Head Over Wheels

1- *ULISSES*

I checked Janaina's text again.

"We need to talk. It is important. Come to Antares tomorrow at 2pm."

Well, here I am.

Last time I set foot in Antares, I was walking on both feet. Granted, I needed crutches, and one of my feet was bandaged and completely useless, but they were here, I thought, as I made my way through the cobblestone path at Instituto Villa Lobos, the private K12 school that hosted Antares Skating School, and, alone, tried to make it down the stairs that led to the gymnasium where it was located.

"So much for a new life" I muttered. At least now I didn't have crutches anymore. So, one of my legs wasn't really made of flesh. But according to my father, it was the best robotic prosthetic leg, as expensive and state-of-the-art as they come. One of the benefits of being a legacy figure skater, son of a legendary figure skater. You see, my old man had called in a few favors and persuaded a few sponsors. Only the best for the prince. Kind of like gifts from divorced parents, only way more expensive. The divorced parents, the guilt, and strings attached, were a bonus.

Thanks to my early Christmas present, I didn't have to raise my hip as I was walking. My gait was a little more natural, most of the time I could even try skating, if I took it slow. Glaciar slow. If I trained too hard, my punishment was forced rest, painkillers and ointments for all the blisters that would break out.

Still, it took some getting used to, and I found myself wishing I'd brought at least one of my crutches. My new bionic leg was a bit heavier too, judging by the time it took me to walk down those steps, holding on to the handrail for dear life.

The stairway that led to the skating school was particularly challenging. Steep, constantly busy with children and teenagers walking and running up and down, running over any people on their way. If not that, they'd sit down on the bottom, chatting, oblivious to passersby or leaning against them as they made out. Been there, done that, I thought, bitterly. Look at me now, the grumpy 17-year-old grouch angrily shaking his proverbial cane at kids, shouting at them to stop stepping on his grass and to slow down. If only I'd brought my own.

Before I had even finished my mental rant, I lost my footing. With a quick move, I put my weight on the handrail, to keep from falling, face first, on the concrete steps. I still fell on my knees, on the brand new shiny prosthetic leg. I struggled to get up, trying to think of the worst possible cussword to yell at them, when I saw the back of the person who'd literally run me over. However, before I could even open my mouth, the person climbed back up as fast as before.

"I'm so, so sorry. I'm such a klutz! Are you ok?" a tremulous voice asked. The head belonging to it was down, looking for injuries on me. It also had jet black hair, tied in a French braid.

"I'm okay. I'm used to it by now", I avoided her touch and looked at my leg. I tried to pull the hem of my pants down, so she wouldn't notice the bionic leg.

When the girl lifted her head to look at me, she brushed back a stray lock of her hair.

"Are you sure? Do you need any help? You can lean on me if you want", she insisted.

If I couldn't make out her voice, she same could not be said about her piecing blue eyes. I'd recognize that penetrating gaze anywhere. They belonged to my former best friend's younger cousin. It had been a couple years since I last saw her, and now her hair had a few blue highlights. At another glance, her hair wasn't the only different thing about her. The girl next to me looked like a punk rocker, wore dark make-up on her eyes and had multiple earrings on both ears. I recovered my dignity, more amused than embarrassed, and said:

"It's ok... Estrela."

Her heavily smokey eyelined eyes were confused and her eyebrows furrowed at this. Her voice was louder at once.