"Ha! I think the cold air is getting to your head, I'm not buying you any -" Why was it getting harder to skate? Sam looked down in bewilderment, the sudden increase in difficulty at getting along the ice throwing him off. He fell behind, just short of her, and slowed in his pace momentarily as he took the time to try and figure out what exactly was wrong with the situation.
The ice was screwed up. But, then, if it was how was Ruby getting ahead of him? It had to be something else. Like his skates? Was something wrong with them? Were the blades falling off? He frowned in thought, then glanced up and glared off at the tiny figure moving farther down the rink ahead of him. No way. If she won, there'd be so much gloating afterward that Sam didn't think he'd be able to stand it. Screwed up skates and all, he was going to win. And then, having won with screwed up skates, he would mock her twice as badly.
What a wonderful idea.
Teeth clenched tight, Sam pushed harder at the ice and tried to catch up as best as he could. It was a terrible thing that he already was sucking at this skating thing, too, because it looked like he was going to fall over at any second.