Excerpt: Thrill Junkies

My toe-pick crunches ice, making a sound that reminds me of Velcro.

The sensation travels miles through my momentum-addled brain.

“No, this isn’t happening.” My brain tells the sensation. “We always fall.”

“You idiot!” Muscle memory cries. “Get out of my way.”

Swinging my left leg up and back with my toe pointing out to the side, I bend my right knee low to absorb the force of the landing. As if they are guided there by magnetic fields, my left arm stretches toward eleven o’clock and my right toward three.

By the time my brain is back in the driver’s seat, I can already see clearly and the ringing in my ears has stopped. Frozen snot runs ribbons from my nose and my top has ridden up so that my belly button wishes the world a Happy Christmas.

But I—muscles, brain and heart beating like machine gunfire—glide backwards at a gentle angle. My landing is square.

“It’s not Christmas.” My brain hisses, yanking my yoga tank down and wiping my nose on the back of my gloved hand. It automatically reminds me to throw this pair of gloves in the wash tonight.

Then my brain and mouth finally connect.

“Eeyaahaaa! Omigod! Omigod! Omigod!”

I lower my foot, standing shock still. The slight mist off the rink floor swirls promises around me like phantasmagorical creatures.

Oh, what we have done and what we will do, I hear them sing because I happen to be crazy enough to hear invisible ice spirits sing to me.

My frozen wonderland.

Half a second later, Jonas smacks into me from the side in a crude imitation of a hockey check. Crude only because it has so much more finesse. Reflex dictates that I smack him back even though he is only ten.

“Adelaide. What. Did you. Do?” he starts. “Was that your double sal? Did you just land Your Double Sal? That was, like, the highest jump I’ve ever seen you do.”

“Yeah. My double sal. Oh my God.” My voice trails off into that phantasmagorical mist. “It felt like I just fell out of the sky.”

A murderous smile crosses the little boy’s face. His eyes narrow a split second before he speaks.

“Do it again.”