Michele drops down next to her on the bench, takes the skate off of the bench, and starts loosening the laces. She shouts over the music, “I just barged in. Can’t let you do something so stupid without seeing it for myself.”

Judy says, “You don’t have to help me.”

But Michele has already slipped the skate onto her foot. Michel hunches forward at an impossible angle from Judy’s perspective like she’s suspended somehow, and this makes both of them laugh. Michele keeps at her work, slaps the bench to indicate that she needs her other foot and skate. Judy lifts it up so that her two feet are in front of her, making it nearly impossible to sit up. She holds onto the back of the bench, still laughing, as Michele gets both skates securely on Judy’s feet. When she’s done, Michele starts laughing too. Judy drops her feet back down to the floor. She leans over to Michele, and says, “I never thought about this, how weird it would be. Maybe I’ll miss all this trouble somehow.”

Together they look at the kids circling. The aggressive beat of the music soaks into them like sunburn. Michele says, “It’ll all be over soon, you know. These kids will be out of us and then we can have real lives.”

Judy looks at Michele’s profile and feels sorry. They can never go back. She won’t go looking for Michele when she doesn’t come back to school. She won’t be a wolfmother like Michele predicted when she holds her daughter for the only time. She’ll release the baby into a nurse’s arms and she’ll keep them there after the baby is gone, still feeling her, but not for long. Instantly, after she lowers her arms, it will feel like a part of her life has been erased. Left behind is a clear and empty space. When technology allows, she’ll see Michele on a social networking site in pictures surrounded by her kids, always in rooms filled with too many things. Judy will think that she looks frumpy, older than her age, but she will smile in those photographs in a way that Judy never knew her to be capable of.

Judy pushes herself up off of the bench and loses her balance, but regains it after only sliding about an inch. She pushes away from Michele and glides shakily on the carpet, teetering, then lurches forward, saves herself from falling again and glides back over to Michele. Michele puts her hand on her front, looks up at Judy and says, “You don’t have to do this.”

Judy locks eyes with her friend for a moment then takes off. She moves with great effort but sloppy movement to a break in the wall guarding the rink. She gets into the rink and the smooth ground under her is terrifying. She relies on the wall and manages to steady herself. She looks out into the black space with all of the scattering white light, takes a breath, and pushes off.

She feels light as she glides. It’s only when she has to move her skates to keep the momentum that she feels hopeless. She makes it around once, then twice. Her feelings fluctuate so dramatically while she’s out there. When she’s about to go into her third lap, the cycle is broken when someone grabs her arm forcing her to jerk forward. She reaches for her front and closes her eyes, regains balance with the help of this person holding onto her, and then keeps going. She opens her eyes and turns to see a boy who is much younger than her. He grips her harder, and shouts, “You crazy or something? You gotta get outta here!”

Judy looks into this boy’s eyes that aren’t steely but nascent. His fingers sink into her but she jerks her arm out of his grasp and keeps going. She circles and circles, knowing that she’ll have to stop soon, but everything is hers right now. Everyone has cleared the rink. She knows they’re all watching, but she can’t see them and has to focus. Any lack of attention can destroy this. She imagines all of those judging and being so right. Then she blinks and they’re gone. But the lights, like stars, still move. The floor doesn’t exist, and she’s still so light, just before all of it will have to disappear.