Speechless(78)

                “We’ll take it slow,” Sam says. “Hold my hands.”

                I hesitate, every instinct screaming at me not to let go of the                     railing since it’s the one thing keeping me up, but I slowly convince myself to                     extend one hand to take his and then the other. I’m gripping his hands so hard                     it should be painful, but if it is, Sam’s face doesn’t show it.

                “All right, now I’m going to move backward, and you’re going to                     follow me. Okay?”

                He doesn’t wait for an answer before he begins to glide                     backward. My body leans forward to keep hold of his hands, my legs refusing to                     move until they have no choice. As soon as I attempt to skate toward Sam, I                     immediately trip and tumble face-first onto the ice in the most comically                     ungraceful manner possible, an embarrassing, crazy flail of arms and legs,                     landing hard on my elbows. It hurts, but not nearly as much as my pride does at                     the moment.

                “Yikes.” Sam skids to a stop in front of me, trying not to                     laugh but only half succeeding. “Teaching you to skate may be more difficult                     than I thought.”

                I’m too busy pulling myself onto my knees and rubbing my elbows                     to glare at him properly. I never should’ve agreed to this. All I’m doing is                     making an idiot out of myself. Hasn’t my dignity taken enough of a blow these                     days without me contributing to it of my own volition?

                Upon seeing my sulky expression, Sam gives up all pretense of                     containing his laughter. “Aw, come on, you’re okay,” he says. He extends an open                     hand down to me. “Get up and try again.”

                After a moment’s more of moping, I take his hand, letting him                     assist me to my feet. This time he goes more slowly, helping me inch along the                     ice. After a little while I start to get the hang of it—it’s like Asha said, one                     foot and then the other.

                “There you go!” Sam says, his voice a little more enthusiastic                     than what is warranted. “You’re getting it!”

                I start to gain a little confidence, and with it speed, pushing                     off the ice with a little more gusto. Just as I think I’ve figured it out,                     however, I lose my balance and stumble forward into Sam, toppling us both to the                     ice in a tangle of limbs. I land right on top of his chest, so when he laughs, I                     feel it reverberating through me, and I can’t help but laugh, too. Sam’s eyes                     widen like he’s startled by the sound. Our faces are so close together, and                     looking at him looking at me, I’m suddenly, painfully aware of the rush job I                     did on my makeup this morning. I must look like such a mess.