“Who brought the chick?” Spring asks, looking into the stands.
“Wait, is that Izzie with her?” Tanner eyes me suspiciously. “She got big.”
For a while, my screensaver was her as a four-year-old on my shoulders, because we both looked so damn happy, and goofy, that I smiled every time I saw it.
“Just turned eight,” I agree.
“Is that your mom?” Spring is straining his eyes, but while Savannah hasn’t taken off her coat, or the scarf she’s bundled up in, she doesn’t look old enough to be anyone’s mother. Though she does have a very ‘girl-next-door’ quality about her.
“Just a girl who’s watching Izzie for me during practice,” I admit before getting them back to their drills, ignoring their questions until they get the message and pay attention.
By the time we get to the scrimmage, Izzie is cheering for me in the otherwise empty arena so I can see how my doing it this afternoon might have been a bit much. But it also pushes me to skate faster, better, and harder than I probably would have during a normal practice.
I don’t talk to anyone in the locker room, just shower and put on sweats before going back to the stands, where it looks very much like Savannah is helping Izzie with her math homework.
“Hey,” I say, knowing I shouldn’t smile when Savannah jumps and puts her hand on her heart. She reminds me of Lacey, not in looks, but the shy smile she gives me is exactly like the ones Lacey used to give Darren freshman year. My chest grows tight because yeah, sometimes it sounds like that would be nice, to have someone in the stands for you, both literally and figuratively, but I don’t have the time or energy for that shit.
“You were so good!” Izzie jumps into my arms. “Way faster than this afternoon. You’re holding back with us,” she calls me on it.
“I don’t need to skate fast with you, I just need to demonstrate,” I argue. “Were you good for Savannah?”
“She was excellent company,” Savannah assures me while Izzie nods, repeatedly.
“I like her,” Izzie adds while I help her pack up her things. I hide a smile when Savannah’s cheeks turn red.
“I can’t thank you enough for this. I usually have my shi—my schedule together, but they moved practice up an hour, and I?—”
“Don’t worry, it really wasn’t a problem. Izzie was a pleasure, and I appreciate not getting kicked out of the arena.”
“Ted wouldn’t have kicked you out, he just would have grilled you more and made you sign in immediately,” I assure her, noticing those same nerves from before. “What sport do you play?”
The athletic complex, which houses our arena, is open to all the school’s athletes, since it has the best weight rooms, along with a pool and saunas.
“I might have followed someone else in,” she says like an admission of wrongdoing, but I get the feeling she’s lying. Which would make sense if her boyfriend gave her his fob, since we’re neither allowed to bring guests to the training rooms nor lend out our fobs. I think our names pop up when we swipe them though, which would explain her earlier fear of Ted’s tablet. But I could be wrong.
“How very sneaky of you.” I try not to sound accusing, which makes it sound flirty. I realize this mostly because her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink and she clumsily picks up the rest of her things.
I shouldn’t be flirting with her, because I don’t date, and she doesn’t look like a girl who has one-night stands. She looks like the girl you take home to meet your parents when you’re ready to settle down, which she probably has with whoever lent her their fob. But she did just do me a huge solid, and I promised Izzie ice cream or hot chocolate, so it wouldn’t mean anything if we asked her to come along. As a thank you.
“Can I maybe—” I start to invite her, but my phone buzzes in my pocket, so I reach in to see if it’s my mom.
“No, I really can’t.” She doesn’t let me finish but sounds nervous. “It was my pleasure. And I promise not to sneak in anymore.”
I have an urge to tell her she can sneak in anytime, but thankfully, she turns to my sister and beams at her. “Good luck on your test, Izzie, I’m sure you’ll ace it.”
Savannah hurries down the stairs and I can’t help but sigh as I watch her go.
“I like her,” Izzie says, handing me my coat.
“So you’ve said.”
“I mean I really like her,” she says as we head to my old Jeep. It was my dad’s, and for the longest time I let it sit in the driveway, afraid it would stop feeling like his, but then I heard that I Drive Your Truck song and other than me losing my shit and being blinded by tears a few times, Izzie decided the Jeep was one of her favorite places to be. It’s the main reason I work at Eddie’s Garage every summer; to keep it running for as long as possible.
“She gets me,” Izzie continues. “And she smells like vanilla, which reminds me of cake, so…win-win.”
I laugh and shake my head at how her mind works, but I’d also noticed how Savannah smelled like honey and vanilla and…home. The way it used to be, when mom baked and lit candles and smiled.
“Was she helping you with math homework?”
