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My entire family has been spending this trip harking back to the demise of my dance career, brought about by the ankle I broke in a stupid mole hole at these very games.

She lifts her hand in protest. “I wasn’t going to. I was just thinking...”

She trails off, but she doesn’t need to explain. I know exactly what she’s thinking about.

“When you saw me in the stretcher,” I say, both of us still locked in place even though the crowd has to weave around us, “there was this look on your face...”

She pins me with her gaze, those bottomless brown eyes ready to swallow me up, and I see it again, that exact same look, the one I catch her watching me with every now and then. That day in this field all those years ago was the very first time I ever caught a glimpse of it.

“I knew,” she murmurs. “I didn’t really understand what I knew, but I saw you were hurt, and I just...I knew. I knew you meant way more to me than I was ready to admit back then.”

I squeeze her hand. “I did too.”

The seats are almost totally full now, and a rowdy group of teenage boys nearly knocks us off our feet as they sprint past to grab a row for themselves. The spell between Kenzie and I breaks, and I scan the audience again, spotting my mum waving at us after a couple moments of searching. We make our way over to join her, my dad, and my siblings.

“I hope it doesn’t rain,” my mum says from her spot beside me once we’re settled. She’s decked out in full Murray School swag just like us, complete with her famous ghillie-shaped earrings.

The sky is a typical gloomy Scottish grey, and the air is a little chilly even though it’s the middle of July, but that hasn’t stopped the event from being packed with people. Chatter fills the air, almost loud enough to block out the drone of the piper warming up beside the stage. Yesterday was rainy too, and I can smell the tang of muddy grass trampled by thousands of feet.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” my dad adds from beside my mum. “With all this mud, people are going to have to be extra careful of the mole holes, right, Moira?”

I groan. “You really had to bring that up? Again?”

My mum wags a finger at him to scold him, but he ignores her as he reaches forward to extend his long, strong arm and give Kenzie a high-five.

“Good one, right?” he asks her.

She chuckles. “Pretty good.”

Even though they’re making fun of me, it still makes my chest get all warm and tight to see Kenzie bonding with my family.

I’ve gotten to know her family better too. Last summer, we had weekly dinners and Netflix binges with Chris at Kenzie’s apartment. He’s busier now—the full time job he landed with a landscaping company has him pretty tired out—but we still see him from time to time.

Kenzie’s mom ended up extending her stay with her sister and moved back home just in time for Christmas. Her mental health has had some ups and downs since then, but her and Kenzie’s bond is stronger than ever, and I know no matter what, they’re going to figure things out.

“Oh, here they come!” My mum points at the stage, where a line of girls in velvet jackets with competitor numbers pinned to their kilts are filing into formation.

The first dance of the day is the Fling, and we all cheer and clap for Hailey, one of the students we’re supporting today.

The bagpipes begin, and the dancers bow in unison before rising up on the balls of their feet and then shooting their legs out with startling precision to begin the first step of the dance. These are some of the best dancers in the world, and it shows. Even I can’t take my eyes off the flare of their kilts as they propel themselves higher in the air than should be humanly possible.

They’re onto the third step when I feel Kenzie reach for my hand. I thread my fingers through hers as she leans closer, both of us still watching the stage.

“That used to be us,” she says, just loud enough for me to hear.

“Yeah,” I agree. “So much has changed.”

She chuckles. “Thank god.”

I squeeze her hand and rest my head on her shoulder as the first flecks of rain drop from the sky to land on my cheek.

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