Page 30

T oday, the world feels heavier yet clearer than it’s ever been. Like I’ve finally been handed the missing puzzle pieces that I was searching for, for what felt like forever.

But now that I have them, it’s like everything has clicked into place.

Malik’s hatred for me all those years wasn’t for nothing. Was it directed at the wrong person? Sure. But at least there was a reason I can finally understand.

A part of me—the smallest sliver of my being—wants to think that my father’s innocent. The little girl he used to tuck into bed and tell made-up stories to … she wants to believe in him like she used to.

But I can’t hide from the feeling in my gut—that he’s not the man who once raised me.

He lost himself somewhere along the way, became consumed by the world around him and the chaos of his own creation. It’s sad because, deep down, I miss him, the version of him I used to know.

I never realized you could mourn someone who was still alive. But I think I started doing that a long time ago. It’s hard to move on completely when every now and then, you get glimpses of the person you once knew in their eyes, one that you desperately want to cling to.

He’s who I think about while I perform this piano piece, Liebestraum No. 3 by Liszt. His face is the one haunting me with each note and chord that echo through the small room.

The music board joined our Individual Study in Music Performance class this morning, putting each of us on the spot to perform. They want to confirm that those invited to the showcase deserve their place. They aren’t just going to let anyone on the stage, and with Rupert’s scandal, I’m sure they want to make sure that we were chosen for our talents alone.

As the final note fades out, applause breaks through the silence around me, goose bumps chilling my arms.

Rising from my seat, I bow my head and look up at the three board members, awaiting their feedback.

The woman in the middle, Martha Schumann—a legend—speaks first. “It’s a shame we hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing you perform until now. You are truly exceptional.” She pauses, whispering to the other staff members. Then she continues, with a big smile on her face, “Please see me in my office after class today.”

“Okay,” I murmur, taking my seat at my assigned desk with Sunny.

The next performer takes their seat on the piano bench.

Nerves rattle my bones a bit as we wait for each minute to pass by. Everyone else gets immediate feedback and a yes or no to the showcase. Most of which are noes, but that’s not surprising, given this is an entry-level class.

When we’re finally dismissed, I follow the three board members down the hall toward Martha’s office, I presume. Once we pass through the ornate wooden door, they close it behind me and offer me to sit. I sit down in one of the velvet Victorian chairs, and Sunny sits between my legs, as if she’s also eagerly waiting for what they’re going to say.

The male professor, Sergei Horowitz, speaks first. “Alora, where have you played before this? Did you study anywhere else?”

Slowly, I shake my head. “No, sir. Only in the privacy of my home.”

Martha leans forward over her desk. “Firstly, we are going to need to drastically change your course load. There’s no need for you to be in most of your classes. You’re far beyond their levels.”

She digs something out of her desk and slides an envelope over to me. “Secondly, we would be honored to have you perform in our showcase.”

Relief washes over me at her offer, and excitement builds within me at the idea of switching into harder classes.

I couldn’t help but think that perhaps the only reason I had originally been invited was because of that creep’s desire for me. But this one is all because of me, and he can’t take that away.

I take the envelope and gently hold it in my lap. “Thank you so much.”

She nods sharply and smiles.

Sergei clears his throat. “We would also like to apologize on behalf of the department. If there’s anything we can do to make you more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

I nod, my mind racing. I’m wholeheartedly overwhelmed in the best of ways at everything that just transpired. “Thank you.”

I’m not sure what else to say. It’s not like it was their fault, and I’m sure they’re just as angry as I am.

Carol Backhaus, the third member who’s been waiting in silence, adjusts in her seat. “Alora, you have the makings of being someone truly extraordinary in any path you wish to take. This may be too personal to share”—she swallows hard with a smile on her lips and sadness in her eyes—“but I knew your mom a very long time ago.”

My heart twists. “You did?”

She nods, pressing her lips together. “We attended the same university. I know she graduated with a business degree, but she hadn’t started out in that major. She was originally a music major—for singing.” Her eyes gloss over as she drifts back in time. “Gosh, she was such a gifted vocalist.”

Memories start firing off in my mind of her singing me to sleep, singing in the car, singing all the time. She really was incredible. I just never knew it was something she had pursued.

“Do you know why she changed her major?” I murmur. I don’t know why she’d ever give that up.

She shakes her head. “I don’t. But I think that she would be so proud of you for being right where you are.”

My eyes burn and well up with tears. “Thank you.”

She leaves me with one more statement. “Don’t confuse your success with your legacy. You earned the spot in the showcase on your own merit.”

* * *

After leaving Martha’s office, Sunny and I spend the afternoon lounging around in our dorm room and watching some of our favorite movies.

Malik is with his team most of today. They have a game tonight and have been watching tape and doing … whatever the hell it is they do before games.

June will be hanging out with Sunny while I go to the game. Blair and Lumi will be going, too, and it’ll be nice to have some company.

My phone rings, and I answer a call from Fauna. “Hello?”

“There’s my angel. How are you doing?” she asks, and my chest warms when I hear her voice.

“Doing well,” I answer, knowing I have a lot to fill my aunts in on, but I also know that this second probably isn’t the right time.

“Glad to hear it! Well, we’ll be flying into town Thursday for the gala this weekend. When can we steal you away for dinner?”

“Thursday will be good.” Butterflies dance in my stomach. “Can I still bring someone with me?”

She gasps in playful shock. “Is this that same boy?”

“Yeah,” I murmur.

“Then of course. And what is their name?” she asks, and I bite my bottom lip.

I can’t exactly say Malik because they’re wellllll aware of what happened between us in high school.

“It’ll be a surprise,” are the only words I can manage to form.

She hums. “So secretive.” But then she agrees instantly. “Fine, you and your secret special someone meet us tomorrow at six. I’ll send you the name of the restaurant.”

“Okay.” I smile.

“I’m excited to squeeze you, my little peanut,” she coos.

My aunts are everything to me, and they deserve the same goodness that they put out into the world.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Lore.” She blows a kiss into the phone before ending the call.

Well, dinner is going to be interesting. We have a lot to catch up on. And a lot to plan.

* * *

Wearing Malik’s name on my back has me feeling giddy in an entirely new way as I walk into the arena with Blair and Lumi. Because right now, I’m not wearing it with uncertainty; I’m wearing it, knowing I’m his.

We get settled into our seats, and warm-ups are underway. I find him on the ice instantly, recognizing the movements of his body as he skates. I could blindly find him in a room full of people.

“Excuse me,” a woman mutters, wanting to walk down our aisle.

We stand up, and a man and woman slide past us, sitting directly to my left.

The woman next to me murmurs to the guy, “Do you see him?”

“There he is.” The man points. “Number fifty-five.”

Fifty-five? I look at my arm and remember I’m wearing that same number on my jersey. Who are they?

“He’s going to be so surprised when he sees us.” She giggles.

Are they … the ones who took him in?

Is it weird if I ask?

Malik shoots a puck into the net and turns toward me, looking up in the stands and waving. Lifting my hand, I wave back as my stomach flutters.

But I’m not the only one who waves.

The couple raises their hands in the air, and as if we’re a reflection of one another, we turn to each other with a look of confusion.

And then we look back at Malik, whose hand is in the air with surprise. Pointing at all of us, he flicks his hands toward each other, and I read what he’s trying to say, turning to face the couple.

“Hi. You must be Darius and Alicia?” I ask politely as they watch me with curiosity.

They nod, and Alicia smiles, reminding me of how my aunt Flora lights up when she grins. “Yes, we are. And what’s your name?”

Sticking my hand out, I shake the man’s hand, then hers. “I’m Alora.”

“Alora …” Darius mumbles my name with recognition, his face flat.

Alicia rolls her eyes at him. “Ignore my husband. He’s clearly not putting this together as fast as I am.” Her eyes fall to the jersey I’m wearing. “It seems you guys aren’t enemies anymore.”

I chuckle, realizing they know exactly who I am—or at least have heard of me through Malik. “No, not quite.”

Lumi butts in. “They’re dating.”

“He gave you his jersey.” Darius’s voice is filled with emotion. “You must be someone incredibly special to him.”

That piques my interest. “What do you mean?”

Alicia sucks in a breath as Darius continues, “He’s never given his jersey out before.”

“Not to anyone?” I ask, goose bumps skating along my arms.

He shakes his head. “Never. Not once his entire high school career. The only person who ever wore his jersey was Micah. But once he lost him, he never did it again.”

My eyes burn, and I blink back tears from forming in my eyes. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Their stares are full of respect and adoration.

Darius smiles at me with wetness in his eyes. “Thank you for getting him to open up again. Until this moment, I almost thought that would never happen.”

A tear rolls down my cheek. “It was a team effort from both Malik and I.”

Darius laughs, a sob breaking free from his throat. “I know Malik. I’m sure it was one hell of a job. But we’re grateful nonetheless.”

I laugh as the brightness dims in the arena. The light show begins on the ice as the build-up song plays loudly through the speakers, cutting off our conversation. The announcer begins shouting into the mic, announcing each starter as they skate out onto the ice and take their place on the blue line.

Alicia reaches over and squeezes my hand with hers. Looking up to her eyes, I find them brimmed with tears. I can see the love they have for him, like he’s their son.

She mouths, Thank you .

I nod and squeeze her hand back, enjoying the moment.

After the anthem is performed, they set up for the start of the game. The Legends versus the Kraken. Blair, my resident hockey expert, fills me in on all the stats of the team and the likely outcome. Honestly, it’s so impressive that she can keep everything straight in her mind.

Apparently, the Kraken have two of the top scorers in all of college hockey on their team. Which doesn’t sound super beneficial to us. But she assures me that Griffin and Dean are the best defensive duo, and the Kraken will have one hell of a time trying to score on them.

She’s right.

By the end of the second period, the score is one to zero, with us in the lead.

After a quick bathroom break and concession stop, I head back to my seat.

Someone grabs my wrist, and I’m suddenly pulled inside of a room, the door shutting behind me.

“Ahh!”

But the moment his scent fills my nose, I relax.

“Hey, Bug.”

“What are you doing here?” I gasp, playfully slapping his chest.

“I needed this.” He grabs my jaw and tilts my head back at the same time his lips crash down onto mine.

He breathes me in with his kiss, devouring me as his tongue starts dancing with mine.

I moan into his mouth, and he groans, his fingers grabbing my waist. After getting his fill, he pulls back like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

“Wait for me in the lobby with Blair and Lumi after the game. Please .”

He kisses me again, and I melt into a puddle.

Pulling away, I bite down on my tingling lip. “What’s in it for me?”

He squints at me. “Oh, really? Just seeing me isn’t enough?”

Cocking my head to the side, I playfully wince. “I don’t know.”

Suddenly, I’m airborne, my legs wrapping around his waist as if it were their most natural position.

Pressing my back against the wall, he claims my lips with his. “How about I promise to love you forever?”

“That easy?” I challenge him between kisses.

He nods, his lips pressed into mine. “The easiest thing I’ll ever do is love you forever, Alora.”

My chest bursts with joy, and I kiss him ferociously as the world around us seems to fade away.

I’ve lived my life safely, following orders from my father, being the perfect student and the adoring daughter. I did those things for my dad, my teachers, and my peers to earn their love. But I don’t have to earn Malik’s; he loves me for free.