“I fell.” Her voice is hollow. “I fell and ruined everything.”
“Your voice was perfect—”
“It doesn't matter!” She finally looks at me, and the devastation in her eyes guts me. “They said it themselves. I'm not good enough. I'll never be good enough.”
“That's not true—”
“Yes, it is, Scotty!” She's crying harder now. “I had one chance. One. And I fucked it up because I can't skate. Because I thought a month of practice could make up for years of inexperience.” She laughs bitterly. “God, I'm so stupid.”
“You're not stupid.” I reach for her, but she steps back.
“I need to get out of this costume.” Her voice breaks. “I need to go home.”
“Laura, please—”
“I just need some space right now, okay?” She's already heading toward the locker room.
“As you wish, Princess,” I say, watching her leave.
Erik appears from around the corner, still in his Mr. Nibbles costume, his usual grin replaced with concern. “Hey, I—”
“Not now, Erik,” I say quietly, watching Laura disappear through the locker room door.
He stands next to me, both of us staring at the closed door. “That bad?”
“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair. “That bad.”
“Fuck.” He's quiet for a moment. “Her voice though, man. That was—”
“I know.” My throat is tight. “She was incredible. But it wasn't enough.”
We stand there in silence, and I replay the audition in my head, searching for what I could have done differently. How I could have prevented the fall, supported her better, made this work.
But there's no changing what happened.
Laura didn't get the role.
And I don't know how to fix this.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I don't check it. Whatever it is, it can wait.
Right now, all I can think about is the girl crying in the locker room, and how I promised her I'd catch her if she fell.
I did catch her.
But it wasn't enough to save her dream.
Chapter 28
The puck hits my stick wrong, ricocheting off at an awkward angle instead of landing clean. I feel like it’s mocking me as it skitters across the ice. This is the fourth time it’s happened today.
Muttering a curse under my breath, I chase after it, feeling the frustration burning hot in my chest.
“Hendricks, you good?” Alex calls from across the ice. As per usual, he’s the only one with the guts to actually point out how badly I’m doing in practice today.
“Yeah. Fine,” I throw back.
It’s a lie. An incredibly obvious one.
