Astrid wins, of course.

A whole conversation begins and ends when you make it to the opposite side of the rink. She stretches and swings her arms around. “Alright. So, do you think you’re going to make it?”

You regard her. To be honest, you don’t think you stand much of a change against Astrid, but the idea of racing her on ice seems like fun, regardless of the outcome of this playful race. Astrid tilts her head slightly as she stares back at you. Her lips part, and her teeth show as her eyebrows arch; she’s waiting for an answer. This time, you don’t blush. Instead, you just nod and say you don’t think your odds are too good.

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” she tells you while she tucks away from the loose strands of her hair away. “I can be competitive about things that I am passionate about. So, just remember that when you’re eating my shaved ice.”

You adjust your scarf and fix your gloves. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to treat me any different.” Astrid inches herself closer to you and kisses you softly on the cheek, reminding you that no matter what, her opinion will remain on your side, even when she wins.

…WHEN she wins?

You miss the start by a full second and a half. Astrid is already skating a complete yard in front of you. You glide up towards her, dodging the other skaters, and remain on your feet. Even in this world, your reflexes are sharp and guide you from trouble. However, no matter how good your reflexes are, Astrid is still a superior skater.

You’re at the halfway point when she’s three-quarters of the way. You slip, slide and then fall on your butt. You skip to a stop right at Astrid's feet. She looks down at you and smiles, careful not to boast about her victory.

“So, what do you have in mind for the night then?”