Drew hit the ice and flew.
The moment his skates touched down, his new body came alive. It wasn’t like before—where skating had been a clumsy struggle and every backward push felt forced. No, this was different. This was instinct.
He leaned into the first curve, and speed answered. Wind kissed his cheeks. Hair streamed past his eyes. His limbs moved like they had minds of their own—agile, confident, and precise. He wasn’t just skating.
He was carving.
Stress, fear, confusion—it all burned away as the rink blurred underfoot. He grinned, giddy. This was what this body was made for. A high-performance machine that ran on joy and momentum. He spun once, twice—nearly fell—but caught himself laughing. Real laughter. Not nervous or awkward. It felt right.
And then he noticed Kate wobbling behind him, her arms flailing awkwardly as she tried to stay upright in her too-big teenage boy body.
Drew giggled. He couldn’t help it. “Need training wheels?” he called, voice ringing out like a silver bell.
“Oh shut up!” Kate shouted back, grumbling as she turned stiffly, skating in cautious half-circles.
Drew laughed harder, circling her again and again, a blur of motion as he looped around her twelve times in the space it took her to do one wobbly lap. “C’mon, stretch those new legs!”
Kate eventually gave up and skated to the edge, unstrapping her boots with a scowl. “This body is useless on ice,” she muttered, pulling off the skates. “Probably only ever used ‘em at a birthday party or something.”
Drew coasted over, still glowing from the inside out, cheeks flushed with cold and adrenaline. He stopped beside her in a clean arc, his little chest rising and falling fast. “I think I could go for hours,” he breathed, nearly bouncing on his blades.
“You look like it,” Kate said, her teen-boy voice oddly gentle now. She nodded to the side. “Hey—come here. Found something.”
She gestured toward a wall-mounted flatscreen. The TV was old, used mostly by the club teams for playback. A USB drive stuck out from the side.
“Watch.”
Onscreen, the real Tommy skated under lights. Same costume. Same hair. A blur of motion and elegance. He leapt—once, twice—three times in a single air rotation and landed with liquid grace.
Kate turned toward Drew. “You have to try that. I wanna see if the muscle memory is in there.”
Drew swallowed. “I... I mean, I don’t know how to do that.”
Kate shrugged. “You didn’t know how to do any of this an hour ago. Just try.”
Drew narrowed his eyes at the screen, studied the feet. The angles. The timing.
Then he pushed off.
He skated hard. Built speed. Set the angle. Jumped—
One spin. Land.
Kate gasped. “Whoa.”
Drew blinked. That had felt... easy. Like his legs knew how to catch themselves.
“Try two!” Kate urged.
He tried again.
Two spins. A little wobble. Still landed.
“Dude!” Kate laughed. “You are Tommy right now!”
Drew didn’t care that she’d called him by the wrong name. Didn’t care that she was towering over him now, cheering like a proud coach-slash-boyfriend-slash-bestie.
He was too busy flying.
Three spins.
Perfect landing.
“YES!” he shouted, pumping both fists. “YES!”
But then—
“HEY!”
A voice boomed across the rink like a gunshot.
They both froze.
A man stormed out of the office—mid-50s, paunchy, red-faced, and holding a phone. Drew recognized him instantly.
The manager.
His boss.
“Who the hell are you kids?” he roared. “What are you doing in my building? Breaking in after hours—using the ice without paying? I’m calling the cops!”
“CRAP!” Kate shouted.
They ran.
Drew kicked off the skates at the edge of the rink and grabbed his boots—but remembered too late: he had no shoes. Just the skin-tight skating costume clinging to his small frame. Kate, still a tall boy in too-large jeans and unlaced sneakers, grabbed his hand as they sprinted down the corridor.
Behind them, the manager shouted. “Little punks! You’re paying for this ice time, you hear me?!”
They burst through the front doors into the cool, post-storm air. Puddles splashed underfoot as they ran. Around the corner of the building. Out of sight. Hearts pounding.
They stopped, finally, in the shadow of the maintenance shed.
Panting. Laughing.
Free.
Drew leaned against the wall, hair falling into his face, the costume clinging to his skin. “Oh my god,” he gasped. “That was insane.”
Kate wheezed beside him, grinning ear to ear. “We just got chased out of your workplace dressed like this. I can’t believe he didn’t recognize your voice.”
Drew froze.
His stomach dropped.
“Wait.”
Kate blinked. “What?”
“The medallion,” Drew said slowly. “I... I left it. It’s still in the girls’ locker room. Where we changed.”
Silence.
Their smiles dropped at the same time.
Kate muttered, “...well, crap.”
