We sit at a booth at
a small pizza parlor next door to the rink

We order and get our drinks and then
there is this moment where we
stare at each other.

I am thinking that it’s bizarre
that I am even here
I wonder how this even happened
and I wonder how many other
people he could be spending the day
with besides me.

But mostly I wonder what he is thinking
as he looks at me with his
deep brown eyes
He has a scar right above
his left eyebrow
so this is what I point to

“My face meeting a fence.” he says.
“It happened when I first started riding.”

“And you kept riding?”

“Of course.” he says this like no other
option even existed. “I bet you’ve been
hurt flipping yourself everywhere, right?”

I laugh out loud. “So many times.”

“Well?”

I understand.