𝐈𝐍𝐊 - JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER

10

     Entering the roller rink is like entering another world of neon lights and blaring music, but the stench of sneakers and sweat is what hits you initially. It's an old, nostalgic smell that brings back memories of endless fun and small, sticky children. Jamie's eyes are big and bright as he tries to take everything in.

     Your own eyes are adjusting to the colorful lights that flash around the room. A disco ball hangs in the center of the rink, spinning as it decorates the wooden floor with sparkles of light. People whiz around the rink in dance lines and parties, some straggle behind, holding their hands out as they try awkwardly not to trip over their wheels.

     "Let's go get our skates," Jamie says, tugging you by the hand over to the glass counter. It's the only thing that acts as a barrier between the large wall of skates and the rest of the skaters. The two of you exchange sizes with the clerk behind the counter, a short young woman who couldn't have been out of her teens, with jet black hair and more piercings than you could count.

     She slides the pairs in your direction, friendly eyes lingering on Jamie for just a beat too long. He shoots a wink in her direction. Your heart does an uneasy flip-flop.

     You clear your throat, gathering the roller skates in your hand. "Hey, ready to go?" you ask, the corners of your lips quirking upwards.

     "Yes." Jamie brings his eyes towards yours; they twinkle even in the dim light as he smiles. "Let's go."

     "Y/n!" Tom calls from a bench off to the side. Most of them were taken, filled with teens on rollerblades and adults ready to feel young again.

     When you two finally make your way over, Jamie offers his hand, "Tom."

     "Jamie," Tom takes it, but the handshake is a strained one. They didn't exactly know each other well, and Tom hadn't seemed to fall for Jamie's sociable demeanor. Not yet.

     But you can hardly pay attention to them as you sit down to put on your skates. After a few minutes of fumbling with the laces, you're all set to go. When you stand, Tom and Jamie are also laced up. They stand beside each other stiffly.

     "Would you guys loosen up a little?" you laugh.

     "Loose?" Jamie then claps his hands together, rubbing excitedly. "Oh, I'm loose. Looser than ever, love."

     Tom scoffs and shakes his head, a chuckle managing to escape his lips. "All right then, let's go."

     The rink is slippery when your wheels first hit the ground, but all it takes is a few moments to get used to it. You haven't skated in years, and you've forgotten how much you used to love it. There was nothing like soaring across the rink for as long and as fast as you could. It was the closest you'd ever get to flying.

     Jamie and Tom roll behind you. It'd been a while since Tom had last skated, but he was a fast learner and found his balance almost immediately. All those ballet classes of his paid off more than one would think.

     To your surprise, Jamie had a knack for skating as well. He doesn't show any fear of the rink, smiling at you with a peace sign when you meet his eyes. A smile finds your lips as you slow your pace, letting them catch up on either side of you.

     You survey Jamie up and down, admiring his simple flannel and jeans. How could he make something so simple so stylish? "Not bad," you tease, referring to his skills on the rink.

     "Better than you," he replies.

     "Oh, please."

     "Would you two stop flirting?" Tom jokes.