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the bench, I was sure.
    Theon gazed out over the icy lake with a striking degree of hatred in his gaze. But when he turned to peer down at me, the anger softened. “Show me, then.”
    Grinning, I laced my fingers through his and we clattered toward the ice. “Do you want to just walk around for a little while first?” I asked him. “Sometimes it’s hard for people to balance on skates. Takes some getting used”—Theon stepped onto the ice of Goose Pond and pushed forward in one flawless motion—“to.” Of course he’s a natural. He looped back and returned to me, even braking perfectly.
    “I think I’ll be all right,” he said, extending his hand to take mine. At this, I couldn’t help but smile.
    We swept out onto the lake together, one of the few couples partaking in the romantic wintery tradition, and performed several laps hand in hand. As we increased our speed, I began to feel weightless… unfettered… and dizzy with glee. Piece by piece, I abandoned my worries, my anxiety, and just let us fly together over the ice, the blustery wind chafing our cheeks, pulses singing down into our fingers and toes.
    “Oh my God, Nell! Nell!” a distant voice called me from my bliss.
    I almost didn’t want to find its source. Throaty, with just a hint of nasally. Strong and female. Augh.
    “Penelope O’Hara!” the voice called again. I could tell that she had cupped her mouth with her gloved hands that time. We were looping around the lake and would be face to face with her shortly.
    Oh, never mind. She was coming to see us regardless of the lack of a welcoming gesture.
    Michelle Ballinger, my former sort-of-but-not-really best friend from the age of thirteen, was approaching with a big, toothy grin and her sparkling eyes fixed on Theon.

Chapter 15: Nell
    “ O h , my God! Nell! I had no idea you were back in town!” Michelle advanced along the ice. Her hourglass figure was wrapped in shiny, black thermal leggings and a skin-tight white turtleneck. She wore a down vest which did nothing to hide her breasts. Her makeup, although heavy, was also artful. A rosy dust arched her cheekbones and dark red, almost brown lipstick pouted her lips. Her dark curls were loose and tousled, always giving the impression of having just rolled out of bed. Not alone, either. “Why didn’t you call me?” Michelle asked, braking perfectly on the ice. She finally tore her eyes from Theon to blink at me.
    “I lost my phone,” I explained, my voice a blend of forced friendliness and patience. “How’s it been going?” I could already see the future in her gleaming eyes. Our adolescence had been playing out this way since Michelle had hit puberty. I’d meet somebody and she’d sweep in with her dramatic features and her nubile frame and just snap them up like sales items from a bin. They usually never even realized I might have liked them for myself, and neither did Michelle. It was likely only from her lack of interest that Andrew hadn’t hooked up with her much sooner; she had a thing for exotic, dangerous types, and Andrew Hardy was anything but.
    “Well, no harm, no foul. It’s all better now,” Michelle said, her gaze raking over Theon. “What did you bring me from DC?”
    “Some airport perfume,” I answered shortly. “But it’s at home. This is Theon. He’s from Iphras.”
    “I love Iphras,” Michelle chimed, not missing a beat. “It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Theon. My name is Michelle Ballinger, of the Boston Ballingers.” Augh. Such a wannabe princess. I didn’t know at what point Michelle’s routine had become obnoxious to me. In the past two years, either I’d matured a lot, or Michelle had changed. Michelle draped her hand into the air to be taken by Theon, and he complied with a brisk air-kiss to her knuckles. She tittered. “Care to take a break with me?” Michelle asked, her eyes back to me. “We could walk over to Carmella’s for some cocoa and catch up. Theon could come