Page 17

chapter seventeen

i'll make you laugh so you forget why you were ever sad

bambi

today at 13:54pm

knock knock.

oh no.

no. you’re supposed to say “who’s there?”

fine. who’s there?

ice.

i regret the day i texted you

ICE

seigneur, donne-moi la force.

ice who?

ice to see you.

i’m deleting your number.

you say that every time. and yet, here we are.

so when are you free to skate again?

you were serious about that?

course. someone's gotta spot you for those jumps.

so, what’s your schedule looking like, greene? i’m all yours.

tempting offer, but there are only so many knock-knock jokes a girl can pretend are funny before she cracks.

i promise, no jokes while we skate. just pure, unfiltered charm.

oh, that’s even worse.

you wound me.

you’ll live.

only if you show up.

shameless flirt

how’s tomorrow afternoon?

i can meet you after my shift at flo’s. after 5?

i’ll meet you there, bambi

stop calling me that.

never

you’re impossible.

and yet you haven’t deleted my number. can’t be that sick of me.

i guess not.

Meeting Rory at Flo's didn’t make much sense, considering practice wrapped up at 4:30, and I was already here. But Flo’s was a good distance from the campus rink, and the idea of her wandering over alone in all the foot traffic didn’t sit well with me.

So, I came to get her.

She gave me a small smile when shespotted me sitting in the booth that the guys and I practically owned whenever we came here, and handed me a steaming latte with a flower ring doodled on the lid. But beyond that? Not much. She hadn’t really spoken much as we walked back to campus, which I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at last year. But now? I felt like all the warming up to me she’d done had frozen over again and we were back at square one.

Once we fought our way through therush-hour crowds, elbowing our way tothe rink, we dropped our bags, laced up in silence and hit the ice. The familiar chill I’d not long since warmed from filled the air, and soon enough Rory had claimed the centre of the rink, gliding in lazy circles, her movements fluid and unhurried.

“So,” she murmured, shifting into a turnthat looked so effortless I had to remind myself not to stare. “Why are we doing this again?”

Before I could look at her, the buzzing in my bag caught my attention. I pulled it out, saw Dad on the screen, and shoved the thing right back into the depths of my bag before zipping it shut like I was sealing off a crime scene. Shame clung to me for a second—maybe less—before I remembered that this was probably another false alarm.

He didn’t actually want to talk to me. Not really. Just like last time, when I caved.

There'd be no more caving from me. That much I was sure of. If anything, cutting the strings he’d been pulling, forcing me into the same damn dance over and over, had made things clearer. Like I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the moment I screwed up and turned into him. It was a start. A messy, uncertain, probably-temporary start—but a start nonetheless.

"Finn?" Her voice broke through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality.

"Hmm?" I murmured, turning to face her.

She folded her arms around her waist, the move weighted with exhaustion. “I asked you why we’re doing this again.”

“Oh.”

This wasn't the same girl I'd seen only the other day, after her recital. Her usual glow wasn't there, neither was the constant chirp in her voice that made you crack a smile even when you felt like shit. But still, it was a fair question. She didn’t need this anymore. She had her ice time with Aspen thanks to all those extra shifts at Flo’s—and what I was paying her for tutoring. She was covered.

But if I was being honest? I just wanted to spend more time with her.

Sure, we saw each other when she was helping me with French, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. Even if that made me a s elfish hypocrite. Even if it made zero sense after I spent all of last year pushing her away. I was letting the walls crumble, and me being here right now was like setting up a detonator, waiting for them to fall completely.

And maybe that was the problem. Nothing had happened yet to make me freak out, and I was starting to wonder if there was anything to freak out about at all.

Even last week, when I sat in the audience at her recital, heart damn near beating out of my chest. The longer I watched her skate, the more I forgot why I’d been so scared. She was incredible. Peaceful. Happy. Everything I wasn’t sure I deserved to be near.

And yet, here I was.

Maybe I’d overthought it all. Maybe I was worried for nothing and self-aware enough to trust that I wasn’t like the man who didn’t raise me. Maybe it was time to stop running from what felt so damn right.

I smirked, letting a bit of my usual bravado slip through. “I told you—those jumps of yours are dangerous. The more practice you get, the better.”

She arched a brow, her lips twitching likeshe was trying not to smile. “And here I thought you were just fine tuning your bossy tendancies for when you’re captain next year.”

“I prefer strategic leader, to captain.” Iskated a slow circle around her, leaning back just enough to look unbothered. “Or skating high lord.” Her eyes narrowed as I flicked my wrist. “And I'm not bossy.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of hermouth betrayed her. “Right. Strategic.Is that what we’re calling your sudden need to micromanage my jumps now?”

“You say micromanage. I say supervisewith fun.” I shot back, grinning.

Her face softened, and while her lips curved into the smallest of smiles, it didn’t reach her eyes. The fact that something was wrong was only getting clearer by the second. As though a storm cloud had made a permanent home above and was blocking any of her light from shining.

Screw it.

“Alright,” I said, skating closer until Istopped a few feet from her. “Skateand spill it.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Whatever it is that’s making you quiet.Get your ass moving and tell me what’s going on.” I reached out, giving her a little nudge on the shoulder.

“ Finn .”

“Somethings up.” Our bodies were soclose I could see the clouds of air escaping her plump lips. “You being quiet last year wouldn’t have worried me. But now I’m used to the Rory who enjoys rambling about the importance of my pronunciation whilst trying to find ways to educate me about the cultural significance of Taylor Swift’s re-records.”

Her eye roll was quiet but impossible to look away from, as her voice dropped to barely a murmur. “Okay, firstly, you brought up Taylor Swift first. The fact I won't stop talking about her is all your fault. And secondly, it's hard to educate someon e who spends half his time theorising when rep tv is going to drop.”

I bit back my smile. “Exactly. I already know the importance of them, but I let you talk anyway because I’ve never had the chance to see you just talk.” My head shook as I fell deep into her stare. “Which is why, when we spend an entire two-mile walk in silence, I know something is on your mind.”

Her eyes sparkled with questions, but when her lips parted and her eyes narrowed, I knew what I'd seen was pure fire. "Can I just ask, to clear things up in my head because this-" she waves her hands between us. "-is only getting more confusing the longer it goes on. But why do you care if I'm quiet? Why do you care about me ?"

"Why do I care?"

Rory nodded.

I threw my hand out by my sides. "I don't know, because you're my friend. Because, as I said, I'm used to seeing you happy now. Because mercury is out of retrograde, I don't know!" My smile was wide, held there by nothing but confusion. "Or maybe because I'm tired of seeing you sad. How about that?"

Stillness became her as her eyes roamed mine, as though she was searching for the some hidden agenda. And I didn't blame her. Not with how new this still was between us, and certainly not when I knew her past relationship wasn't exactly the most truthful. She had every right to be wary, but all I could do was show her that she didn't need to be. Not anymore.

I glided an inch forward, close enough that I could connect the golden flecks in her eyes. "That night you got the call about your d ad was awful, and seeing you just… crumble…" Her watery eyes darted between mine. "I had a moment where I wanted to vow to make sure you never ended up like that again."

This was the most honest I'd ever been with her, and I could tell she was trying to decided whether I was lying or not. If she came to the conclusion that I was then, again, I wouldn't blame her. But to help guide her off that path I reached up, slowly, and swated a rogue tear away from her cheek.

As my hand fell back down by my side, my fingertips still buzzing from the contact, I nodded my chin at her. “So, start skating and spill it.”

She hesitated, her head pulling back for amoment as the clouds of air disappeared for a second or two. But the longer I had herattention, the more I watched that facade crack. Her eyes sank, her shoulders relaxed, and like she was tired of holding up whatever shield she had around herself, she sighed.

Got you, Bambi.

She pushed back on the ice, eyeing melike she was more mad than happy that Icalled her out. But I didn’t care. Not when it came off cuter than she was probably hoping for. She started skating in lazy circles around me. I followed, keeping pace.

“I got a junior pass,” she said finally.“Which basically means the judges think I’m good enough to compete.” Her voice was tight, like the words had been knotted up inside her.

It took me a second to process, but once Idid, my brows raised. “Is that what Aspen wanted to talk to you about?” She threw her head over her shoulder and nodded. My smile grew in an instant. “That’s incredible.”

“No,” she snapped, frustration flashingacross her face for the moment she letme see her. “It’s not incredible. Because now I have to decide if I’m actually going to use it. And if I do, what does that even mean? Do I just throw away my life here? Do I drop out of college, ditch everything I’ve been working toward, and suddenly decide I’m a full-time skater? Who in their right mind just drops out on a whim? What if I get to regionals and I’m terrible? What if every other girl there is leagues ahead of me? Which they absolutely will be. I’ve been doing this for a month, barely two. They’ve probably been landing triple lutzes since they were three. What if I’m just setting myself up to fail because I’m sad and desperate and trying to chase some stupid, impossible dream—”

The vow I'd made to never see her crumble kicked in and I was behind her in an instant—overtaking and turning to face her, my hands on her waist, lifting her off the ice before her emotions could spill over.

“Finn!” she shrieked, legs kicking.“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting you out of your head,” I said, spinning us in a slow circle. “Will you stop wriggling?” A chuckle slipped past my lips. “Relax. I’ve got you. Stretch your arms up.”

For a second, she looked like she mightfight it, but then I watched her chestrise and fall, and she tilted her head to the ceiling. Slowly, her arms raised, her body leaning into the mo ment, and for a split second, she looked like herself again—sunny, weightless.

“There she is,” I said, softly enough foronly me to hear.

I spun us once more, earring a giggle from Rory, before setting her back down. She stumbled a little as her skates met the ice again, but she caught herself, pinning me with a glare that didn’t land the way she wanted it to.

“And you think you're not bossy?” she muttered, but her lips twitched upward.

“Oh I know I am. But denial is a disease." I shot back, skating backwards and knocking my head. “Come on.”

She looked down at her fumbling hands for a moment, hereyes darting back to mine for a second, almost like she was wondering if I was actually there, waiting for her. I tilted my head, knocking it to the side, and after another sileant second, she followed.We glided together, lapping the rink oncein silence. Ihad to turn my head away to smile, several times, wondering what I’d done right to deserve a precious moment like this with her.

After a while, I finally turned my head toface her. Well, looking down at her, more like, given our almost one-foot height difference. “Why are you at Liberty Grove?”

Her eyes darted to up mine, those brownpools wide. “What kind of question isthat?”

“A real one.” My head tilted.“Are you here because you want to be, or because you think you should be?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze dropped to the ice, her feet moving in aslow, steady rhythm. “I… ”

I cleared my throat, taking the lead.“When I was little, we had to do this thing in school where we said what we wanted to be when we grew up. I said I wanted to be a hockey player, like my grandpa. Still do.”

Her eyes flicked up to mine, curiosityswimming in them.

“What did you say when they askedyou?” I asked.

Her cheeks blushed for a moment, a difference I wouldn't have noticed if ourfaces weren’t so close. “A figure skater,” she admitted, so quietly I almost missed it. “Like my mom.”

The corner of my mouth tugged. “And do you still want to be?”

She didn’t answer. Not directly. Her brows knitted together, and I could see thewar going on inside her. It didn’t take long for her eyes to get fixed on her skates.“I don’t know what I want to be,” she whispered, finally.

I shook my head. “Bullshit.”

Her head sprang up sharply, her curls almost whipping her. “Wha—”

“You know exactly what you want to be,” I said, halting our skates. “You’rejust too scared to admit it. Because admitting it makes you feel selfish. But you know what? Focusing on your dreams isn’t selfish, Rory. It’s brave.”

I used to think that kind of bravery—putting on a brave face and carrying on—was easy. But growing up with the father I had, I’d learned the hard way that it was the hardest thing in the world.

She stopped skating, pulling away from me. For a second, I thought I’doverstepped. But then she turned to face me, our skates barely a foot apart, before her eyes, that fire dancing between them, met mine. “Why did you ignore me last year?”

The question hit like a puck to the gut.

Suddenly my breaths felt like they’dtripled. “What?” I asked, my voice breathless.

She didn’t move. “I just… I don’tunderstand it.” She skated just that little bitcloser. “Okay, sure, we're friends and you don't want to see me upset. I appreciate that. But I don’t know what’s changed for you to want to be around me this much. Jess and Tristan don't want to see me sad but they don't do this. They don't offer to help me chase my dreams and that's fine, I wouldn't expect them to. But this?" Disbelief filled her eyes. "The second I start to question it, something else in my life happens that I have to focus on, only for you to pop up somewhere to save me. And bang, I’m back trying to guess what’s changed.” Her hands tugged at the ends of her braids, while her eyes searched mine, like she was hoping to find the answer in there. “I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to help and I can’t thank you enough for that but…” Her head shook. “I don’t think I can focus on anything until know why I’m suddenly the only person you want to be around.”

A laugh that I’d never heard from her, sharp yet fragile, echoed between us. “And I don’t know why I’m telling myself to trust that it’ll stick when I’m positive that you’ll break me again.”

It felt like a knife slashed through myheart, with every word she spoke. Guilttwisted in my stomach. Anger bubbled in my core. That gnawing feeling that I’d pushed away all for nothing was eating at me like a wildfire ripping away a forest.

“When we're like this, together,sometimes I feel like I’m dreaming. That I’llwake up and just start to cry because I’ll remember that you don’t actually like me.” The crack in her voice was enough for me to skate to her, gripping her hands in mine, forgetting the world, just for a second. “That I’ll have to spend the rest of my time here avoiding you because just thinking about that night is enough for me to never want to leave my room again.”

“I’m sorry.” I squeezed her hands, before her head fell forward.

Quick as anything I caught it, pinning her eyes to me.

“I was scared,” I admitted.

“Of me?”

“Of losing you.”

Her face softened, keeping still under my hold. But the distance between us felt fragile, like the wrong word might shatter it. So instead, I waited for her, to let what I’d said settle.

Eventually, her lips pried open, her brows pulled. “What made you think youwould have lost me?”

I shook my head, thoughtlessly skimming my thumbs over the backs of her hands. “That hadmore to do with me than it did with you, trust me—”

“Then what happened?” Her eyes were the boldest I’d seen them. All wide anddetermined.

It made me want to tell her. Everything. About my home. About Dad. Why every time I felt myself gravitating towards her, I had to ask myself whether the risk was worth it. Whether I’d be willing to chance ruining my life if something happened to us. To her.

“Like I said, I was scared.” I let my handfall back down by my side. “I don’t know why.”

You know why, you coward.

I watched as she took it in, waiting for her to react. But all she did, all I knewshe’d do, was let a small smile grace her lips as she looked up at me, her cheeks brightening, and her eyes regaining some of that warmth.

“You wouldn’t have lost me,” she saidquietly, shaking her head as she began to skate around me. I turned around to follow her. “If you’d said yes… I wouldn’t have gone anywhere. I had such a crush on you.” Her laugh bounced off the sides of the rink, mesmerising enough that I could ignore that she said ‘had’ and not ‘have’.

You should be happy about that. Havingher attached to you will only make you feel worse when you eventually get scared again.

I had to squeeze my eyes closed for asecond.

I didn’t want to get scared again. I didn’twant to repeat history.

So what do you want then?

I opened my eyes, finding her just intime for the word to echo in my head.

Her. I want her.

“But hey,” Her voice was back to normalthen, light and airy and that chirp weaving through every word that left her. “Maybe saying no, saying nothing, was the right thing. Who knows? Maybe I wasn’t ready then.”

“And now?” I asked without thinking,my voice breathless, as though I’d just finished a game.

She smiled softly, skating toward meuntil she was back in front of me, closeenough that I could count the freckles hidden on her nose.

I got to seventeen before her mouth stole myattention.

“Now,” she said, her mouth twitching, as though she were weighing which answer to go with. There was no time to guess before she shook her head. “Now Ithink it’s time to actually do some jumps before my oh-so-precious ice time is up.”

Before I could say a word, she was gone, gliding ahead with the kind of effortless grace that made it seem like she belonged to the ice more than anywhere else. Her skates carved silent declarations into the rink, carrying her away from me—too fast, too easy. Like she thought she could outrun whatever had just passed between us.

But then, at the last second, she glanced back.

It was fleeting, barely more than a heartbeat, but I caught it—the small, almost teasing curve of her lips, the way her eyes lingered just a little too long before flicking forward again. A look that said nothing and everything all at once.

And that was the thing about noticing the little things in people. After a while, you start to recognise what they’re trying to hide. The truths buried beneath their silences. The words they swallow down because they’re too afraid to let them slip free. But insted of holding on to the thought, I let it go.

Bec ause if I could see the truths she was hiding, it was only a matter of time before she could find the ones I kept locked away .