"And that's it for tonight," Nathan says into the microphone after the last person finishes their reading. "Thanks for coming by, and I hope to hear more pieces next week. See you guys then."

The audience claps and cheers as Nathan steps out of the spotlights. As he shuts off the lights and sound system, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I slip outside, letting out a shuddering breath at how sharp the cold night air feels like it's digging its nails into me through my layers.

My hand shakes as I see Hannah's name flash on my screen. I take a deep breath before answering. "Hello?"

"Are you on your way home?" she asks. "It's past eight."

"Oh..." I shove my free hand into my pocket, kicking at the ground. "Um... I don't think I'm heading home yet." I pause. "Unless Mom and Dad want me to."

Hannah hesitates. "They haven't said anything, but don't you think this is just a little late to be out? The sun isn't even up anymore."

I shrug like she can see me. "I know, but we were just about to go ice skating."

A pause. Then, "Okay. If you wanna do that, go for it. When do you think you'll be done?"

"Not sure. But I'll text you when I have an idea. Or Mom or Dad."

It feels like Hannah holds back a sigh, but her voice is still lighthearted with that concerned undertone that's been there for the past year. "Okay. Be safe."

"I will. See you later."

I hang up, letting out a breath. I watch it condense in the cold night air before it disappears. I vaguely hear the bell above the door going off, but I don't turn until I hear my name. Nathan and Clara glance at each other before giving me worried looks.

"Everything okay?" Nathan asks. "Do you need to head home?"

I shake my head, tucking my phone away. "No. It was just my sister checking in. We can go ice skating now if you guys aren't too tired."

Clara laughs, throwing an arm around my shoulder, dragging me with her as she walks down the sidewalk. "I'm never too tired to see Nathan hurt himself."

I hear Nathan grumble behind me, "Let's just get this over with."

I hear keys jangle and then a car beep. My steps falter at the sound, and I would've fallen if Clara's arm wasn't around me. She gives me a questioning look. I return it with a smile and let her have the passenger seat, slipping into the backseat. I sit directly behind her. I watch the scenery pass by while I listen to them argue over navigation and other random things. When they try to include me in the argument, I deflect. In a weird sort of way, listening to them fight gives me a sense of warmth. It's a nice distraction from my thoughts no matter how much it reminds me of myself and Morgan.

But the moment we're walking into the closest ice skating rink, all I can think about is getting lost in the moment. Teaching Nathan how to ice skate. Maybe attempting a triple axel without someone making fun of me for once.

Nathan and I pay for our rental skates, but Clara forgoes skating, saying she'd rather just watch Nathan try.

"Are you sure?" I ask, sitting on a bench close to one of the entrances to the ice rink. I look at her past Nathan as I slip my shoes off.

"I'm sure." She crosses her legs and clasps her hands against her knee. "It's more fun to sit back and watch other people fall. And by 'other people,' I mean Nathan."

Nathan side-eyes her as he tries to shove on his skates. "We've been friends since third grade, right?"

Clara nods once with a jerk of her chin. "Yeah. That's why you shouldn't feel so insulted anymore."

Nathan rolls his eyes before focusing on tying up his skates. Out of habit, I end up tying the skates for him. I should probably make him learn how to do it himself, but it's instinct since I would always lose in rock-paper-scissor matches with Morgan to see who would help Kate tie her skates when she was starting to learn.

"Thanks," he says.

"No problem." I help Nathan to his feet. "You ready?"

He offers me a grim smile. "Not really."

Clara smirks at the uncertainty in his voice. "Have fun!"

I press my lips into a thin line, but a giggle still escapes me. Nathan gives me an exasperated look, so I cough to try and cover it up, offering him a smile. "You'll be fine. And I'm sure you'll have fun." I step onto the ice first. Nathan keeps one hand on the wall and uses the other to grasp my arm. "This is kind of the same thing as riding a bike: if you fall down, you get back up and try again."

He nods, staring at the ground. "Makes sense, but it's not what I want to hear."

I pat his arm. "You'll be fine."

I let Nathan hold onto my arm while we skate—or shuffle. It takes us at least ten minutes to reach the halfway point of the rink. As far as first times go, this actually isn't too bad. I was probably slower my first time skating. If I wasn't slow, I was falling down all the time, trying to prove to Morgan I can go faster than he can.

"How are you doing?" I ask as a little kid skates past us.

"I'm doing better than I thought I would," Nathan chokes out.

"It's better if you relax, and—you know—" I lift my hand up as I inhale and let it drop with a flourish as I exhale "—breathe."

Nathan side-eyes me. "Thanks. I should've thought of that."

The corner of my mouth turns up. There are definitely lots of sides to Nathan, and each one is more interesting than the last. "You're welcome."

We continue to skate—or shuffle—in silence. The most I have to do is stay upright, give Nathan something to hold onto, give him encouraging smiles, and give the occasional advice on foot placements and movements. We eventually near our starting point, and Clara sits up when we get closer.

"Finally," she groans, rubbing her eyes. "I was starting to think you would never finish."

Nathan slumps down on the bench with a sigh, his entire body relaxing. "Was it good entertainment?"

Clara shrugs. "It was at first, but then it got boring and sad to see you struggle so much. I thought you would at least fall. Ten times minimum."

He gestures to me. "Then, why didn't you ask Mona to push me over?"

Clara scoffs. "Do you really think she would do something like that?"

"That's actually how I learned to skate," I say.

If Morgan and I didn't fall on accident trying to beat each other in races, we would push each other over when things got too boring.

Nathan gives me a choked laugh, his eyes widening. "You won't... do that to me, right?"

Do I still give off that impression? And am I really still that mean? "I won't." Nathan exhales, pulling his shoes on. His skates are abandoned next to him. Perfect change of subject. "Don't you want to try one more round?"

He points at me. "We never actually specified how long I would have to try. But I did, so now you have to write a poem."

That's technically the deal, but... "Let me skate a few rounds first." I need to get some energy out before I sit down and write that poem. I know I'll need it.

The second Nathan and Clara nod, I take off. I don't want to be mean, but it feels so nice going faster than Nathan's speed. As always, it's just me and the expanse of ice. I attempt tricks and spins, smiling every time I stick the landing. I'm tempted to try a triple axel, but I know I'll definitely fall. And when I fall, Morgan won't be there to laugh and help me back on my feet. I don't know if I can handle knowing for sure that'll never happen again.

Suddenly, the high leaves me, and everything around me seems to dim. The bright lights above me suddenly seem clouded and the voices around me sound muffled. I let out a shaky breath as I skate back to Nathan and Clara, glancing around the rink like I'll be able to find my high again. But at least I know I won't have unnecessary energy writing a poem. So hopefully that means I won't say anything I'm not supposed to.

"Ready?" Clara asks, glancing up from her phone.

I nod, sitting between Nathan and Clara on the bench. "Yeah, sorry that took so long."

She furrows her eyebrows. "It took less time for you to make ten rounds and give a figure skating show than for Nathan to make one round."

That's true, but I don't have it in me to make fun of Nathan. I barely know him. So instead of adding on to Clara, I ask Nathan, "You'll try again later, right?"

Nathan's eyes widen, and he cringes. "When I forget how horrible this experience was."

I laugh. He blinks before giving me a contemplative look, those silver eyes taking me in. I tuck my hair behind my ear and focus on putting my shoes on. No matter how much I focus on lacing up my shoes, I can't get that look out of my mind. I don't think anyone ever really looked at me like that before. At least not in a while. It makes me want to put my skates back on and go another few rounds.

Once I'm ready, we return our skates and leave. The sun is completely down at this point, and the moon and stars are on full display. Nathan pauses, staring up at the night sky, that contemplative expression on his face again. I think Nathan is always contemplative, but I like to think this means he finds me just as captivating as the night sky if he's pausing to stare at it like he paused to take me in earlier. If Nathan, who is always lost in thought, can take a moment to think about me, maybe other people find me worth thinking about, too.

Nathan inhales and shakes himself from his thoughts. He turns to me. "Do you need to go home?"

I pull out my phone. No texts or calls. "I don't think so. I can write that poem now if you guys aren't too tired."

Nathan and Clara wave me off, ushering me back towards the car. I sit in the back again, texting Hannah that I might be another hour or two. She responds almost instantly, telling me to be careful and to try and come back sooner if I can.

By the time I tuck my phone away, Nathan is parking in front of Poems and Tales. When we walk back inside, I'm a little surprised at how quiet the place is, especially considering how many people were here just an hour or so ago. Now only one or two people are scattered throughout the room.

Nathan excuses himself and goes to get a journal, disappearing into the back room. When he's gone, Clara turns to me as we walk towards the most secluded corner of the room. "You know you don't need to write this poem, right? We can just hang out. Nathan will understand."

I shrug, pulling a chair out. "He skated, so it's only fair if I write the poem."

She stares at me, giving me a look that's equal parts respect and judgment. "I guess."

Nathan comes back and takes a seat directly across from me. Clara rests her head on the table, mumbling something about waking her up when we do something more exciting. Nathan lightly hits the back of her head with his journal before setting it on the table. He doesn't slide it over to me right away like I expect him to, though.

"You can jump right in if you want to," he says, "but sometimes I think it's better to take it slow and write down some ideas first." I guess that makes sense. I indicate for him to go on. Nathan opens the journal to a blank page and picks up a pen. "What's an emotion you've been feeling lately?" I know exactly what my answer is, but I can't share it with Nathan and Clara... can I? They notice my hesitation. Clara props her head up to look at me, and Nathan says, "It makes the poem more powerful if you're being honest with yourself."

I swallow, tightly clasping my hands in my lap. "If I have to be honest..." Where am I going with this? Not the real answer, that's for sure. I settle with, "Loneliness." It's a close second.

Nathan's eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't comment. He writes my answer down before glancing at me again. "And when you think of loneliness, what do you associate it with? It can be an object, an idea..."

"A room." Again: not the first thing that comes to mind, but it's close enough.

"Describe the room."

I shrug, looking down at the table. "I don't know... it feels empty. There are spaces I can't fill."

I feel both Nathan's and Clara's eyes on me. Clara opens her mouth, but she jolts before she can say anything. She turns to glare at Nathan. He glares back. Clara closes her mouth in the end and puts her head down on the table again. Even though she's not looking, Nathan gives her one last glare before he scribbles down what I said. He asks me a few more questions, and I try to avoid all the real answers as much as I can.

He finally slides the journal and pen over to me. I let out a breath, feeling the knot in my chest loosen. I place my hand on the journal, but Nathan doesn't let go. I meet his eyes, and I have to fight the urge to look away. But I have a feeling Nathan knows that I'm not comfortable because his expression softens.

"Is that all?" he asks.

I swallow. "Yeah. That's all."

He nods. "Even if it is, you can always write more than you want to say aloud."

He sits back, letting me take the journal. I stare down at the page, forcing myself to pick up the pen and write. There are a lot of unceremonious pauses where I stop writing altogether and glance around the room. Clara is asleep by the third time, but I prefer that over Nathan not taking his eyes off me once. Does he realize this only makes me more nervous? If I have to write about something I've tried not to think about for almost a year, I'd rather not have people watching me while I do it.

I manage to finish eventually. The moment I set the pen down, Nathan takes the journal from me, and I have to stop myself from snatching it back. I clasp my hands in my lap, digging my nails into my skin. I watch his eyes move back and forth across the page. His expression is mostly controlled except for a few scowls and confused looks he couldn't hide. Even then, I probably wouldn't have seen them if I hadn't been looking.

"It's not bad," Nathan says, setting the journal on the table. Clara lifts her head at the small disruption. She pulls the journal towards her and starts reading as Nathan continues. "But I feel like you're not saying everything you want to say."

"He's not wrong," Clara agrees. "It doesn't feel finished."

Nathan nods in agreement. "And like I said, the reader interprets the poem in any way they want to. How I see it can be completely different from what you see, so there's no need to hold back."

Maybe. But wanting to say something is easier than actually saying it. "I'll think it over."

Clara yawns, stretching her arms out above her head. "At least you're agreeing to try again."

"I agreed to skate again," Nathan murmurs. Clara waves him off and puts her head down on the table again. Nathan smiles, rolling his eyes before turning to me. "You're heading home, then?"

"Yeah," I breathe, looking down at my hands. "My parents are probably worried by now." And I don't know if I can handle being scrutinized anymore.

"You need a ride," Nathan says.

I shake my head, standing. "No. It's fine—"

"That wasn't a question." Nathan stands, too, gathering the pen and journal. "I'm not letting you walk home this late."

He doesn't wait for me to respond. He takes the journal and walks through the back door. Great.

Clara turns her head to face me, but she keeps her head on her crossed arms. "You can just leave. He won't know until he comes back."

I slowly lower myself back into the seat, wrapping my arms around myself. "I think that would just worry him and make him drive after me."

Clara smirks. "Isn't that the fun of it?" Is it...? I guess my expression and silence answer for me because she sighs, lightly scuffing my boots with hers. "Lighten up. If Nathan drives after you, it just shows how much he cares."

I tighten my arms around myself like that will keep my thoughts from showing. I swallow, hoping that'll flush the feeling away even more. "Yeah... that would show he cares, wouldn't it...?"

Clara sits up, leaning towards me. Her drowsy slur is gone, and the color of her eyes sharpens. She puts her hand on my arm. "Are you okay?"

Nathan comes back, saving me from having to respond. "Ready to go?"

I try not to spring up from the table. "Yeah."

I can't leave soon enough. Clara stares at me, and I try my best to give her a smile. A crease forms between her eyebrows, but I'm already telling her good night and following Nathan outside to his car. I stare at it for a second, wondering if it's better to get in the car with Nathan or face Clara's questioning. But I know it'll look weird if I just stand here, so I get in the passenger seat when Nathan is in front of the steering wheel.

But once I'm actually inside the car, I feel a weight settle on my chest. It doesn't help that I feel Nathan's eyes on me. And I have a feeling Clara is watching through the window, too. I count my breaths and focus on a particularly bright star in the sky.

"You don't have to do this," I blurt right as Nathan asks, "So which way's your house?"

We glance at each other, sitting in silence, waiting for the other to say something else. My hand keeps darting for the door handle before I jerk it back to my chest. Nathan doesn't say anything, giving me the choice. And it actually feels like a choice, too. No pressure to do one thing or another. Maybe I enjoy Nathan's company more than I think or I don't want to walk home in the cold as much as I say I do, but either way, I end up grabbing the seat belt instead.

"Go straight and take a left after three blocks," I say.

Nathan does as I say without another word. In between each direction, he keeps a conversation going. "We don't go to the same school, do we?"

I shrug. "I'm not sure." I glance at him. "Blackwater?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Yeah. Weird. I would think I would've run into you at some point." His eyes flicker to me. "Junior?"

I shake my head. "Sophomore. Are you a junior?"

He nods. "So is Clara." He glances at me. "I still think I should've noticed you sooner. There's hardly anyone with red hair like yours." I instinctively reach up to rub the tips of my hair between my fingers. Nathan laughs. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you self-conscious."

I shake my head, resting my hands in my lap again. "You didn't. It's okay. But you probably haven't seen me around that often since I just moved here."

He nods. "That makes sense." Nathan glances at me, the corners of his mouth turning down. It feels like he's going to apologize again, but instead, he asks, "Are you okay? Are you cold?"

I blink. "What?"

"Your hands."

I glance down. My hands are shaking. "Oh..." I hold them up to the vents in hopes they'll stop. Not that it matters since we're already on my street. "I'm fine. And it's that house." It's the only one with the porch light on like it's meant to call out to me.

Nathan parks in front of the walkway. "Looks like your parents are waiting for you."

Probably not. It's probably Hannah. "Apparently." I pull my hands back from the vent. "Thanks for the ride. You really didn't have to drive me."

"Maybe, but I wanted to." Somehow I don't doubt that. Not when his eyes are glinting with warmth and kindness. And not when he shuts off the engine and says, "Let me walk you to the door."

"Oh, you don't have to."

He shrugs, already opening the door. "I want to." I get out with him, inhaling as much of the cold air as I can. Nathan and I walk up to the door together. He waits for me to get my keys out before offering me a smile. "See you later? If not during break, then definitely at school?" His eyes flicker to my hair, and he smiles. "I'll look out for you from now on."

I laugh softly. "Sounds good. I'll see you later. Have a good night."

I step inside and shut the front door with a soft click, but I stay where I am until I hear the car pull away. Even then, I stay facing the door, shutting my eyes. I try to listen for any signs of Nathan like he might actually still be out there, but instead, I hear footsteps behind me.

I quickly lock the front door and turn around, coming face-to-face with Hannah. I adjust my jacket. "Hey. You didn't have to wait up for me."

She shrugs. "Someone had to make sure you got home." Yeah. That makes sense... "How was your night?"

"Really..." Chaotic. Reminiscent of the past. An emotional rollercoaster. "...fun. But I'll try not to stay out too late again."

Hannah nods. "Good." She nods towards the stairs. "Maybe you should get to bed."

I nod and wordlessly walk around her and up the stairs. I gently shut my bedroom door behind me and sit on the floor by my bed, leaning back against the mattress. The light seeping in from under the door goes out. I hear Hannah walk past my room and her bedroom door close. When the house goes quiet, I shut my eyes. In the darkness, I'm reminded of how empty my bedroom feels for the first time in months.