"The skates or me?" Both equally important questions. Is he insured? They would have told him that, right? What a weird thing to think about.

So here he is, standing on the ice in these skates, no weak ankles. He has no clue what step two is. "I don't need you to hold my hand. I've got it."

Experimentally, he moves one foot forward, and then another. A grin breaks across his face as he does it again. His movements are smoother this time and a lot less embarrassing, his body weaving with each slide.

And then he falls on his ass, tripping over his own feet.