Page 13

Colt, who’d really started to grow on me because of how well he treated my best friend, rearranged it so we’d all meet at a pond for outdoor skating for a surprise birthday party for Mer.

Patrick drove Ali and I over to the designated party location, and we all sat there in shock for a second.

The boys made it look like a little winter wonderland.

Construction lights, which were plugged into JP’s old pickup truck, illuminated the boys while they cleaned snow off a portion of the frozen pond.

Off to the side of the pond, a large bonfire was already burning, a boombox was blasting top hits, and Colt had set up multiple camping chairs and a table, which held smores stuff, a large thermos, and styrofoam cups.

After lacing up our skates, we glided onto the rough ice. With the snow lightly falling and the daylight slowly fading, it was a beautiful scene. This pond was pretty secluded, guarded by tall pine trees reaching up into the sky, with only a couple of lit up cabins dotting the shoreline.

Colt brought old hockey sticks for all of us, and after flying around the ice freely for a couple minutes, the boys started a pick-up game .

At one point, JP passed me the puck, and I had an open lane to the net.

Skating fast, I quickly made my way to the net, but when I was about five feet away, Kappy shot past me and turned backwards, playing defense.

“Where ya gonna go, Viper?” he teased with a wicked grin.

I tried to stickhandle past him, but my stickhandling skills were very poor, so he easily stripped the puck from me with a laugh.

“All Swedish, no Finnish!” He cackled at his own joke.

“You couldn’t just let me get it?” I complained. “You get goals all the time!”

He laughed harder as he easily flicked the puck into the net. “And that is how you score, Viper.”

His teasing frustrated me so much that I dropped my stick and tried to shove him.

“She dropped her stick!” JP shouted.

“Oh man! You know what that means!” Colt hollered.

“Guys, stop,” Mer said, but even she was laughing.

After doing an over-the-top celly, Kappy swarmed up to me, his edges cutting deep into the pond ice. “You wanna go?” He wagged his eyebrows and dropped his own stick.

“Okay, you don’t need to—” The rest of my sentence was cut off by a strangled cry. Kappy grabbed me up and sped to the side of the pond. He dumped the both of us into the snowbank.

“Ugh! Dick!” I cried, scrambling away from him and brushing the cold snow off my face. “That was mean .”

“You’re way too fun to mess with,” he said, then stayed in the snowbank making a snow angel.

Halfway through the next game, pain started radiating up my shins, making it feel like my bones were splintering into a million pieces.

I tried ignoring it for as long as I could, because I was actually having normal teenage fun for once, but a nagging voice in the back of my head yelled that I was being irresponsible.

“You good?” Patrick asked as I skated past him toward the edge of the pond.

Faking a smile, I nodded.

“I’ll quit with you,” he said, moving to skate beside me.

‘No, I’m good.” I pushed at his chest. “You’re having fun, stay.” I smiled.

Patrick looked at war with himself. He grew up in both sports— figure skating and hockey—and while his older brothers went the hockey route, he stuck to Ice dance with me. But sometimes I’d catch him watching hockey with a wistful look on his face, making me wonder if he had regrets.

“I’m good, promise. Go show those hockey boys what you’re made of,” I said with a smirk.

Balancing on the edge of the rink, I took off one skate at a time, then immediately shoved each frozen foot into an Ugg boot.

Making my way to the bonfire, I poured myself some hot chocolate before grabbing a blanket and sitting to watch everyone.

After a couple minutes, Kappy stole a puck and stick-handled his way to the edge of the rink toward me.

He was dressed in two pairs of sweatpants, a hoodie, and a puffer coat, with a USA Hockey beanie pulled low over his forehead.

He was completely bundled up, just like the rest of us, but he still managed to look effortlessly cool, which didn’t make sense and didn’t seem fair.

He came to a stop at the edge of the rink and leaned his chin on the butt of his stick. His troublemaker eyes scanned my face. “Truce?” His warm breath hung in the air in front of him.

Seeing that the rest of the group was busy with a pick-up game, I shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Dropping his stick, he hiked over the snow in his beat-up pond skates and plopped in the chair next to me. Man-spreading his legs, he took up way too much space next to me.

I poured another cup of hot chocolate and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He blew on the top of the drink. When he looked back at me, he pushed his beanie up a bit and his face creased with concern. “Your legs hurt?”

“No, why?” I automatically snapped. Panic flared to life in my chest. Hide it, deny it, tell no one, a voice whispered in my head. “That’s a stupid question, why would you even ask that?”

A confused look crossed his face and his eyes darted around, searching for some kind of clarification. “Oh, sorry?” he asked more than said. Staying quiet, he started pulling at the laces of his skates to take them off.

Fear snaked down my spine. No one could know about my pain.

No one. If I told him and then he went and blabbed about it and word got back to my coaches or parents, they’d make me stop training.

Patrick and I couldn’t afford to lose momentum.

Things were going really well for us this season.

We actually had a shot at taking Junior Nationals this year.

After a minute, Richard stopped unlacing his skates and pinned me with a hard, unwavering stare. “Actually, no, I’m not sorry, Piper. I asked a question, I wasn’t being rude. Every single time we’re all together, you have to sit down.”

Shock rocked into me. He noticed . But he was talking about this way too loudly. I tried to shush him, but he kept going.

“No, Piper, I’m saying this.” His eyebrows pinched together, and his jaw clenched.

He was mad, no, furious . “The first day we met, you said your legs hurt. I’m not sorry for being concerned.

And that day…” A muscle ticked angrily in his jaw.

“That day you didn’t want to dance with me in the lobby, I thought it was because of me, but I went over it a million times.

” He rubbed at his nose. “You didn’t look pissed at me, you looked sad.

It’s because you’re hurt, aren’t you? You’re hurt, and you don’t want to tell anyone. ”

I immediately looked over my shoulder at the rest of the group to make sure no one noticed us. They were still playing, completely unaware of his little outburst. Blowing out a breath of relief, I turned back to the bonfire, but I could feel his eyes on me.

“I’m not gonna drop it, Piper. So you better—”

“Yeah,” I whispered tersely, cutting him off. “You’re right, okay? Is that what you want to hear?” His gaze dropped to my legs, and his nose flared with a breath. “Do not tell anyone, got it? If word gets out, I’ll know it was you, and you’ll be sorry,” I threatened.

His chest expanded with an angry breath. “What’s going on?”

“I have compartment syndrome,” I said in a rush.

He shook his head. His eyes were serious and full of concern for once. “What is that?”

“Basically the muscles are too big for my leg. It’s from overtraining,” I whispered.

“Hulk girl.” He smirked.

I shook my head. “It’s not funny, not at all.

” My hands moved under the blanket to rub my calves.

“The only way to fix the situation is to stop training, and that hasn’t even helped in the past. It always comes back.

My parents said if it keeps hurting, they’ll pull me.

So keep your mouth shut about it,” I said in a harsh voice.

I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.

He frowned as he studied me, then finally nodded, making the tension in my chest finally ease.

We sat there in silence, listening to the static-y boombox. A minute later, he angled his chair toward mine so that his knees encased my own, then he pulled off his gloves and reached under my blanket

I immediately pulled away from him, but his eyes locked on mine. “Let me, Piper.”

Swallowing hard, I relented. While I wanted to push him away, his hands were larger and stronger, and the way his warm hands kneaded my muscles honestly felt so amazing that my eyes fell closed for a second. It felt like finally laying on warm sand after swimming in a cold lake for hours.

My eyes scanned his serious face. “You’re not gonna badger me to go to the doctors?”

His jaw hardened. “No, I hate all that medical stuff. Not afraid of clowns or any of that kinda shit, but doctors and hospitals…” He shivered. “Hospitals scare me.”

Now I frowned. “What if you break a bone or something?”

“Jesus.” He reared back and reached down to knock on some of the firewood. “Don’t jinx me like that, Viper.”

I shrugged. “Just saying…You play a dangerous sport, what if you have to—”

“Hospitals are where people go to die,” he said with a shocking finality. “So, no, thank you.”

“That’s harsh.” I squinted at him. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He used his hand to cross his heart.

“You’re insane, Richard.”

His deep chuckle filled the air between us. “Yeah, but you’re not just finding that out, are ya?”

Smirking, I looked away. Coldplay’s “Yellow” came on, and I wistfully watched the little love story play out on the rink in front of us. Mer pulled into a layback and Colt watched her like she hung the moon.