If we make the Showcase - the whole league will be watching.
18
LEONORA
Willow and I step onto the ice carefully, testing the surface before pushing off into long, easy strides. The ice sings beneath our blades - that specific sound I’ve known since childhood.
“You needed this,” Willow says, gliding beside me.
She spins, arms outstretched, her edges carving a perfect circle into the surface. She’s been doing figure skating since she was six, and it shows in every movement - graceful where I’m efficient, fluid where I’m sharp.
“You’ve been emanating stress for two days,” she adds.
“I have not.”
“You absolutely have.” She loops around me in a lazy circle. “Ever since the game. Ever since Showcase became an actual possibility.”
I push harder into the ice, letting the cold air rush past my face.
The lake is empty - just us, the grey winter sky and the trees lining the shore. No crowds. No scouts. No Zane Blakewatching me from across the ice.
Just this.
“I am excited,” I admit.
“But?”
“But I’m also terrified.”
Willow slows until we’re gliding side by side. “Of getting caught?”
“Of everything.” I gesture vaguely at the world beyond the lake. “The scouts. The media. The other teams watching. The longer this goes on, the more attention there is. And the more attention we get…”
“The harder it is to hide.”
“Yeah.”
The only sounds are our blades and the distant call of a bird somewhere in the trees.
Then Willow says, “You know Zane will be there for the weekend too.”
I groan. “Please don’t.”
“I’m just saying.” She grins. “Your first weekend away together. Very romantic.”
“It’s a hockey tournament.”
“Same thing.”
“Absolutely not.”
She laughs and pushes ahead, spinning backward so she can watch my face. “Have you talked to him since Halloween? As yourself, I mean. Not as Lee.”
“No.”
“Have you seen him around campus?”
“Only that time at the coffee shop. When I hid in the bathroom.”
