A Right Pair

“C’mon Maria. It’s a charity event for god’s sake.”

“I'd literally rather die.”

Shayla collapsed against the locker as if her bones had transformed into jelly. She was always prone to theatrics. And grating on Maria’s last nerve.  

“Maybe you would,” Shayla argued. “But look at these sweet faces.” Shayla shoved her phone against Maria’s eyeballs. “Are you really going to let them die? Are you?”

Maria shoved the screen out of her face. “They’re not going to die, Shayla. Haven is a no-kill shelter. The money is for new kennels.”

Shalya blinked, cocking her head. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Maria rolled her eyes. “Oh.”

If there were only two things the small town of West Haven was good at, it was ice sports and charity. In the spirit of both, every winter the local ice center hosted a charity event. There was dinner, an auction, and three skating programs to round out the night. Every year was a different theme and a different charity. This year, they were pairing six random skaters together and all proceeds would go to West Haven Animal Rescue.

“Come ooooon,” Shayla moaned. “What’s the big deal? He’s back in town now, you know. Has been a whole month.” 

Maria nodded, barely listening. She’d let Shayla ramble until she wore herself out. Which, realistically, could be hours from now.

God help her. 

“And he’s super nice now. And sorry.”

Maria’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, as if! He sucks. You know he sucks. Don’t even give me those eyes right now, Shalya! You know he does. Shayla! And how would you know he’s sorry?”

Shayla waved her off. “Semantics.” Maria sputtered and a grin spread over Shayla’s face. “Fine. Maybe he does suck…but he’s the hottest sucky person I know.”

“Ack. No.” Maria slammed her locker shut, slipping on her blade covers to get to the ice. “You’re disgusting. Besides,” she said. “I participated last year and the year before that. I think I’ve done my part for charity.”

Shayla seemed more than happy to keep trying to convince Maria of why she should say yes. Maria, not so much.

“Go home, Shayla.”

“It’s for charity!” she yelled after her.

“Then I’ll write a check."

Miles LeRoy was a winner. 

It wasn’t an arrogant brag or a debatable point, but rather a simple fact. He worked hard to win. He was persistent. Ambition. Dedicated. Things always worked out for Miles, and Little Miss Attitude wasn’t going to stand in his way. 

Miles knocked three times and patiently waited in the December chill. The brassy knob turned, and Miles produced a bouquet of pink roses. When the door swung open, he put on his best smile. 

“Hey, Beautiful. Long time no see.”

 The door shut promptly on his face. 

Oh, forget nice.

Miles pounded hard on the door. “Maria!” The flowers and smile clearly weren’t going to work. Not that he really expected them too. Maria had always been difficult. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

Her shrieky voice came through the door. “Then I guess you're never leaving.”

“Guess so,” he shouted back. 

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

There was silence on both sides. The only sound was Miles’ heavy breathing as he tried to calm himself.

“Real mature, Miles,” came her reply at last. 

Yeah. It hadn’t been his proudest moment but goddamn if she didn’t bring it out in him. She was stubborn, argumentative–and his one-way ticket to a cleaner image in the eyes of the public. Skating was just as much about optics as it was about skill and his were…seriously unappealing to say the least. Especially after Cresheda. Which, to be fair, wasn't entirely his fault. How was he supposed to know she was a sex worker? It was a McDonalds and–he was getting sidetracked. Besides the point. He had an image to clean up and raising an ass load of money at a charity event for animals? Well, that would clean it right up. 

“I really didn’t want to have to do this Maria, but…I will give you all the money in my wallet if you open the door right now.”

Miles waited exactly three seconds before the lock turned and the door cracked. Maria's little eye peeked out. “How much?” she asked skeptically.

“12 cents.”

Maria tried to slam it shut, but Miles forced his shoe into the door and then the rest of his body. 

“You know this kind of treatment really hurts, Maria.” She shoved her whole body into the door, smacking his forehead. “Ow! Brat.” Miles could shove hard too. 

“Ugh,” Maria grunted, giving up pushing back. “I’m calling the police.” 

Miles fell into the house. “Oh really?”

“Really.”

Miles widened his eyes, knocking his knees together. “Oh, oh no. Look at that. Look. I’m shaking in my snow boots.”

Maria huffed, glaring at him from across the room. Arms crossed. Hip cocked out. Foot tapping. “What do you want, Miles?”

“Be my partner at the charity.”

“Pass.”

“Oh, don't be like that Maria.”

Her eyes flashed. “I’ll be however I want, asshole.”

Miles dropped onto the sofa behind him, a little chuckle escaping him. “Did you just call me…an asshole?” he asked slowly.

Maria’s cheeks tinged a little pink. “Yeah. I did–asshole.”

Miles laughed hard. “Wowww. I’m impressed, little sis.”

Her glare was back in full force. “I’m literally older than you.”

“Wrong. We both know I am. I’m taller, stronger–

“Dumber.”

“Older.”

“Wrong. It’s me. Mom said.”

“What! No. When?”

Maria tapped her finger to her chin. “Hmm, I don’t know. I think maybe it was sometime in the last six months that we haven’t seen or heard from you, jackass!.”

Damn. Three in one day. 

Miles supposed he deserved that though. But that didn’t mean it stung any less. 

Maria refused to meet his eye, toeing the carpet like she used to do when they were little and she’d done something bad. “Sorry,” she eventually mumbled. “That was mean.”

“No, it’s fine. Really.” 

And then Miles waited a whole five seconds before he proved how much of an asshole he really was. “You can always make it up to me by being my partner at the Ice Center though.”

Maria set her jaw, looking more than conflicted. He knew he’d already won her over though. A smile threatened to show. Maria struggled to come up with an excuse.

“Remember the last time we tried to be partners.”

Oh, not this again.

Maria and Miles started out as figure skating partners when they were younger. They competed in every pair's competition together they qualified for and they were great too. Everybody said so. And they even had the trophies to prove it too.

 But that partnership quickly dissolved. Call it too much time together. Or being siblings. Or the inability to agree on absolutely anything, but by the time they’d hit their teens, they each had new partners and were competing against each other in nearly every skating competition. 

Though they’d been born as a pair, they were unable to skate as one.

The irony was not lost on him.

  Miles crossed his arms. “We were six.”

“You bit me!”

“We were six!”

“And seven. And eight. And–”

“We were children.”

“You never said sorry!”

Miles' eyes widened. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Dead.”

He huffed. “Alright. Fine. I’m sorry for biting you when I was six.”

Maria raised her eyebrows. Miles sighed. “And seven. And eight. And ten.”

“Why do I feel like you don’t mean it?”

Because he didn’t. But alas. “My dear, sweet, beautiful sister whom I love very much. Do you think you could find it in your generous heart to forgive me for biting you when we were six years old.”

Maria seemed to consider this. “You know, I’m really not–”

“Oh forget it!” Miles stomped to the door and Maria chuckled behind him.

“I’m kidding. Miles!” Miles' hand was on the door when she jerked him back by his jacket. “I’m kidding.”

He turned around with a smile already on his face. “I know. I just wanted you to work for it.”

“Oh my god. Get out.”

Miles ran out before she got the chance to smack him. “6:00 a.m. sharp,” he called over his shoulder. “We got the early session.”

Maria had fallen on her face four times in the last twenty minutes. It was a stark reminder why they had stopped being partners. 

“It’s called a lift, Miles. Jesus.”

“I know that,” he snapped, squirting water into his mouth. 

Maria wiped a rag down her face. “This was a bad idea. I knew we shouldn’t have done this.”

“Well, too late now,” he shouted. “We’re doing it.”

“God, I forgot what a jerk you were in practice.”

“And I forgot how whiny you were.”

Maria whipped him in the ass with her towel. Miles yelped and they faced each other glaring.

Miles gave in first. “Let’s just run it one more time. We still have half an hour left.”

“Not happening.”

“Why the hell not?” he snapped. 

Maria threw down the towel, turning to glare at him. “Why? So you can drop me on my face again. I don’t think so.”

Smoke was practically billowing from his ears. “Do you think I’m trying to drop you?”

“Well if you’re not, then I’m not really sure what you’re doing.”

Miles opened his mouth to spew what Maria assumed would be another insult when the bouncy beat of “I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas” exploded out of the rink speakers. Maria slapped her hands over her ears, Miles mirroring her actions. 

“What the hell is this?”

Maria rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what this was. “Shut it off, Shayla!”

The music cut and Shayla's voice came over the intercom. “But it’s my favorite.”

Finally able to hear, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“You mean besides watching you guys flail and argue for the last thirty minutes?”

“Ha ha.”

Shayla skipped down from the control box, her curls bouncing the whole way. “I’ve been choreographing your program. To this song of course. And I have the perfect costumes. Big pink tutus for both of you. And Miles is gonna be dressed as a hippo.”

Maria snorted. 

“Absolutely not.”

Shayla put on a faux frown. “Sadly, you don’t have a choice.”

Miles crossed his arms. “And why is that?”

Shayla clapped. “Because I already checked with Margery and she thinks it’s perfect.”

Maria couldn’t keep in her laughter. 

“Are you kidding Shayla?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“I had a great program all planned out. I even had a double loop double lutz planned that was going to blow everyone away.”

Shayla groaned loudly. “Oh my god, Miles. No one cares. This is about animals. You’re doing the hippopotamus dance for the animals. And you’re gonna like it, for the animals!”

Maria covered her mouth to stop from laughing. Miles had known Shayla just as long as Maria had, but Shayla rarely yelled at him. She usually reserved her crazy side for Maria given the massive crush she used to have on him. She’d gotten over it it seemed. 

“I–okay.”

Shayla perked right back up. “Okay? Great. Let’s get started. You only have one more day. So, Miles, you start here. And Maria, you go there. Yep, perfect. Oh, this is gonna be so fun!”

Miles and Maria shared a look. Fun was one word for it.

A grueling two hours later, Maria collapsed onto the bench beside the rink, panting heavily. Her legs were jelly, and her muscles were screaming in protest

Miles dropped down next to her, equally exhausted. “I can't believe we're actually doing this,” he muttered between deep breaths.

Shayla was still buzzing with energy, twirling around them. “You guys were amazing! This routine is going to be epic.”

Maria managed a weak smile. “I'm sure it will be.”

“See! I told you.”

Shayla walked away still mumbling excitedly about the costume.

“Same old Shayla,” Miles chuckled.

“Yeah. She hasn’t changed a bit.”

They sat in a comfortable silence, nothing but the sound of their breathing filling the space. Maria pulled her skates off, relishing the cool air as it hit her feet. This was better than taking her bra off at the end of the day. Miles did the same, taking his time unlacing the strings. Maria glanced at him. 

“You okay? Still nervous about that hippo costume,” she teased.

Miles gave a weak chuckle. “No, no. Uh, it's not that.”

Maria leaned forward. “What is it then?”

Miles fiddled with his fingers in his lap. Before Maria could prod again he blurted. “Do you think Mom is coming tomorrow?”

Maria thought about it. “She’s never missed an event before.”

“Yeah. That’s what I was afraid of,” he tried to laugh. Maria didn’t say anything as Miles pulled his boots off, immediately slipping on his tennis shoes. “Is she still mad?”

“What do you think?”

“I think she’s livid.”

Maria hummed. “You left us Miles.” Just like Dad. 

“I know that.”

“You didn’t call. You didn’t text. You didn’t write.”

“I know that! Okay? I know.”

They sat in silence for another minute.

“Why didn’t you?”

Miles sighed. “At first? I was just mad. I didn’t want to call or text or anything.” He laughed, but it wasn’t kind. “Once I’d even hoped you’d call me just so I could ignore it, you know?” He blew out a heavy breath. “But a couple days went by and I was still ignoring you and that turned into a week. And that turned into two. And,” his voice started to waver, “I didn’t know what to say to you guys. Or if you even wanted me to. Eventually…not talking..became easier than talking.”

Miles paused, taking a steadying breath. “It’s ironic but, I was hoping eventually you’d call, and I’d get to pick up. But—you never did. So, I never did. So…yeah.”

Tears had slipped down Miles’ cheeks as he finished talking. Maria wiped them away, her own heart tugging. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She hadn’t known.

Miles’ head whipped to hers. “No,” he said fiercely. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“But–”

“No buts. I’m your big brother. I’m the sorry one.”

Maria cracked a smile. “Nuh uh.”

Miles smiled back. “Yeah huh. Mom said.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Miles,” she warned, the tears quickly drying.

“Fine. Fine. I’m done.”

Maria stood, dragging him up with her. “We have a long day tomorrow. What do you say we get out of here?”

“I say absolutely.”

Miles had gone to bed late that night and woke up early to his phone being ravaged with texts and calls. He’d rolled over expecting to see the end of the world displayed on his screen, but it was only Shayla. 

As a person, Miles loved her like his own sister. As a choreographer—she was nothing short of a nightmare. Everything had to go perfect in order to save the animals. She’d rambled on and on about it for hours. Miles had no idea what she was talking about though. Everyone knew West Haven was a no-kill shelter. He didn’t have it in him to tell her to shut it. 

Luckily his sister didn’t have the same problem.

“Shayla. Enough. Before I murder you.”

“Sorry,” she muttered sheepishly. “You guys just look so perfect. I can’t wait till everybody sees what I’ve done with you.”

Miles patted the giant blowup costume with the pink tutu. “Yeah. Me neither,” he deadpanned.

“Oh hush,” Shayla chastised. “You look adorable.”

That was one word for it.

Margery’s voice came over the loudspeakers. “And now presenting your favorite set of West Haven siblings, Miles and Maria LeRoy!”

Shayla squealed right along with the rest of the crowd as they skated onto the ice. Miles and Maria circled the rink, waving and smiling. Not that they could see Miles’ smile from beneath the costume. He could absolutely see theirs though. And hear their giggles. Good God.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” he muttered.

“Me neither,” Maria laughed.

They finished their lap, Miles settling on his mark and Maria skating to hers. The crowd quieted, sensing the program was about to start. Miles took a deep breath. This part never got old. The buzz right before a performance. The high that lasted for hours afterward. Miles looked out over the crowd, pleased to see more than a few familiar faces. But his breath caught when he settled on one in particular. 

She’d cut her hair shorter, and some new lines had formed in the corners of her mouth, but it was still the same woman he’d known all his life. 

Mom. 

She looked apprehensive and Miles' stomach twisted. He hated that he’d put that look on her face. Miles gave a little wave and some of the crowd laughed and waved back. He didn’t care about that though, not until the one that mattered waved back.

Good luck, she mouthed. 

Miles pressed his hand to his chest.

I love you.

The music cued up and from his left, Maria whispered, “You good?”

“Never better, sis.”