I hummed in agreement.
“Brennan would have kicked their asses had he been there.”
Brennan Sinclair—he’d been practically a nobody in the skating world before coaching Aimee. She’d put him on the map, and he honed her skills as a single skater before pairing her up with Asher a few years later.
I remember Zara begging our parents to take her to him, but it just hadn’t been in the cards at the time. I remember the day it was announced that Aimee was leaving solo skating to become a Pairs skater. How Zara had come screeching into my room beyond excited that Brennan had picked up another skater.
Once he paired the two of them up, that was when he becamebig. The three of them became the team to beat and he was suddenlyverysought after and acclaimed. Zara raved about how if Brennan was willing to take another skater on, then maybe one day she could be coached by him, and no one wanted to crush those dreams.
“I don’t doubt it. I saw how he handled everything after the accident.”
Eloise turned to look at me. “You were there?”
I nodded towards my sister. “I had a training event in the area, so it made sense, and I have an annoying little sister who I love whobeggedto come. She said she wanted to see Aimee Bryant make it to the Olympics.”
I would never forget the way Brennan had to pry a visibly hurt and numb Aimee off the ice. How she just…stopped being a person, large tears leaking from her eyes as he held her. Not caring that she was a mess.
The scream that had torn from her chest…the way he’d just held her tighter, closer. Officials wouldn’t let her parents on the ice—I could remember how their voices rang and echoed. I could remember the way his parents sobs sounded. I could still see how the cameras hadn’t stopped filming, how Asher remainedsprawled on the ice. I remember hugging a crying Zara to my chest. The day had been a mess.
“I…I wasn’t there that day.” Eloise said. “Some days I wish I had been. But then there are other days I’m glad I wasn’t. I was friends with Asher, and what happened hit hard—hit so many people hard. But Aimee needed someone who didn’t treat her like she was broken. The early days were hard, but once she left the hospital—she needed someone who treated her like a normal person,” she paused, “I never pretended it didn’t happen, but I refused and tried my hardest to not let her sink too far into her grief.”
Eloise took a shaky breath, and I stayed quiet, waiting for whatever she would say next.
The sun was almost fully set, the lights coming to life in the trees, painting everything in a soft warm glow.
“It happened a couple of times—the sinking—and it was always so hard to bring her back. She’d just fall into herself and spiral. It always ended up with her in the hospital—exacerbating her injuries. And someone needed to keep her phone away from her.”
I grimaced.
I also remembered the online vitriol and hate. I’d had to put up blocks on Zara’s devices because my little sister came close to online altercations a few too many times. I stared at Aimee as she again mimed the mechanics Zara needed to do in order to perform the jump correctly.
Eloise laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. She’d be furiously embarrassed if she knew I was over here yapping to a total stranger.”
If only her friend knew just how much I already knew about Aimee Bryant.
We stood there and watched as Zara lined up to take the jump, and when her skate left the ice, her body tightening as shespun in the air…and when her skate came back down to the ice and she stuck the landing. I brought my fingers to my lips and whistled.
Zara skidded to a stop, spun around and waved at me enthusiastically.
Aimee looked over her shoulder at us.
Out of my periphery, I saw Eloise lift the cups slightly. “I hope all of this doesn’t set her back,” she said quietly.
I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me, or herself so I didn’t respond. But it was clear that Aimee was still carrying a lot about what happened that day—how everything went down. If Eloise hadn’t alluded to as much, it was pretty clear that she carried a lot of guilt.
Eloise nudged me, and I followed her out onto the ice.
Aimee was even prettier up close.
She’d definitely dyed her hair a darker color—more of a fiery orange-red over the lighter color it was the last time I’d seen her. I didn’t mind the new color, but I found myself missing the softer shade. It was piled in a messy bun on top of her head. A grey turtleneck covered her throat, and the oversized hoodie she had on dwarfed her frame. She’d ducked her chin the moment we’d started over. She had on black leggings and thick socks with winter boots.
“I’m Eloise.”
I listened as Zara introduced herself, and while Eloise complimented her.
I found I couldn’t take my eyes off of Aimee.
Well.
