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Natalie walked the streets of Wiskayok with her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets, her boots scuffing against the pavement. She wasn’t exactly sure what had gotten into her—this wasn’t something she normally did. But as she passed by a patch of wildflowers growing stubbornly along the edge of the sidewalk, she felt an inexplicable tug.
The flowers were small and imperfect, their colors clashing against the dull backdrop of the street. Bright yellows, soft purples, vibrant reds—all of them growing chaotically, without rules or symmetry.
She crouched down, carefully picking one of the yellow flowers and twirling it between her fingers. The memory hit her suddenly, like a soft nudge:
It had been one of those nights in Jackie’s room, the two of them tangled together under the covers, whispering into the dark. Natalie had been teasing Jackie, her voice low and mischievous.
“Let me guess,” Natalie had said, her head resting on Jackie’s shoulder. “Your favorite flower is something posh, like an orchid. Or roses. Big, cheesy red roses.”
Jackie had laughed softly, the sound like music in the quiet room. “Wow. Do you think I’m that predictable?”
“Uh, yeah,” Natalie had said with a smirk.
Jackie nudged her playfully. “Well, you’re wrong. It’s wildflowers.”
Natalie had pulled back slightly, blinking at her in surprise. “Wildflowers? Really?”
Jackie nodded, her expression soft. “They’re resilient. They grow anywhere, even in the most unexpected places. I think there’s something kind of beautiful about that.”
Natalie had stared at her, her chest tightening in a way that was both terrifying and wonderful. Jackie Taylor, who seemed to live in a world of rules and perfection, had a soft spot for wildflowers. It was unexpected, and it made Natalie’s heart ache with something she couldn’t name.
Now, as she moved along the sidewalk, picking only the most colorful and vibrant flowers, she felt that same warmth spread through her chest. Each flower she added to the makeshift bouquet reminded her of Jackie in some way—bright, beautiful, and a little bit wild.
By the time she reached Jackie’s house, her hands were full, one clutching the bouquet and the other a carefully folded paper plane.
Natalie stood under Jackie’s window, the cool evening air brushing against her skin. She glanced up, her nerves buzzing in her chest as she unfolded her hand and launched the paper plane toward the window. It sailed through the air, landing with a soft thunk on the windowsill.
A moment later, Jackie appeared, her honey-blonde hair catching the warm afternoon sunlight. She leaned out the window, squinting slightly against the brightness, her brows furrowed in confusion at first. But as soon as she spotted Natalie below, her expression quickly softened, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Natalie Scatorccio,” Jackie said with a smile, her voice light with amusement. “What are you up to?”
“Special delivery,” Natalie called up, holding the bouquet in her teeth as she grabbed onto the trellis and started climbing.
Jackie laughed, stepping back to give her room as Natalie climbed into the room, her boots landing softly on the carpet. She pulled the flowers from her mouth, her face flushed as she thrust them toward Jackie.
“For you,” she said awkwardly, her voice gruff.
Jackie’s eyes lit up, her smile widening as she took the bouquet. “What’s the occasion?”
Natalie shrugged, scratching the back of her neck. “No occasion. I just...wanted to pick flowers for my girlfriend.”
The words felt strange and wonderful coming out of her mouth. My girlfriend.
Jackie’s face softened, and before Natalie could react, she pulled her into a kiss. It was soft and sweet, the kind of kiss that made Natalie’s chest ache with how much she cared for Jackie.
When they finally pulled apart, Jackie rested her forehead against Natalie’s, her voice low and teasing. “You’re getting soft on me, Scatorccio.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Natalie muttered, but the corner of her mouth quirked up into a small smile.
“So,” Jackie said, stepping back and setting the flowers carefully on her desk. “What’s next? Are you going to serenade me outside my window?”
Natalie snorted. “Not exactly. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go on a date.”
Jackie tilted her head, her brows lifting in surprise. “A date? Where?”
Natalie hesitated, her face flushing. “The ice skating rink.”
Jackie blinked, clearly caught off guard. “The ice skating rink? You? That’s...unexpected.”
Natalie rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t get too excited. It’s the only socially acceptable place where we can hold hands.”
Something flickered across Jackie’s face—a mix of fondness and sadness that made Natalie’s chest tighten.
“I wish it didn’t have to be like that,” Jackie said softly.
Natalie shrugged, her tone casual but her heart aching. “I don’t mind. I’d wear those ridiculous skates if it meant I could hold your hand in public.”
Jackie smiled at her, but there was a hint of something deeper in her gaze. “You’re full of surprises, Nat,” she said, her voice gentle.
“Yeah, well,” Natalie said, smirking. “Don’t get used to it.”
Jackie reached out, brushing her fingers against Natalie’s cheek. “I think I already have.”
Natalie leaned into her touch, her chest tightening with an unfamiliar but welcome warmth.
For the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she was allowed to be happy.
…..
Natalie stepped into the rink, the smell of cold air and stale popcorn hitting her immediately. The place was packed with families, awkward teenagers on group dates, and the occasional pair of serious skaters gliding across the ice like they’d been born on it. The faint sound of a pop song from the rink’s speakers blended with the hum of conversation and the scrape of blades against ice.
Natalie’s fingers tightened around Jackie’s hand as they approached the counter to rent skates. She glanced at Jackie, who looked perfectly at ease, her honey-blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail, her cheeks pink from the cold.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually good at this,” Natalie said, narrowing her eyes.
Jackie turned to her, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “You mean you’re not?”
Natalie snorted. “I’ve been on skates like...once. And I fell on my ass within five minutes.”
“Well,” Jackie said, her smile widening, “this is going to be fun.”
Natalie groaned, already regretting her choice.
They found a bench near the edge of the rink to lace up their skates. Jackie worked quickly, her movements practiced and efficient, while Natalie struggled with the stiff, uncomfortable boots.
“You’re taking forever,” Jackie teased, leaning back on the bench to watch her.
“These things are torture devices,” Natalie muttered, yanking at the laces. “Who invented these? Sadists?”
Jackie laughed, her voice soft and melodic. “You’ll survive.”
When Natalie finally managed to get her skates on, she stood, wobbling slightly as she adjusted to the unfamiliar weight. Jackie stood effortlessly beside her, offering her hand.
“Ready?” Jackie asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“No,” Natalie said flatly, but she took Jackie’s hand anyway.
….
The rink was colder than Natalie expected, the chill biting at her nose and cheeks as they stepped onto the ice. Jackie moved with ease, gliding forward like she’d been doing this her whole life.
Natalie, on the other hand, was a disaster. The moment her skates hit the ice, her legs wobbled wildly, and she gripped the railing with both hands, her heart pounding.
“Okay, this was a mistake,” Natalie said, her voice high with panic.
Jackie turned back to her, laughing softly. “You haven’t even moved yet.”
“I don’t need to move,” Natalie said. “The ice is already trying to kill me.”
Jackie skated over, her movements graceful and effortless. She held out her hand. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
Natalie eyed her hand suspiciously. “You’re just going to let me fall on my ass.”
Jackie smirked. “I would never.”
“Uh-huh,” Natalie said, but she reluctantly let go of the railing and took Jackie’s hand.
The moment she let go, she wobbled again, her arms flailing as she struggled to keep her balance. Jackie steadied her, her grip firm but gentle.
“You’ve got this,” Jackie said, her voice full of encouragement.
“No, I don’t,” Natalie muttered, but she let Jackie pull her forward anyway.
….
For the next twenty minutes, Jackie guided Natalie around the rink, one hand holding hers and the other on her waist to keep her steady. Natalie stumbled constantly, her legs threatening to give out every few steps, but Jackie never let her fall.
“You’re doing great,” Jackie said, her voice warm.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Natalie shot back, but she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips.
Jackie laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re better than you think. You just have to trust yourself.”
“Trust myself?” Natalie said, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, that’s worked out great for me in the past.”
Jackie gave her a pointed look. “I’m serious. You can do this.”
Natalie sighed, focusing on the ice in front of her. She hated how vulnerable she felt, wobbling and unsteady, but Jackie’s presence made it bearable. Despite not really enjoying the skating itself, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the weight of Jackie’s palm in hers, the steady warmth of her grip grounding her. There was a quiet thrill in it—being able to hold Jackie’s hand in public without raising suspicious looks or whispered questions. Here, at the rink, it was normal to hold a friend’s hand, to guide them, to steady them if they were struggling. No one would question it, no one would give them a second glance. And to Natalie, it meant everything.
....
Inevitably, Natalie’s legs gave out, and she fell, landing hard on the ice. The cold seeped through her jeans, and she groaned, her pride stinging more than anything else.
Jackie skated back to her, her lips twitching as she tried to hold back a laugh. “You okay?”
“Don’t,” Natalie warned, glaring up at her.
Jackie burst out laughing, her hand covering her mouth.
“I hate you,” Natalie muttered, though her lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.
“No, you don’t,” Jackie said, holding out her hand to help her up.
Natalie took it, letting Jackie pull her to her feet.
As they stood there, their faces inches apart, Natalie found herself smiling despite the embarrassment. Jackie’s eyes were sparkling, catching the rink’s bright overhead lights like shards of amber, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink from the cold and laughter. A few stray strands of honey-blonde hair had slipped from her ponytail, framing her face in a way that made her look softer, more real. There was something almost dizzying about the way she was looking at Natalie—like she was amused, fond, and maybe even a little enchanted. And in that moment, with the cold biting at her skin and her legs aching from the fall, Natalie thought Jackie Taylor had never looked more beautiful.
…..
They eventually made their way off the ice, collapsing onto the bench in a tangle of limbs. Natalie was exhausted, her legs aching, but she couldn’t stop smiling.
“That was...something,” Natalie said, leaning back against the bench.
Jackie turned to her, her expression soft. “You did better than you think.”
Natalie snorted. “Sure. I’ll be in the Olympics next year.”
Jackie reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Natalie’s face. “You were brave.”
Natalie felt her chest tighten, her smile fading. “I don’t feel brave.”
“You are,” Jackie said firmly, her voice full of conviction.
Natalie looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the laces of her skates. “Thanks for not letting me fall on my face too much.”
Jackie smiled, leaning closer. “Anytime.”
For a moment, they just sat there, the noise of the rink fading into the background. Then Jackie reached out, taking Natalie’s hand in hers.
“I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” Jackie said softly.
Natalie looked up at her, her heart aching. “I don’t care,” she said quietly. “If ice skating is the only place I can hold your hand, then I’ll take it.”
Jackie’s lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. “You’re such a sap, Scatorccio.”
“Yeah, well,” Natalie said, her voice soft. “You make it easy.”