Page 66

I smile, leaning into his side until he lifts his arm, brings me closer.
“It’s that bad with her?”
Of all the things I can complain to Jace about, my mother’s treatment isn’t one of them. At least I have a mother, and at least she’s not a drunk who uses me as a punching bag. “It could be worse,” I mutter.
He’s quiet a moment, but I can feel his hold on me loosening with each second. As if reading my mind, he says, “If you’re comparing your mom to my grandpa right now, then don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” he trails off, shaking his head. For a long moment, we sit in silence while I wait for him to continue. Instead, he says, coming to a stand and offering me his hand, “Let’s go to the rink. We’ll grab dinner there, and you can skate for as long you like. And if your mom’s still home when we get back—” he motions to his van “—then we can sleep under the stars tonight.”
Momisstill home when we’re done hours later, and so we do what Jace suggested. We spend the night in his van, and I fall asleep in his arms, and not once does Mom call or text me wondering where I am or who I’m with. And I know why. I worked it out months ago. To her, I’m as dead as the offspring she wishes were alive.
43
Harlow
It’s raining out—enough that the droplets completely blur the view beyond the windshield before the wipers kick in. I’d be worried… if we weren’t sitting idle in the parking lot. Dad had found a space big enough to park his truck, minus the trailer, and behind us, in the distance is the basketball arena. He’d spent the entire drive talking about Jace and how excited he was to watch a ball game again.
Me? I spent it in silence, wondering if I could even walk through the doors.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asks, turning his entire body to me. He’d been raring to go as soon as he parked, but I stopped him before he could even kill the engine. “Talk to me, kiddo.”
I slowly face him. “So… Jace has these weekly open practices at school…”
“Okay?”
“And the first time I walked into the gym, I…” It feels so ridiculous saying the words out loud, but he should know in case it happens again. “I kind of, um… something triggered inside of me, I guess, and I just ran out of there and waited outside, and I think I mayhave had a panic attack, or at least that’s what it felt like, but I don’t know…”
“Honey,” he coos, reaching over to rub my arm. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to bring up memories of Harley for you, and it kind of felt silly, you know?”
He nods, as if understanding, and I wonder if he’s ever had moments like mine. Not just outside the school gym, but in general. I wonder if he misses Harley the way I do, how even the slightest of memories of his death can cause me to tailspin. “Have you been able to go back since?”
“Yeah, I have.” It’s been a few weeks since that day, since Jace declared me “his girl,” and I’ve attended all the open practices since, each one easier than the last. “I’ve been okay since, but that’s theschool gym…” It’s tiny compared to the arena we’re about to walk into, which, according to Jace, is where all future games will be played. This one is more like the gym at my old school, but this one has multiple courts and bleachers surrounding each one. There are large overhead lights, digital scoreboards. The works. And today, the first Saturday of the pre-season, the league will utilize all five courts. Twelve teams. Two ten-minute halves. Elimination. Last team standing wins.
Twelve teams means a large,loudcrowd, and I don’t know if I’m ready for it.
It’s one thing to have your brother die during a game, but it’s another thing to witness it along with a thousand other people.
The ball was in his hand when it happened, and the crowd was on their feet, cheering him on as his feet left the ground for a simple jump shot, and then…
And then it was silent. For seconds that felt like minutes, Harley just lay there…
“What happened after?” Dad asks, bringing me back to the present. I blink over at him, confused. “After you left the gym and had a panic attack?”
“Jace came out and found me. Then held my hand when we went back in.”
His eyebrows rise, just a tad, a slight smile playing on his lips. “He left practice for you?”
“Yeah,” I say, the muscles in my shoulders slowly unfurling. “He did.”
“So he knows about how you felt walking in there?”
I nod.
“And so he’ll understand if you don’t show tonight?”