's really more my sort of holiday activity speed."

"I didn't have you pegged for a snow angels kind of girl?" Dusty laughed.

"Well, mine are more snow devils, but that doesn't sound nearly as appealing." Kyera smiled, that familiar mischievous smile that Dusty used to dream about.

"There's a darkness in you, Kyera, but I like it," Dusty told her.

"Thanks, I wish I could learn to like it." Kyera shrugged.

"You will." Dusty smiled. "And even if you don't, you'll find someone who likes it enough for both of you."

"That's it. There's been too much soft talk. We need to thrash it out with a snowball fight," Kyera declared, pulling on her coat.

"Game on, Aroura," Dusty cried eagerly, also getting up.

"Game on."