Page 22 of Blade
Hugo was twenty-one, and he’d been taking orders for the beer, vodka, and gin—Jack Daniel’s for Kayla—over a mountain of pancakes smothered in Nutella. His eyes had remained fixed on the door to the kitchen, where Edie was inside scooping leftover batter into plastic Tupperware, loading drink cups into the dishwasher, until he saw her approaching and told them all toshhh! Shut up!
Mio couldn’t stand those boys. She’d warned Ana to stay away from them.
“You still have a lot to learn about this place. The Orphans—all of you—you’re just playing a game of being grown-up.”
Maybe that was true, but Ana felt like she’d been through a transformation. No more crying in the closet down in the basement. No more sleeping in the Orphans’ room every time Mio was away.
It had not been easy.
There were nights when she’d woken up and lost track of where she was, expecting to be back home in her room, Connie clip-clopping down the hall with a scarf around her neck, Carl humming a song from behind the bathroom door, the water running while he shaved his beard. There were, it turned out, endless memories like these that had to be seen and felt to then be mourned and sent scurrying away, because home was not like that anymore. There was no clip-clopping. No humming. She was certain, though she had no idea what had come in its place.
And while she lay there, alone, she’d taught herself the trick of making a list—all of the things she’d learned, all of the things she’d conquered since she’d arrived at The Palace and Avery Hall.
She could now manage a bank account, shave her legs, use a tampon, fix the chain on her bike that was always slipping off. She’d found comfort with the Orphans—her new family that did new thingstogether. Things that filled her up, like gossiping about the boys downstairs or driving around town for no reason at all, just because. Singing at the top of their lungs. Jolene’s perfume. The clove cigarettes that lingered on Kayla’s clothing. And Indy—everything about Indy had started to feel like home. Her new home.
“Don’t go to the field,” Mio said again. Her face was serious as she stared at Ana, eye to eye because even at eighteen, Mio was not a centimeter taller. She shook her head quickly, her short black bob swinging side to side.
“Nothing good is happening there. Do you understand?”
Ana nodded, though she didn’t understand. Everyone was going to the field that night. It was the last night of the summer program, which was ending with a big show. And it was also the last night before the start of school. The entire town of Echo would be there—not just the skaters.
“We can watch a movie instead,” Mio promised. “I’ll drive us to get ice cream first.”
But Mio had never been to the field. It was just a bunch of kids drinking and messing around. It had already become one of the things that felt good to Ana, simply because it was something the Orphans shared. Mio was wrong—and besides that, Ana’s mind was on the solo that she was going to be performing in less than two hours.
She told Mio, “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
Mio smiled, but with concern, maybe even disapproval. “Oh—Ana. Be careful. Please! I’ll see you at the rink?”
Ana watched as Mio bounced out of the room, glad to have that out of the way. She had to get to the rink.
She headed next down the hall to assess the situation with the Orphans.
“What are you guys doing? Costumes and makeup are starting in five minutes!”
Kayla looked up from her bed, where she was laying out clothes for later, after the show, when they would forget about skating and go to the field.
“Chill.” She plucked a T-shirt from the pile and set it aside on her pillow with a pair of jean shorts.
For Ana, this night was more about the show than the party. They’d been rehearsing for two weeks, the entire training program virtually halted so they could learn their group numbers, choreograph their solos, not to mention an entire day to transform the larger of the two rinks into a stage. Props and lighting and a curtain blocking off a quarter of the ice for staging each number. They’d already had two dress rehearsals to get out the kinks.
The show always borrowed themes from Disney movies, recreating the story with skating numbers set to their songs, with costumes for the different characters. This year it wasPirates of the Caribbean. Ana had never seen it but assumed it was self-explanatory. Pirates. Their ship. On an ocean.
Ana had a solo—ninety seconds alone on the ice, in front of every skater, coach, parent, and judge who lived nearby and came to watch. Tonight. In two hours. And now they were already officially late for costumes and makeup because Jolene and Kayla were obsessed with the field.
Jolene was at the mirror, slowly brushing her hair. It wasn’t even pinned up yet, and with Jolene’s hair that could take forever. She turned and smiled, a seductive expression sweeping over her face.
“Up or down tonight?” She grabbed the thick auburn waves and gave them a twist and a pull to the back of her head, paused, then let them fall around her face.
Kayla glanced, then decided. “Down.”
Which satisfied Jolene, now shoving it all into a band, a sloppy ponytail that was not going to work with her costume. It had a headpiece, and all her hair needed to be hidden inside it. They’d have to fix that at the rink.
Indy’s voice echoed from down the hall. “We’re late!” she said as she burst into the room. She ran to her unmade bed and grabbed the bag she’d packed for the day. “My mother is going to kill me!”
“I know!” Ana was grateful for the reinforcement.
“Fucking Patrice,” Kayla said, a little louder.