Page 59 of Fake Skating

It’s for the best.

I kept telling myself that as I walked home in the cold, justifying my behavior in my head, but the words didn’t help when I couldn’t stop picturing his face.

God, the way he looked at me.

How was I ever going to stop crying when my brain kept showing it to me on repeat?

Every time I started to get it together, to stop sniveling as I stumbled in the direction of my house, I pictured the absolute shock and betrayal on his face when he said, Are you breaking up with me? and then I was sobbing.

When I got home, I did my best to pull myself together before going inside. Hopefully I could sneak away to my room and lick my wounds before my mom got back from the store.

But when I walked in the door, she was sitting on the couch in the living room, looking worried.

For a second I thought she knew.

But then she said, “Honey, there’s been a slight change of plans.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I said, toeing off my boots, too exhausted to even play a guessing game.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, her eyes moving all over my blotchy face.

There was no way she couldn’t see I’d been crying, but I was too drained to bother with acknowledging it.

“What’s the plan change?” I said, not wanting to discuss how very not okay I was.

“Well,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed together in worry. “Your dad had to catch an earlier flight, so he wanted me to let you know he’ll call you when he gets back to Germany.”

She cleared her throat, and the house was deafeningly quiet as that sentence settled over me.

“Why did he have to catch an earlier flight?” I asked, dropping my coat on the bench next to the door, knowing the answer even as I asked it. “Did something happen?”

“I, um, I don’t really know the details,” she said, shrugging. “I think he just wanted to get a head start; you know how long those international flights are.”

I nodded, surprised I could feel this heaviness in my chest again, the massive weight of disappointment. I would’ve thought that after what had happened at Alec’s, I’d be tapped out on emotion.

“Did he say…” I almost couldn’t bring myself to finish the question, but then I pushed it out because I just needed the confirmation. “He’s not taking the Offutt assignment, is he?”

My mom looked like she didn’t know how to answer.

“Is he?” I repeated. “Come on, don’t sugarcoat it—it’s fine.”

“He’s staying in Germany.” She crossed her arms and said, “I’m sorry, honey.”

I nodded, the words Grandpa Mick shouted at my dad last night coming back to me as if I’d committed them to memory.

If you gave a damn, you’d take any fucking assignment in this country to be closer to her.

You’d move to Offutt, even if you hated it, just so you could see her every once in a while.

You’d take any little crumb you could get because she’s your daughter and she matters to you.

“So he just left,” I said, swallowing hard because it felt like there was a marble stuck in my throat. “Without even calling or talking to me first.”

He was my dad, and he was the colonel, but that seemed like something a pouty kid would do, leaving without a goodbye after not getting his way.

“C’mere, honey,” she said, patting the sofa beside her.

I came over and sat beside her, and it felt so good to have her wrap her arms around me. I was all out of tears, thank God , but I closed my eyes and snuggled into her comfort.

“Your dad loves you so much,” she said, kissing the top of my head. “And I will never hate him, because he’s your dad. I want you to have him in your life.”

“I know,” I said, feeling like such garbage for not telling her about his plans sooner.

“But he was way out of line, trying to get you to move away in that way. You know that, right?”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said, surprised to discover I actually still had more tears left inside me. I swiped them away and told her, “I love living here with you. I think I was so surprised that he was actually trying that I just… I don’t know, didn’t want to shut it down, maybe.”

“I can understand that,” she said, patting my arm. “But trust me when I tell you that life is easiest when you’re honest. It’s not always fun, but it’s definitely easier.”

I nodded but couldn’t talk, because that made me picture Alec’s face when he said, Why don’t you tell me the truth?

“ Do you really love it here, kid?” she asked. “Just because I do doesn’t mean you have to, you know.”

“No, I really do love it here,” I admitted, but suddenly I was crying again.

“Oh, honey, what is it?” my mom asked, putting both her hands on my cheeks and examining my face. “Tell me what’s the matter.”

I hiccuped out a sob and gave her a very vague we broke up story.

“You can’t call him and work out whatever this is?” she asked, which was a fair question when I’d left out the important details.

“Nu-uh,” I said, blowing my nose.

I ached to do that, to run back to his house and tell him the truth, but that would be selfish. That would be me acting like my father, putting what I wanted over everything else, and I wasn’t going to do that.

I couldn’t do that.

When I pictured Alec’s scared face last night, when he thought he might’ve ruined everything, I knew it was for the best.

“It’s over for good,” I said definitively, like I’d never meant anything more. “And I’m glad.”

On Monday morning, I told my mom I was sick. I was pretty sure she knew it was a lie, but she just gave me a look and called the office.

I stayed in my room all day, buried under the covers, watching mindless reality TV shows on repeat. I heard my grandpa moving around downstairs, but it wasn’t until the doorbell rang at six o’clock that it even felt like he knew I was there.

“Dani, get down here,” he yelled. “Your friends are here.”

I gasped and scrambled over to the window, and when I saw Cassie’s car, I was equal parts relieved and disappointed not to see Burrito.

Joke’s on you, Grandpa—I don’t have any friends of my own, I thought. They’re actually his.

I didn’t want to face them, but I supposed it’d be better if they yelled at me here than at school. I didn’t even bother looking in the mirror because I knew what I’d see. My hair was a rat’s nest and I’d been wearing my pajamas for over twenty-four hours: not pretty at all.

But I didn’t care.

I walked down the stairs, my stomach full of dread.

But when I hit the bottom of the steps, I was surprised to see Grandpa Mick smiling.

“—so you did a good job, but she couldn’t stop when she had to switch directions.”

Cassie was talking about boot hockey, being typical hilarious Cassie, and my grandpa looked charmed.

“Okay, girl,” Lillie said, smiling as she looked over at me from where she was sitting beside Liz on the couch. “I thought you might’ve been playing hooky, but you really do look awful.”

Let the roast begin.

“You don’t look awful,” Cassie said. “You just look… comfortable .”

“I agree with Lillie,” Grandpa Mick said. “That’s some kinda hair.”

“Gee, thanks.” God, I don’t want to face them. I was so nervous to be alone with them, terrified they hated me. Because they no doubt heard that I broke up with Alec and probably wondered what kind of a terrible girlfriend would do such a thing during the state tournament.

They have to hate me.

And that made my heart hurt almost as much as leaving Alec had.

I’d always known it would happen, but the thought of no longer having them as friends made my chest hurt.

“You have to be better by tomorrow,” Cassie said, gesturing for me to sit on the other side of her. “I don’t care if you’re puking your guts out, you’re going to be with me on that bus.”

“What?” I plopped down between her and Liz. “What bus?”

That made her give me a weird look. “The game is Wednesday, Co-Manager Who Should Know This, but we leave tomorrow.”

“You didn’t know that?” Grandpa Mick asked, his eyes narrowed.

“I mean, I…”

I trailed off, not really knowing what to say, but I was saved by my grandpa’s phone ringing.

“I gotta take this,” he said, then stood and walked out of the room.

“Okay, you need to talk fast,” Cassie murmured, turning to face me and lowering her voice.

“Kyle told us what happened after the game,” Lillie said.

“He did?” I asked, wondering what he’d told them.

“I can’t believe Zeus kicked Ben Worthington’s ass,” she said, talking fast and a little too loud. “It’s all the guys could talk about. Kyle thinks that since we’re playing St. John’s Academy on Wednesday, Ben probably pissed him off on purpose to try to make it so Zeus couldn’t play.”

Wait. We were going to be playing St. John’s in the quarterfinal game?

How had I missed that?

It made even more sense now, why Benji wanted me to do it.

God, I hate him so much.

“The weird thing is that nothing happened,” Cassie said, grabbing the remote off the coffee table and turning on the TV. “He didn’t end up calling the cops.”

“Vin thinks it’s because the St. John’s guys were drunk at the time. All I know is that everybody hates him, so this is the perfect scenario, knowing he got his ass kicked but no one’s on the hook for it.”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling unsettled but relieved to have confirmation that he actually didn’t call the police.

“According to Kyle, this could’ve been a really big deal because Zeus is eighteen now. He was a minor when he was arrested the first time, so even though the charges were dropped, it could’ve shown, like, a pattern or something.”

“Wait—Alec got arrested ?” I repeated.

“It was a long time ago,” Cassie assured me, looking like she was worried she’d blabbed a secret.

“How long ago?”

“Back when Z’s dad had his accident, so a couple years, I guess. They got in a fight at a party, and the next day the cops showed up at the hospital and arrested him for assault and battery.”

“Wait. They arrested him at the hospital ?” I asked in horror.