Slipping my left foot into the other skate, I glance up at Derek with a smirk. "That, Mr. Hale, is possibly the dumbest question anyone has ever asked me, and someone once asked if I'd ever heard of Beyonce. Of course I like them, you sill wolf. I love them."

Once both skates are laced up, I stretch out my legs, admiring how they look, all sleek and gorgeous, the blades sticking out proudly. I don't stand, afraid of dulling them too soon, but they sure do look nice.

"And they fit perfectly," I say, giving him a small smile. There's still a weight in my gut, still an ache from missing my family and from dinner yesterday with Simon, but it feels a little less overbearing now. I feel warm.