Summary:

Scott knew fuck all about figure skating, but he knew this: Kip Grady flew across the ice. No one on the Admirals would beat him in a puck race. He turned sideways, clearly staging for a move, and then he jumped, revolving weightlessly through the air, before landing on a single silver blade. Scott was close enough to hear the scraping sound of it before the breathless gasp of the audience resolved into cheering. Beside Scott, Carter called out, “Woo, yeah!”