“The point is that’s how you feel, and if she’s going to make a decision that upsets you, she should know it. She might still make it anyway, but I know from experience that keeping the feelings in makes them worse.”
Thea scuffs the blade of her skate into the ice. “I hate her.”
I’m hit with a memory, a flash of Wes and me in the parking lot of the roller skating rink, talking about my parents. I said I hated them, but really I hated that I couldn’t shake the feeling of being insignificant to them.
“I get that,” I say with a nod. “I’m not close with my parents, but I’ve got so many other people in my life who love me. And so do you. If you stay next year, you’ll have me in the stands cheering you on. That is, if your uncle hasn’t gotten rid of me.”
“He would be an idiot to do that.”
I skate backwards toward center ice, hoping she’ll follow me away from the corner of the rink and out of this pit of despair. “We’ll have to see how we do at the competition next month. Spencer wants to win, and I do too, so badly, but it’ll be a big test for us.”
Thea strides toward me. “You guys will kill it. But I didn’t mean Uncle Spencer.”
Can everyone see what’s happening between Wes and me?
I knock into her shoulder. “Okay, that’s enough outta you.”
“What happened to telling the truth?”
“Bold of you to mouth offbeforepractice.”
“Wait. This isn’t a real practice.”
“Bet your ass it’s a real practice. And trust me, this will help improve your hockey so”—I motion toward one end of the ice—“sprint!”
She groans dramatically, but as she follows my instructions and heads toward the opposite side of the rink, I see a small smile tug at one end of her lips.
I purposefully choose to remain in the center of the ice, not wanting Thea to think she’s not getting my full attention. Her uncles remain on the bench, letting us have our space. I decide to focus on drills with Thea that can improve her skating as a hockey player.
We practice forward crossovers, then switch to backward crossovers once she gets comfortable with the drill. I have her hopping on one skate over the blue line as she moves across the ice, and by the end, she’s glaring at me. We end our session with Thea skating forward before turning and gliding backward in a figure eight motion. It takes control and strength to remain upright, especially the longer your conditioning session goes. These drills burn your legs out, but they’re one of the best ways to become a better skater.
Thea’s a strong skater, but she needs more training to reach her full potential. I want to be here next year to support her, to keep skating with Spencer and…seeing Wes.
For the first time in years, I picture the future I want with startling clarity. It’s within my reach if I can trust in my bond with the Davidson brothers.
But a voice in my mind won’t be silenced. It whispers how I’d been wrong before—with Chip, Sebastian, my parents. And I could be wrong again.
I head to the locker room after finishing my skating lesson with Thea to drop off my skates.
“Thanks for being there for her today.” Wes’s voice startles me as I head into the hallway.
I avoid his gaze. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Isla.” His hand lands on my waist, the other lifting my chin until our eyes lock on each other. “This morning she was distraught, and now she’s asking about local hockey teams and new furniture for her room. You did that. No idea how. Everything I say is wrong.”
“Benefit of not being family.” I hate myself for fishing, for needing the validation from him.
“You heard Spencer. You’re part of this ragtag clan.” He taps the side of my head, drumming his fingertips against my temple. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Today was great. I’m happy I could help.”
“Red.” His opposite hand lands on the wall beside my head.
“I thought you left.” I avoid his question because this isn’t the time or place to delve into my insecurities about skating, or about whatever is happening between us.
“I realized I forgot something.” His fingers skim across my cheek, his eyes going hazy as he stares down at my mouth.
I lift onto my toes, impatience getting the better of me. My mouth captures his bottom lip, sucking lightly before letting him go. He lets out a staggered breath, his exhale becoming my inhale.
