Page 7

After driving down the brightly lit main avenue, he pulled off onto a dirt road for a couple miles.

If he would’ve continued driving north, he would’ve run right into Centre Ice.

I always forgot how close he grew up to our old home rink.

While mostly everyone else moved across the state or country to skate there, he was born here.

“You ever go back to Centre Ice?” I asked.

He squinted straight ahead. “No, not since it folded a while back.”

“Why didn’t anyone buy it?”

He shrugged. “The roof was collapsing, no one wanted to come in and fix it.” He paused for a beat. “It’s set to be demolished soon.”

I didn’t expect those words to hurt as much as they did.

Leaning my head against the window, I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to squelch the urge to cry.

The thought of Centre Ice sitting there all abandoned was sad, the thought of it being completely demolished, wiped from this earth…

it crushed my heart. All my teen years were spent at that rink.

It was the longest I lived and trained anywhere.

Centre Ice was my home. Our home. Mental flashes from the past bombarded my brain: a young Kappy at a lobby picnic table, a math textbook spread out in front of him, teen Mer and Colt sneaking down the hallway to make out during the zam, me teaching Ali how to apply liquid eyeliner in the locker room bathroom.

I had to bite my lip to conceal my emotions.

After a few minutes of bumping along on the dirt road through the dark, Kappy finally pulled to a stop. His truck lights illuminated a small log cabin. With its sizable front porch, forest-green shutters on the windows, and well-maintained garden in front, the house had a cute, homey vibe.

Kappy threw his truck in park, but he didn’t make a move to get out, he just reached forward to adjust the heat in his car.

The silence felt suffocating. While I desperately wanted to get inside to a bed, there’s no way I was marching into his mom’s house without him. “I’ll…uh…pay you back for gas money and stuff,” I said awkwardly. “And maybe tomorrow morning you can just drop me at one of my parents’ hotels.”

His brown eyes roamed my face, making it feel like he had some type of x-ray vision and could see the thoughts inside my head. Shifting uncomfortably, I pulled my hat lower in an attempt to throw him off.

“I’m leaving for Chicago in the morning, why not bum a ride with me?” he asked.

“No,” I automatically answered. “I can’t argue with you for four hours straight, Kappy.”

He frowned. “Who said anything about arguing?”

I shot him a deadpan look.

“Fine.” He sighed. “Let’s call a truce?”

My eyes flashed up to his. My mind flashed through all the times he’d said this through the years.

I was shaking my head in an instant. “Truces always get us in trouble.”

He shot me a wicked grin. “Lucky for you, it’s summer. I’ve got lots of time for trouble.”

“I need a minute,” I blurted out.

With a calm nod, he pushed open his truck door and stepped out.

Laying my head in my hands, I forced myself to breathe and think through my options. Maybe it was the fact that I smacked my head on the airport ground earlier, but I couldn’t stop my mind from spinning. I just felt so lost and completely overwhelmed.

Being locked up in a car with Kappy for four hours sounded like hell, but it’d probably be the easiest and safest way to get back home. Maybe I could just pretend to sleep all four hours back…

When I opened my eyes, I yelped and grabbed my chest because Kappy was waiting right outside the passenger side window, staring at me with his signature grin.

“What are you doing?” I yelled through the glass.

He shrugged his large shoulders. “Giving you a minute. You done?”

“Creep.” I rolled my eyes and shoved the door open, whacking his shoulder in the process.

“That was mean, Piper,” he responded, rubbing his arm.

“You were staring at me,” I said, trying to push past him.

He laughed. “I was waiting for you to stop overthinking.”

“Yeah, well, about five therapists are waiting for that too, so get in line,” I huffed.

But while speed-walking up to the porch, my foot slipped on the slick grass and my body slammed down to the ground.

My ears rang as I stared up at the dark night sky in utter disbelief.

This day just got worse. How the hell was it still getting worse?

Sitting up, I craned my neck to look at my backside and whimpered. I was completely coated with wet mud .

Kappy’s laughter filled the air.

“I can’t catch a fucking break,” I wailed, bringing my knees up and laying my head against them.

“God, that was funny,” he blurted out.

I picked up my head to glare at him. “Truce. Off,” Trying to stand, I slipped back down, making him laugh harder. “I could be hurt, you know.”

“Nah, you’re an athlete, you’re fine,” he said, still chuckling.

“A little help?” I asked.

But instead of reaching out to help me, he sat down on the damp grass next to me.

“W-what are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Laying down for a second.”

I blinked at him. “Are you losing your mind? Is that what this whole nice act is?”

“No.” He chuckled as he stretched out his long body. Folding his arms behind his head, he closed his eyes. “I’m helping you find yours.” He opened one eye to peek at me. “Been wanting to for a couple months now.”

A couple months? Since Grand Prix? “What are you—”

“Stop talking, Piper,” he cut me off, and something in his tone made me pause. Kappy , of all people, was being serious. He was never serious.

Rolling my eyes, I laid back down, mumbling, “Fine, whatever. Not like I have anything else to lose.” But after a beat of silence, I groaned. “What in the world are we doing? I’m cold and tired, and I just—”

“Close your eyes and breathe,” he said, ignoring me.

Sulking in the wet grass, I did what he said. “What now?”

“Just keep breathing. Breathe deep,” he said slowly. “In four, out four. Smell the grass, smell the bonfire still stoking in the back.” A minute passed. “Now look up at the stars. Without all the city lights, you can actually see them here.”

While I hated to admit it, he was right. I laid there studying the immense inky night sky dotted with bright little stars, and it felt like I was shrinking into the grass. We were so still that it felt like I could practically feel the earth spinning beneath me.

“Everything you lost today doesn’t really matter,” he started.

“All your little pieces of plastic with all your money on it? All that can be fixed. And that phone world? The internet, social media, all those online trolls writing mean comments? They don’t exist .

They’re not here. They don’t matter ,” he said in a steel-like voice.

“They can’t get to you. They can’t reach you.

Because you’re here . In the real world.

With the real grass. The only thing that’s real is you, a living and breathing person, touching and smelling the living and breathing earth.

There are no expectations, no standards, nothing to perfect or portray. Drop it all. It’s just you and me, P.”

I covered my eyes with my forearm, and I was glad he was lying flat on his back and couldn’t see me.

Because his words hit me right in the chest. For the first time in two months, it all stopped.

The world stopped spinning out of control.

He was right.

No one could say a word to me.

Not here, where it was just the two of us.

For the first time in years, I felt myself absorb the peaceful silence.

And after this horrible day, after this horrible month, two months, really, I started crying.

It started as silent little tears running down my face but then evolved into full-on sobs that I couldn’t seem to stop. It was the first time I let myself cry since the Grand Prix disaster.

And he definitely heard it, but he thankfully didn’t call attention to it. He just reached out and grasped my hand and kept lying beside me, looking up at the stars.

I’m not sure how long we laid there, but I was frozen by the time we stood up, and I’m sure my eyes were all puffy and lined in red. I reached down for my hat that had fallen off and tugged it back on, hoping to hide how hard I’d been crying.

We quietly walked up to the porch together, but right as I reached the door, his arm snaked around my waist, pulling me into his chest so he could get the door first. “I’m glad you’re back,” he said softly, his voice tickling my ear, making goosebumps snake down my neck. “I missed you.”

My body practically stutter-stepped in shock.

But he took my hesitation as a chance to snatch my hat and throw it over his shoulder behind us.

“Hey!” I gasped.

His face lit up with his usual trouble-maker grin. “Montreal? Really? That’s not allowed in this house. You should know better, P,” he snickered.

I threw my arms down by my side, practically stomping. “I look like shit. I don’t want your mom to—”

His eyebrows slammed down. “What? No, you look like yourself.”

I turned and was way too close to him. Our chests were practically touching. I shoved his chest back, but of course he didn’t budge an inch. “That’s mean.”

“How is that mean?” he snapped.

“Because—”

The door flew open, making us pause.

“Piper!” Teresa burst out. She was dressed in plaid pj’s, a comfy looking robe, and Ugg slippers.

She looked almost the same as I remembered, just with a few more wrinkles around the eyes and with a little more gray peeking out at the top of her dark hair.

Her face morphed into a look of sympathy.

“Richard texted me and filled me in. You’ve been through quite an ordeal, huh?

You need some tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?

” Her gaze drifted over me. “You’re shivering.

” She looked at her son with accusation in her eyes. “Why is she shivering, Richard?”

“Yeah, Richard,” I elbowed him, making an oof pop out of his mouth. He grabbed my elbow to stop me, but I ripped it away from him.