Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first time Chrissy broke a bone she was twelve. 

Up until then, broken bones hadn’t been anything more than she could conceptualise past vague warnings from parents when hyperactive kids started doing something stupid. In her head, a broken bone would be obvious – the limb bent wrong and, for all intents and purposes, looking broken. It wasn’t like that for her, though.

It was the summer holidays, her and her friends had waved a rushed goodbye to their parents when dropped off before scurrying to the roller rink. In their hands, they clutched their Day Out Money like the most precious thing in the world, carefully figuring out the best way to spend it. Of course, there was the skate hire for all of them other than Stacey, who had her own rollerblades draped over one arm by their tied-together laces, but then there was lunch and other excitement to be taken into account. 

All that would have to wait, though, because all of them could barely tamper their excitement to get on the rink at all. So they hurried over to the skate hire and had a pair passed over to each of them. Chrissy’s fit her feet perfectly snugly when she put them on with a little help from the more experienced girls, this was her first time skating and she chose to take the comfort of the skates as a good sign.

Making their way over to the rink itself was full of awkward slipping and sliding from the inexperienced part of the group. Chrissy was the first here who had never gone before at all, but three other girls had only gone once or twice and so weren’t much more competent than her. They all giggled off their clumsiness, though, happy to just have a day of fun with their friends.

For the first hour everything was great. Almost all of them fell over at least once, and Chrissy spent most of her time clinging to the edge of the rink or another friend’s arm, but they were breathless and smiling when they rolled off the rink to buy lunch from the food counter. 

Chrissy hesitated for a moment when buying, before agreeing to split some fries with another girl, one who shrugged and said her mom had made sure she ate before hand just in case. After that, everyone piled into one of the tables to the side, supping cola through straws and nibbling on food between animated chatter. Vicki told the group how her music lessons had been going over the holiday and Chrissy’s attention lapsed.

That wasn’t to say the conversation was bad! Chrissy was very supportive of Vicki’s new hobby, she had just already heard all about it by now – the other girl was her cousin after all, and their families were close like that.

It was that slip in attention that had Chrissy seeing her. 

Her eyes drifted back over to the rink, watching with idle interest as other kids and grown ups alike raced laps around the rink. And then someone caught her gaze. A girl with bright-red skates and a beaming grin, racing smooth laps with another girl. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, the curls streaming behind her as she skated. She was clearly much more expert than Chrissy and seemed to be having a wonderful time.

The girls smile was bright and easy, and Chrissy found herself watching on, enraptured while everyone else finished eating.

“C’mon, Chris!” someone at their table enthused and Chrissy jumped, looking back over at them all. “We’re going back on the rink!”

That got her grinning and nodding again, easily hurrying after them to do some more skating. The crowd was growing off the rink now, others getting the same idea that their group had just had. A break for food was just a reasonable idea around now after working up an appetite by focusing on not falling over – the others may insist skating worked up the appetite, but Chrissy would beg to differ.

By the time they reached the entrance to the rink, Chrissy couldn’t see the girl with the red skates anymore. 

“I’m going to the bathroom quickly,” one of the girls announced, promising to catch up with their skating in a moment. It didn’t get that far though, with half the group deciding to accompany her.

In the end, it was Chrissy and two others on the rink waiting for them to come back. Her fingers skimmed along the edges of the rink as she rolled slowly along. Her friends stayed at her side, but Chrissy could feel them itching to race along faster, eyeing a group of racing boys with wistful longing. 

It was the easiest thing to smile at them, assuring them that she’d be fine while they did a couple of faster laps.

“Are you sure?” Stacey asked, but Chrissy could feel the excitement thrumming beneath her skin at the idea. 

She nodded a sincere smile towards them, shooing them off. 

For half a lap, Chrissy clung surely to the wall, still nervous and unsteady on her wheels. Alone  though, and keeping an eye on her speeding friends as they laughed delightedly as they overtook each other, Chrissy steeled her resolve and pulled away from the edge, steadily edging further away from its support. She didn’t want to keep her friends too limited by her poor skating, after all, and the only way to get better was to try.

The girls on the rink whooped her bravery as they streaked past, and Chrissy managed bashful smiles at their backs as she managed a couple laps. There were a couple instances where she nearly lost her feet from beneath her, but so far she managed to stay relatively up and steady, casting anxious glances at her feet that threw her balance off again and again. But she was doing it!

And then she wasn’t. The racing boys suddenly swerved around her too close for comfort and her startling had her wheels slipping out from beneath her. Hands shot out to catch herself clumsily and her arms hit the ground with a concerning crack.

Sharp, sudden pain shot from Chrissy’s wrist and sudden tears pricked in her eyes. Her knees throbbed from the impact and her elbow stung from the contact by her wrist was different. It was an intense pain and Chrissy knew immediately that something was wrong.

A pair of red skates appeared in her line of sight and Chrissy’s cheeks burned with humiliation as the owner crouched down before her with a worried frown.

“Are you okay?” the girl asked and Chrissy could only shake her head pathetically.

She didn’t dare speak, scared it would come out in a sob. It felt silly to be so upset over a fall, like she was being a little girl and not her twelve years, but it really hurt and the back of her throat felt hot and choked.

The girl from before hummed in understanding.

“Let me help you up?” she asked, holding her hands out.

It was the only reasonable course of action for Chrissy to push up onto her knees and clasp the other girl’s hand with her uninjured one. Feeling more unsteady than ever before, she got her feet beneath herself and let the other girl lead her from the rink, trying to focus on her saviour’s soothing chatter.

“There we go,” she was saying. “My mom’s on one of the benches – are your parents here? No? That’s okay, we can call them. My name’s Heather, by the way.”

“Chrissy,” she managed, voice wobbling slightly.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“I think–”

A watery gasp.

“Sorry. I think… my wrist.”

The girl – Heather – nods in understanding with a sympathetic frown.

“Think you broke it?” she says, helping Chrissy weave through the crowd as they step off the rink itself.

“I dunno,” she mumbles. “Hurts a lot, though.”

Heather nods like that’s given her every answer she needs before looking back ahead to where she’s leading Chrissy. The couple before them moves out the way when they see Heather making her way in their direction with a determined glint in her eye, revealing a woman with Heather’s same dark hair.

“Mommy,” Heather says, confirming Chrissy’s suspicions, “she hurt her wrist. Can you call her parents to pick her up?”

The woman startles, looking suitably worried and agrees easily. She coos over Chrissy’s distressed state and has her repeat the number her parents made sure she had memorised. In moments Chrissy is sat on the bench, cradling her wrist, as Heather crouches down to unfasten her skates.

“You’ll be okay,” she tells Chrissy softly. “I fell all the time when I started learning to skate. I nearly broke my ankle one time, that hurt. You just need more practice and less idiots racing too close to you.”

She manages a weak giggle.

“I don’t think I really want to keep learning after this.”

Heather shrugs, plopping herself onto the bench beside Chrissy once her skates are off, too. 

“You gonna do another sport instead?”

“Maybe.”

Heather hums.

“I’m joining the cheer team,” Heather declares. “I just need to practise over summer.” 

“Cheerleading?” Chrissy asks.

“Yeah,” Heather smiles, and Chrissy’s tummy does a weird little flip. “Think you’ll join too?”

She trains her gaze down and swings her legs as she thinks.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” she finally decides on. 

“Everything hurts until you master it. Everyone makes mistakes, you just need someone to help you when they happen.”

“Like you?” 

Heather looks a little flustered at that, hands tugging at the skirt of her dress.

“I didn’t help that much. I just helped you off the rink.”

“What else could you have done?” Chrissy asks, confused, and Heather seems to puzzle over it too before she brings her fingers to her lips and then to Chrissy’s hurt wrist, touch feather-light across her aching skin. “What was that?”

“Kissing it better,” Heather grins, dark eyes flashing with amusement with such a lovely glint that Chrissy has to duck her head.

“Aren’t I a little old for that?” she stammers, but Heather just bumps their shoulders softly together.

“Nah,” she dismisses. “Not when they’re done by an expert.”

Their chatter continues like that, even after Heather’s mom – who introduces herself as Janet – returns and promises that Chrissy’s dad is on his way. It makes the pain a little more bearable, and Chrissy even finds herself laughing.

Her friends make their way over, understandably concerned, but Chrissy assures them that they can keep skating. With promises to see each other later, and a tight but cautious hug from Vicki, they all make their way back onto the rink.

Heather stays at her side, keeping up conversation easily even when Chrissy is a little too distracted to be much good company.

When her dad shows up he thanks Janet profusely, exchanging numbers and beckoning Chrissy over. Despite the pain, Chrissy darts a hesitant look in Heather’s direction and the other girl smiles at her. For a second the brunette’s expression turns hesitant, and then she’s reaching out to squeeze Chrissy’s good wrist.

“Call me, yeah?” Heather asks. “We can hang out properly sometime. Maybe I can show you my cheer skills?”

Chrissy’s cheeks warm but she smiles back at the other girl, butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach.

“Totally!”

When her dad helps her do her seatbelt, Chrissy catches sight of how pink her cheeks have turned in the wing mirror.