Not my girl.
I repeat it.
It doesn't stick.
• • •
I knew she'd be here.
Knew it when I woke up earlier this morning. When I offered to drive Charlotte to the rink. She looked at me like I was crazy but she's never one to give up a free ride.
I told myself it was about getting extra ice time.
It wasn't.
So, Charlotte and I drove in together. Early. Too early for the team - or anyone really.
Charlotte hates skating when people are watching. She says she doesn't care. But she does. She'll never admit it out loud.
I push the door open, eyes already scanning and then I see her.
Ivy.
She's oblivious to the fact Charlotte and I just walked in, skating leisurely around the ice.
My sister turns toward the locker room, already complaining about the cold biting through her leggings, calling over her shoulder. "Don't hover."
"I'm not hovering."
She scoffs at my retort and I roll my eyes, waving her away.
My gaze moves back to Ivy as she executes a perfect twist.
She doesn't know I'm watching.
She's not pushing herself. Not showing off. Just skating, like she has all the time in the world. Like she belongs out there on the ice.
Something in me tightens.
She stopped skating when she was sixteen, after her mother passed away. After Leon and Ivy's father walked away from them.
They couldn't afford it anymore, so she just - stopped.
While Leon continued.
She goes into a soft spin, hair slipping loose from her ponytail, and I think about that idiot making her feel small.
I wasn't going to say anything.
That wasn't the plan.
But I step forward before I can stop myself.
She doesn't see me at first.
I rest my forearms on the boards.
Watch her finish a loop.
