lukas
Shewasthe last person I ever expected to run into again.
My heart beat hard in my chest. The setting sun painted the world in orange and gold and where she stood on the ice—she shone. I watched from the side as she talked Zara through what looked like a double axel—a skill she’d been struggling with for months.
I stayed back, watching as she coached my younger sister. I wondered if she knew how she looked, how a little part of me was thrilled at seeing her just standing on the ice. She was instructing a girl who literally idolized her. Zara had been in such a hurry that day, had rushed right past her biggest idol to stare at the ice rink where the qualifiers were taking place. I’d seen her.
I swallowed the lump of guilt forming. Knowing what I did—a secret I was almost certain Aimee had no idea about. My eyes never left her that day, and I was finding it hard to look away from her now. Her hair was not as light as it was before, there were dark circles under her eyes. She seemed to favor her one leg slightly—like she wasn’t putting all of her weight on it.
“She misses it. Even though she’ll never admit it,” a girl’s voice said to my right.
I looked over, and a girl with curly, brown hair and pale, freckled skin stood next to me, both hands holding hot chocolate.
“She’s a natural when it comes to this stuff,” she said.
I didn’t respond.
She clearly knew Aimee—her friend, if I had to guess. I listened as she introduced herself, and talked about how she and Aimee had been friends for just about their entire lives, so she’d grown up watching her skate.
“She used to teach a Tiny Tots Skating class at the rink near where we live. Her coach tried to get her to come back, but she was adamant. This is the first time since the accident that I’ve seen her willingly step on ice.”
We stood there, the smell of the hot chocolate wafting up, and watched Aimee mime the mechanics of the move. Aimee Bryantwasflawless and had the talent to back everything up. I knew everything that came naturally—I knew the effort, practice and sacrifices she put in to be as good as she was.
I knew because I was the same with skiing. Everything was skiing—and doing so at a professional level meant you gave a lot.
Not to mention that Zara had been following her for years, and I’d been tagging along when I wasn’t busy with my own training schedule.
Whenever our parents were busy, I was the one taking her to competitions and listening to the endless facts and idolizing gushing. Hell, I walked by Aimee’s face almost every day, seeing as Zara had a signed poster plastered to the front of her bedroom door, and numerous others in her room in my house. So I knew the work and skill Aimee put in to get every single point she ever scored while being on the ice.
I cringed inwardly.
I probably knew more about Aimee Bryant than was healthy—more than anynormal strangerought to. I ran my hand overmy mouth as anxiety started to build in my chest. I could not talk to her like I knew nothing about her. I knew too much. Every damned fact that Zara told me, it was burned into my brain. It’s been seared into the back of my eyeballs, rattling around between my ears…locked behind my lips.
There are things that she may not know and they could very much cause her pain.
Fuck that fucking prick Asher.
Yeah, I knew way too much, and if I did what was right, I would walk away, stay out of her radar. Sometimes not knowing is better, right? Fucking bullshit. I crossed my arms over my chest to avoid clenching my hands into fists.
Anxiety.
Guilt.
Desperation.
I was fucked.
I cleared my throat and nodded my head in the direction of Zara. “My sister. She’s followed Aimee for years and studied her. She’s made me take her to all the competitions or performances I could. Aimee is the reason my sister decided to pick up skates.”
Eloise’s eyes lit up.
When I glanced at her, I wasn't sure if it was with excitement or something a little more mischievous.
“Does she have a coach?”
I let out a sharp laugh. “No, we can’t seem to find one that will stick around long enough to actually train her. According to everyone we’ve tried to work with, Zara started too late by professional standards and was ‘too old’ to train, which is utter bullshit. They just want the girls who will medal and place instantly—the ones who have years of practice and skill behind them. No one believed in her enough to want to take the time.”
“Well, fuck all of those people.”
