Chapter 7
Jill whirled around Tara in effortless circles, arms gracefully out at her sides. She had once dreamed of being a professional figure skater, but gave it up to be a normal teenager. It was something Tara was bewildered to find out about her friend, and to think it only came up because of an accidental text.
“Do you come here a lot?” Tara asked.
“This is the first time in years.” Jill looked around the skating rink. “There’s only so much I can do with all these people around. If I really wanted to have fun, I’d need the whole rink to myself and much better skates.” She skated over to Tara and came to an abrupt halt, making ice fly. “Something’s going on with you. I can practically see it percolating in the back of your mind.”
Tara linked arms with her. “You read me too well. It’s about Luke.”
“Your aunt’s matchmaking target? What happened now? The last time we talked about him, you said he got your number and you guys were sort of doing the friend thing and seeing where it went.”
“We had our first date last night.”
Jill studied Tara’s face, probably looking for cues as to whether she should be excited for her or ready to commiserate.
“And probably our last.”
“Oh.” Jill’s shoulders dropped. “I was afraid you were about to say that. I’ll put away the confetti I was ready to throw.”
Once Tara had spilled the entire rollercoaster of a night, she pulled out her phone and showed Jill the end of their text thread, the sad neglected thing that had been sitting since late last night with nothing new.
Luke: If you want to talk, I’m here.
Tara: Thanks
“That’s it?” Jill surged forward on her skates and leaned forward, doing a slow spin with her leg extended. She came back slightly out of breath. “I am way more out of shape than I thought. I can’t even do a spiral.” She pointed at Tara’s phone. “That is just sad, Tara. Thanks? He’s probably dying.”
“I highly doubt that. Every time I’ve run into him it’s been because he was saving me out of pity. From my aunt, from Monica being spiteful, from Amelia’s stupid party. I feel like an idiot for confiding in him when he didn’t confide in me.”
“Then tell him that. Don’t say ‘thanks.’ He knows he’s in deep trouble with you. He’s asking you to get it all out there and let things be whatever they’re going to be.”
“Guys aren’t interested in attending pity parties.”
“He helped throw this one. Send the invitation, Tara.”
That was easy for Jill to say, but Tara didn’t tell her that. The advice came from a place of love, and below all of Tara’s insecurities was the knowledge that Jill was probably right.
“Okay, I’ll think about it.” Not that she hadn’t been thinking about it all day. At the moment, though, she might as well take advantage of the fact that she had a skating teacher all to herself. “Will you show me how to do that spiral thing?”
Jill raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want stitches in your chin for Christmas. Let me show you how to properly fall first.”
“There’s a proper way to fall?”
“There’s a proper way to do everything. Let’s start with gliding.”
Tara went to put away her phone, but returned to the text thread first.
Tara: I’m ready to talk. Will you call me tonight?
Maybe they could just feel each other out. It didn’t have to lead anywhere.
His response was almost immediate, and it filled her with warmth and butterflies she was afraid to acknowledge.
Luke: Of course. What time?
Tara: Seven
Luke: It’s a date.
