"Dinner and a movie," I say. That's definitely a date, I've heard it said loads of times, and now that I've done it halfway with Bitty, I want to do it proper. My scalp itches for the grip of the helmet, and I pull it off, running my fingers through my hair to scratch at it.

When I look back at Bitty, I let myself see him, which is a weird thing to say when he's half obscured by his own helmet, but it's true. I look at him like he's a person I might kiss, at his mouth pursed beneath the edge of his visor, his hands I'm still holding onto.

I let go of one, kicking off with the barest pressure to try skating again, and it's easier this time. I'm not graceful, but I'm moving, and I think - I think I'd like to kiss him.

"When do you want to go?"