Mustang Boy

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Maybe—just maybe—if you go to Spotify and type in Try For Me, you'll find the playlist for this story. It has the same cover by the way.

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The roller rink is packed like it is every weekend, full of high school students who are just starting their evening. I'm not sure how Impa convinced me to do this tonight. I could be in bed reading.

Impa holds my hand and drags me to the counter to rent our skates. "Hey Beedle," she says to the boy working the counter. He has a long face covered in freckles with an unnaturally red nose.

"Impa!" he startles. "It's like you're following me!"

"It's not my fault you have a new job everyday." That sounds exhausting. "Anyway, I need a size nine and a seven, please and thank you." She drops a few quarters in his open hand for the fee.

He collects the correct sizes and places the worn out brown skates on the counter. "Here you go. Have fun!"

"Thanks," I say, collecting my pair. I'm not a very good skater and I doubt I'm going to have as much fun as Impa. If anything, I'll end up on the floor and she'll have to save me.

We find an empty bench to abandon the comfort of flat shoes and lace up the skates. Impa has hers laced and ready in what feels like seconds while I struggle to tighten mine.

"I'm going to be married with five kids by the time you finish," Impa teases, standing up with ease and rolling around in the small area in front of me.

"Five kids is ambitious."

"I thrive off ambition."

"That you do." I finish tying my second skate and hold my hands out for her to take. There's no way I'm attempting to stand on my own; not with so many people from school here. And I'd like to keep my knees as bruise free as possible.

I slide forward the second she pulls me up and I shuffle my feet in place before finding a wobbly balance. Impa will get her practice dealing with clingy children tonight seeing as I won't be letting go of her hand.

"Oh you dainty princess," Impa says when I hold onto her for dear life after losing my fragile balance for a moment. She's the only thing keeping my body from hitting the floor.

"Hush!"

She glides while I shuffle next to her as we make our way to the hardwood floor of the rink. I'm going to make a fool of myself trying to skate alongside everyone else who knows what they're doing. Next time, we're staying home and painting our toes.

"Zel!" Looks like my rude comment about his hair wasn't enough to deter him. "I can skate with you if you want," he says, matching our pace.

"I'd rather stick with Impa." Our fingers are laced together and I refuse to let go. If I go down, she's coming with me.

"Don't you have other girls to bother?" Impa says. "We were trying to enjoy a boy free night."

"None of them are as pretty as Zel." I shoot him a glare. He's lucky I'm on skates.

"Well beat it! I think you can wait until Monday to bother her again!" I'd rather he not bother me at all but it's better than nothing.

"But—"

"I'll shave you bald," she warns and I choke on a giggle. He'd die if he lost his hair.

"Alright I'll go!" He skates ahead, going faster than I would ever dream of going.

I finally let out the laugh I'd been holding in and Impa follows suit. "You can't do that more often?"

"Sometimes it's entertaining to watch what you do after enough harassment." She shrugs, another laugh threatening to show itself. "Did you see the fear in his eyes?" she bursts, setting me off again.

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