Losing the Light [h.s.]

11

"Why isn't Matt helping you with this?" Anne asks Harry over breakfast. "You know I love Marlee, but maybe Matthew would have some tips for you."

"I've already tried calling him," Harry says. "He didn't pick up."

Matthew had ignored Harry's calls, probably thinking that he was a failure for messing up this bad. Harry was hurt by it at first, but by now he's somewhat relieved to have Matt off his back. Harry had always wanted to find a new coach, but his parents insisted that Matthew was the one. Harry could've made it with someone else, though. Matthew wasn't really a necessity.

And it's obvious now how little Harry needs Matthew, since he's skating--blindly--without any help from him. Harry feels sorry that he let him down, but Matthew should've at least thought of Harry doing something stupid like this.

He always seems to get too full of himself, and slip up right at the wrong time. Like in tenth grade when he thought he didn't need to study for the Math test and failed it, or when he decided he was going to eat an entire cake by himself and got sick the day before a big competition.

One time he was with his friends at a restaurant, trying to impress a girl--before Marlee came along, of course--and he wanted to eat a piece of pizza straight out of the oven. It was so hot that the cheese stuck to the roof of his mouth and burned him. The next day the inside of his mouth was peeling, and it hurt when he ate anything for awhile.

-

"I'm not going to get cocky anymore," Harry says, leaning against the wall behind his bed.

She raises an eyebrow. "Alright. Good for you."

"Thanks," Harry says. "I think it's a good idea. Being blind has taught me to be thankful for the littler things."

"Harry," Marlee scoffs. "You've been blind for about four weeks. Don't get too dramatic on me, please."

"I'm serious," he insists. "I can't even remember the exact color of my bedroom--" Harry runs his hand over the wall "--is it purple?"

"Harry, your room is green," Marlee rolls her eyes.

"That was supposed to be a joke," Harry mumbles. He waits a moment, wondering if now would be a time to talk. Normally he'd be able to see it in her expression, but now he can't. Harry decides to take a chance. "Let's be serious."

Marlee pauses. "Be serious about what?"

"I'd like to be able to skate again," Harry says plainly. An idea comes to his mind, "Have you ever thought maybe it would be easier to do with a partner?"

"Like, someone to guide you," Marlee says in agreement. "We can do that."

Harry hops into Marlee's car, and they head over to the rink again. Marlee heads onto the ice with Harry, trying to remember what similarities ballroom dancing has with ice dancing.

Harry takes Marlee's hands in his, and he nods at her to make the first move. "I don't know what to do," Marlee laughs. "We've never done a lot of partner skating."

"Just go for it," Harry says. "We're still being productive as long as you do something."

Marlee does something. She takes a step back, tugging Harry toward her so he does the same. They skate in a big circle, and he puts his hand up to twirl her around. They spend nearly two hours working out moves and even coming up with a routine that isn't half bad.

"We should do this more," Harry says. "We're a really good team."

Marlee laughs. "We've known that for quite awhile, haven't we?"