I knew Matilda was right about giving the public a couple to root for, and itwouldincrease our chances of making it to the final. But we had a good chance without the added “best friends forever” publicity stunts. And then I wouldn’t have to worry about her selling me out, or doing anything to jeopardize my chances of rebuilding my image.
Jack knew it was futile to push me. As my only friend, he gave me a lot of shit, but he knew when to leaveit.
Competing in a celebrity skating competition? Sure, go ahead and push.
Befriending Little Miss Sunshine? Absolutelynot.
Something about her didn’t sit right. She was accommodating, friendly, and beautiful, but something felt off. I was intentionally difficult and short with her, yet she barely faltered at my attitude.
Besides a slight frown when I talked shit about ice-skating, she remained pleasant, and the longer Matilda’s perfect, white-toothed smile held despite my bluntness, the more my apprehension toward her grew. People don’t put up with crap like that unless there’s something in it for them—no one swallows their pride for free.
So no, we didn’t need to be friends, and I would do my best to ensure that remained the case.
Despite working out after the meeting with Matilda to blow off some steam, I still woke up the next day feeling on edge.
My mother’s care home was too far from the rink to get there and back during visiting hours, so Jack had told the channel that I would be late for training on Tuesday and Friday mornings. The clean, bright hallways of Sycamore Lane Care Home were familiar enough that I easily navigated my way through them as I had done for the past four years. The paintings that decorated the walls were more comforting to me than the ones in my own home.
I reached my mother’s room and smiled for the first time in a few days.
“My lovely boy,” she cooed as I approached her armchair. Her open arms welcomed me into an embrace as I leaned down.
“Hey, Mom,” I answered, kissing her cheek as I took my usual seat and gently held her hand. The room was spacious, larger than most we had seen, with a bay window that overlooked a beautifully landscaped garden. It was warm, lit by natural light and a few lamps dotted around it. My mother’s paintings decorated the walls, making the room feel like we were still in my childhood home inL.A.
Mom adjusted her position in her chair, the sound of leather bringing my attention back to her. She looked more exhausted than usual, with deep purple shadows underneath her eyes. Her smile was still warm and wide, but soft in a way that I knew meant she hadn’t been sleeping well.
“A tea for you, my love.” She held out a china mug, and I rushed to take it from her shaking hands. “I know you prefer coffee, but you were stressed last night, and caffeine fuels stress.”
“I didn’t say I was stressed,” I said, then sipped the hot herbal tea. It was fucking delicious, but I couldn’t admit it out loud. I’d refused to drink it in favor of coffee for too many years.
“A mother always knows.” Her slight smile grew as she took a sip of her owntea.
“Really?”
“When you have children of your own one day, you’ll understand.”
“Humor me,” I answered, ignoring her comment.
“I can’t explain it.” She gestured to my face. “You can just tell when your child is unhappy. So tell me, what’s getting to you?”
Not wanting to delve into it too much, I settled on: “I’ve got a new job.”
Slack-jawed, she stared at me, then placed a hand over her heart. “Luca! That’ssobrilliant. What is it? You haven’t shown any interest in acting since we left L.A.”
And I still wasn’t interested. I had only my mother in mind when I’d agreed to go on the show with the aim of rebuilding my image to land a role in aDirty Dancingremake.It was my mom’s all-time favorite film. We’d watched it together so many times I could practically recite the script in my sleep. So when the producers had contacted Jack about considering me for the lead in the remake, I knew I had to getit.
But I wasn’t going to tell her that.
“I’m going to be a contestant onStars on Ice.”
Her eyes widened, her hand flying to cover her shocked smile.
“I’m sorry…what?”
“I know.”
“This was Jack, wasn’t it?” She had known Jack almost as longas I had, since we had been best friends growing up. After our first year at his family’s summer camp in the UK, we’d made it a tradition to visit each other at least once a year outside of summer vacation.
“How’d you guess?”
