Page 11

chapter eleven

i'm bambi on ice. literally.

I 'd never imagined feeling so guilty about grabbing a coffee on my walks before, but here I was, holding back tears as I stared into latte art growing cold in my hands.

But I suppose it was because everything still feels so wrong.

Normal life feels wrong.

It feels like I shouldn’t be going aboutmy daily routine when I’m dying on theinside. Going to class and coming home to the girls feels so wrong that I almost want to stop and sit right here in the corridor, and only start moving when enough time has passed that people don’t judge me for being normal when my life is anything but.

It’s hard to explain if you’ve neverfelt it, but calling it survivor's guilt feels right. How the final girl feels as she sits in the back of an ambulance after all her friends have been hunted, and slaughtered. You constantly ask yourself why it wasn’t you. What had I done to live and my dad had done to die? Was it just his health? Was it planned to be this way? Was it mom?

You ask yourself these questions overand over again until you remember thatfinding the answer won’t bring him back. So ins tead you go back to reading, or studying, or grabbing coffee, until you remember how wrong it feels to be getting on with your life, and then you lose your footing and suddenly you’re sinking into that pit of guilt again.

It’s a never-ending story. A tale as oldas the sun. And one I was sure I’d neverbe able to put down.

That’s all I was thinking about as I pulled doors that led to the Lions rink. Now ice-cold coffee still wedged in my hands.

I had to pull myself together, just for the next hour, at least.Because I had more pressing problems to worry about right now, namely the six foot something man circling the rink.

I quickly walked to the edge of the iceand sat perched on the edge of theempty bleachers, watching Finn weave across the rink. He wasn’t showy when he skated, not the kind to draw attention on purpose, but the way he moved—powerful, deliberate, effortless—commanded it anyway.

He scraped his stick back andpummeled a puck into the back of the net, then again, the sound ricocheting off the glass. Curving to a stop, his blades made a little wave of ice. For a split second, I forgot why I was here. I forgot everything except the sharp lines of his movements and the grin that tugged at his mouth as he straightened.

When he turned around just enough, his eyes found me, and the trancebroke, but his smile only got bigger, ifanything.

He skated toward the edge, scrapingto a stop until he was perched over the barrier. “Thoughts?” He breathed.

I s hrugged, stretching up an headingtoward him, hoping my face didn’t betray the way my stomach had twisted with treacherous butterflies. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” He pressed a hand to hischest. “You wound me, Greene.”

I rolled my eyes, grippingmy skates to my chest. The blades clinked faintly together. "I'm sure you'll get over it."

Ignoring the quip and giving me nothing but a small smirk, his eyes dropped the skates, then slowlyraised them back to me. “Ready for this?”

I hesitated. My fingers tightened, the cold air biting at my cheeks like a warning. Finn noticed—I could tell by the way his teasing softened into something quieter.

My head tilted. “Are you sure we can’tstart with you first? How great doescoffee at Flo’s and a four-hundred-page textbook on vocab sound?”

He shook his head as he skated back,spinning idly before dropping his warm gaze back onto me. “Sounds better than great, but you know the longer you put this off, the harder it’ll be.”

In an instant, my head fell. My heart was beating faster by the second. So fast I’m surprised it wasn’t shaking the plexiglass.

“Hey,” he said, earning back my stareas he drifted back towards the edge. “I’ve got you, remember? There’s no pressure. We’ll go slow.”

Slow. Right.

My gaze flew around the rink, if onlyto give myself a moment, another one, tolet my heart simmer, as well as my mind. But only when they drifted back to Finn did they really calm down, as though he were a sunrise after a storm, a quiet promise that everything would be okay.

But how could that be? This was the boy who broke my heart. Why should I feel so safe?

The silly part of my mind answered for me.

Because you do. You always have.

I shook the insane thoughts loose and silently headed to the bench to get this over with. When I finally had my skates on, Istood, the blades felt alien under me, precarious and sharp. I forced my feet forward, one step, then another, until I was at the edge of the rink. My head drifted up to meet Finn, his figure just ahead of me.

I watched as his lips parted. “Do youwant me to go—”

“No.” I rushed, our stares burning, likehe was holding my hands as I took another step.

The thought surged through me . “If I ask you to hold my hand, please don’t laugh at me.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, but his dimples weren’t the only thing that appeared—something flickered in his eyes, something unreadable. Then, his voice dropped, slow and deliberate. “ Holding your hand is no laughing matter. Trust me. ”

My breath hitched. My eyes fell back to my wobbly skates, but not quickly enough to miss the way he was looking at me. Like he meant it.

So I ignored it. Kind of.

“Just… stay there.” I peered up athim. “Just in case.”

He nodded, skating back slightly,making room for me as I opened up the gate.

The rink stretched out in front of melike an invitation I wasn’t sure I could accept. But I had to find out. I had to.

The skate felt twice as heavy as I lifted it, up and over the ledge, until I felt the familiar scrape of the ice beneath my feet.My blade slid, tentative, and mybreath hitched. And before I could let that pull dragging me back to the safety of the stands tug harder, I lifted my other boot and glided, pushing away from the edge before I could even think about clinging onto it.

The icy chill seeped into mybones, right through my thin jumper andskating tights. And the little pink wraparound skirt was doing nothing to keep in any kind of warmth. But underneath the layers, something stirred—something I hadn’t felt in years.

Finn’s voice was a low hum as heskated behind me. “That’s it. One step at a time.”

The ice pushed backagainst my weight, firm but forgiving. Mymuscles tensed in my thighs as I fought for balance, the instinct to push away a twirl rusty but not entirely gone. I thought about it as I glided, pushing against the ice once more and circling my leg, forcing me into a small spin—

“Oh, merde!” 1

I wobbled, my arms flailing behind me,as a quiet laugh came from Finn. “Careful, Bambi. ”

I shot him a look over my shoulder asI straightened and spun to face him, ashaky laugh escaping my lips. “Bambi?”

He lifted his hands in defeat as heskated toward me. “I call it like I see it.” His grin softened the teasing, and Itried again, inching forward before his voice broke through, catching me of guard. "What was Taylor Swift's first album?"

My head whipped to him, so fast I nearly wobbled again. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, skating closer. "Focus on something else, just while you get comfortable." He caught my eye roll, turned and skated away. "Fine, fall on your ass, see if I care."

He got all of three feet from me before I stopped him. "Wait." In an instant he stopped, before slowly skating round and setting that wicked stare on me. "Ask me again."

Smugness took over his features, enough that it fuelled that fire burning in my chest at how annoyed I was that he knew me so well. He shouldn't have. But I suppose that was my fault for not shutting up about the queen of the music industry.

His smirk tugged higher, making that fire a raging inferno. "What was Taylor Swift's first album?"

I dropped my head to stare at the ice, before my lungs filled with cold air. I pulled mysleeves over my knuckles and pushedagainst my weight. "Debut."

Every joint in my body tensed as I moved, but the second Finn's voice hit my ears they eased, just a little. "Correct. What was her third?"

"Speak now," I answered as I pushed, this time going further into the middle of the rink.

"Tw o for two, Bambi." I could hear his smirk in his voice as it followed behind me. "Now, what was her second re-record?" His chuckle echoed. "I'll give you a hint, Re-e-e-ed ."

I tried everything to keep my smile hidden, but it was pointless. At least he was behind me so he couldn't see it. Couldn't mock me on how big it was. Luckily I pulled it tight before my head swung around to face him. "How is it a hint if you just give me the answer?"

He shrugged, that smirk still in place. "I'm a red man. Couldn't resist."

My brows pulled together, my head falling back ahead of me. "Red? Really?"

"Yeah, why?"

I shrugged, my mouth pulling. "I pegged you as a Debut kinda guy."

I heard him stifle a laugh. "That's a close second." The scrape of his blades getting closer pulled my attention, and before I knew it he was skating beside me. "How you feeling now?"

"Fine, why?"

His eyes roamed around the rink before falling onto me. "Well, you've just done two laps of the rink, so I thought I'd check in."

I felt my eyes widen and my stomach fall, before I looked around, as though I'd forgotten where I was.

The shake in my skates wasn't there anymore, and the nervous tingles in the backs of my knees were gone too. My eyes flew back to Finn, but his eyes were already on me, the smug sheen that lived in them softer than it was before. We didn't say an ything, only stared, but if I had the energy I would have said thank you.

I just couldn't.

He fell behind me again after another lap, as I breathed through the glides. I kept my legs tensed, my knees slightly bent, and my spine stiff. I could already feel that familiar ache I used to wake up with settling into my joints.

Now that I'd gotten rid of whatever hesitations I'd had, I felt brave enough to try and spinagain, so I circled my leg, tucked my skates together and pulled my arms against my chest. Before I knew what was happening I was squeezing my thighs together and spinning, slow at first, before the current picked up.

“She's spinning ladies and gents!” I heard Finn call from theother end of the rink, his claps booming.

As I slowed, digging in my toe pick, Istopped to face him, not caring about how breathless I was. Or how big my grin was.

Because… merde. I was skating. I was doing it.

Feeling that fire brew in the pit of mystomach, I pushed off the ice again, myspeed making me catch my breath and my fingertips pulse with adrenalin. When I slowed, I went into another spin, committing to a crossover before circling my leg and tucking it in, my arms crossed and clutched under my chin. I was feeling brave this time, so I lifted my skate, beveling my knee, feeling as gracef ul as ever—

My skate flew forward, and a crycame flying out of my mouth. Pain bloomed in my knees as they landed on the ice, and I had to blink, wondering if that had just happened.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Finn called, hisvoice and the scrape of his skates getting closer.

Okay, that did just happen.

Quick as anything I got to my feet,brushing off the chipped ice from my knees. “Fine, I’m fine.” I lied, my heart lodging in my throat. “Let me try again.”

Before Finn could reach me, I pushedoff my knee, skating away before I couldlook at him.But with every cautious glide, thememories crept closer—the sound of myMom’s laugh, the smell of the lake after an early morning practice. When I fell she used to be there, and so did Dad. And now they weren’t.

It all hit at once, a tidal wave that Ididn’t hold my breath for.Feeling my face cringe with thepromise of an embarrassing display of tears, I turned and stumbled back to the edge, not stopping until I was gripping the boards.

“Hey, hey, hey, what is it?” I heardFinn call, his voice full of panic.

“I can’t,” I heaved, leaning over untilthe ache in my chest lessened.

Finn was beside me in an instant. Hedidn’t touch me right away, just stood there, close enough that his presence was like a tether. “Hey,” he said softly, “I know. I know it’s hard.” Only then did his palm gently land on my back, as his head leant down to reach me. “But you’ve done harder things, right?”

I s wallowed, reigning in my breaths,nodding even though I wasn’t sure Ibelieved it.

I suppose this, standing next to Finn as he smoothed his hand down my back, was hard, when I thought about it. But I quickly banished my mind from drifting to how odd this all was. Neither my heart, nor my mind had the room for it right now.

“Clear your head,” he said, his voicegenuine, and steady. “And try that spin again.”

How? How was this the same person who broke my heart?

I wondered if he could feel me searching for him as I turned my head and sank into his stare. I wondered if he could feel me trying to figure him out. But before I fell deeper I looked back down at my skates, reminding myself that it would be far easier to face my skating problem, than the ones between me and him right now.

So, I exhaled slowly, letting his words sinkin as I pushed off the boards, glidingto the centre. The resistance of the ice under my blades woke up something dormant, like my muscles remembered, even if I didn’t want to.

Finn followed a few paces behind, asteady presence that made the vastness of the rink feel less daunting. Like the most stoic training wheels I’d ever set eyes on.

This time I kept my head clear and my thighs firm as I crossed over into my turn. I tucked my knees tight, and my arms crushed against my chest, breathing in a rhythm that made the ice flow softer beneath me. Slowly, I lifted one boot again, archin g my back into the turn, and when I felt steady, my arms un-clenched and hovered over my head.

As the momentum melted, Irounded off the turn and dug my toe-pick back into the ice, power surging through me and my chest heaving from excitement.

I just did a turn.

A very basic,five-year-olds-can-do-this-in-their-sleep kind of turn. But it was a turn. On ice. And I just did it.

I ignored the chill and let go of mysleeves, clapping and doing another smallspin before I glided back over to Finn.

And at that moment, I saw the version of him I was just searching for.

He had the same look that the princes have, when their waiting at the bottom of the staircase, eyes tracking their princess as she glides down in the most whimsical dress, so clearly in love with her. That was what I was looking at rightnow.

Although I had to forget about thelove part. He wasn't a prince and I certainly wasn't a princess. We were civil, that's all.

Tutor and tutor-ee. Skater and training wheels. Finn and Rory.

But still, it was a nice thought.

As I skated to a stop in front of him,I wobbled again, my arms whirling behindme for a moment before I felt something grip them.

“Still Bambi,” he teased, and my eyesfell to his hands, curled around my arms.

My lip sank into my teeth, chewing fora second before I let a giggle slip. Like I couldn't help it around him.

His warm hold sent a jolt throughme—not just warmth, but something sharper, more dangerous. And when reality hit me, I watched it hit him too, an soon enough he let go of me.

I looked away before I could spiral,the moment slipping through my fingers like water as I skated back, turning away from him with a half-smile.

And then, as if the ice itselfwhispered its permission, I leapt. My body moved as though my skates were attached to an invisible track, spinning through the crisp air. The single lutz wasn’t perfect, but it was mine—semi-clean, certain, but freeing in a way I’d forgotten how much I loved.

When my blades met the ice again, aspark ignited within me. Laughter spilt from my lips, echoingthrough the rink. I turned to Finn, hisgrin lighting up the space we shared. His eyes crinkled at the corners, warm and verdant, but there was still something from earlier that lingered. Something wary.

“Look at you, Bambi,” he called, hisvoice carrying across the ice. “You’re anatural."

And in that fleeting moment,with his words wrapping around me likea spell, I believed him.

1. Oh, shit!