Chapter 10 #2
“Do you remember that concert we went to?” he asks, gesturing back behind us toward the rest of the city since the venue had been in that general direction. Of course I remember. “We thought we were so cool, at a concert by ourselves, meanwhile my mom was in the balcony the whole time.”
“It was a great show, though, and it was cool, we were at a club and I remember feeling like we belonged there, you know? Like almost a grown-up.”
We were down on the floor together, swaying to the music, tucked against each other to keep from losing one another in the crowd, his arm around my waist, holding me close, my head on his shoulder. The first time I’d danced with a boy, off the ice, at least.
It’s a perfect memory.
Freddie laughs and grins down at me. “Yeah. I was so…” The smile slips from his face, clouding over with another thought.
I don’t have more than a few seconds to appreciate that this was how it used to be and how easily we slid back into it without even realizing it.
But maybe that’s how it is now, the happy stuff always overshadowed by the bad.
Because that concert was only a few days before my dad and Camille sat me down to talk about the realities of my partnership with Freddie and how I had to make a choice and I had to make it soon.
A week later, he was gone.
It sucks and I want to make it not suck, so I ask, “What?” trying to bring back whatever the good memory was, and he glances at me, something shifting in his face while he swallows roughly.
“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” he says, rubbing at the back of his head, looking away.
I stutter-step, then just stop in the middle of the sidewalk and he stops with me. “It matters to me.”
“Does it?” he almost snaps at me, the harshest I’ve ever heard his voice, and I’m too stunned to respond.
Looking up at him is still weird, that he has to duck his head to look fully into my eyes, but the way he’s looking at me makes my breath catch in my chest. I’m not sure I’ve ever been looked at like that.
A mixture of anger and hurt and something else that I think I recognize, but there’s no way that’s what it is.
It can’t be.
But it looks like…like want.
I bite into my bottom lip, unsure, but when his eyes follow the motion, my heart flutters.
His hand brushes against my wrist—and how did he get so close?
So close I can see the darker green circles in his eyes and feel the warm exhale of his breath, and my stomach swoops sweetly when his eyes flicker down to my mouth, his tongue darting out and wetting his bottom lip, and I bite down on mine as his gaze meets mine again and I sway a little at the contact.
“Hey!” a voice calls from behind us. Freddie spins away and squints against the sun as a car pulls up. I fall back onto my heels, but I don’t even remember pushing up onto my toes. When had that happened?
It’s Georgia and Harry Croft. They’re in the back seat of a cab.
“What are you all doing out this far?” Georgia asks.
“We wanted to get a nice long run in, but…” Freddie says to his sister, his voice flat, gesturing down to my knee, but refusing to really look at me.
“Oh!” Georgia says, catching a glimpse of my knee. “Adriana! Are you all right, sweetie?” Freddie leans over toward the car and mumbles something I can’t hear. “Come on, we’ll give you a ride home so you can get that cleaned up and Freddie can finish his run.”
I start to protest. It’s fine, I can ignore it, but Freddie’s at my side, a hand at my elbow, leading me forward as his sister scooches over and makes room for me in the back seat.
Then I’m in the car, the door is closed behind me, and through the window, I watch Freddie take off at a run before we leave him in the dust.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Georgia asks me again.
“She’s fine, Georgia, don’t fuss,” Harry says.
I haven’t had much of a chance to get to know either of them.
“We were coming back from a nice breakfast before the crowds hit. We have some leftover eggs Benedict, if you want one?” he offers, and when I shake my head no, he shrugs.
“I don’t know how you all do this. I don’t know how I used to do this.
Sunday morning runs instead of Sunday morning eggs Benedict, especially after staying up so late to watch the competition. ”
“It was fun,” I say. It’s not a lie. For a few minutes at that party, I was having fun. And if Harry didn’t notice my disappearing act, that’s fine.
“And did it finally happen?” he asks, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Panic, total and complete, rages through my veins and my heart clenches. They couldn’t possibly know about…did they see us?
“It?” I ask, my voice cracking a little.
“Oh, you know, Riley and Freddie. I’ve got good money on them finally making it official before we fly to France.”
Oh God. Riley and Freddie. I’d completely forgotten.
How had I forgotten? I’m a complete idiot.
Riley was going to tell him how she feels and I just almost—I don’t even know what that was, but it was something.
And clearly Freddie was freaked out too or he wouldn’t have sent me along with his sister.
“You…you bet on them?”
Georgia rolls her eyes. “We bet the next show we’re going to stream together. He thinks before we go. I think, not so much.”
“Oh,” I say, sending them a tight smile.
“Which do you think?” Harry asks. “Will my brother-in-law ever kiss that poor girl? Or will she get tired of waiting around for him and do it herself?”
“I—”
“Stop it, Harry,” Georgia says, swatting at him playfully. “You’re embarrassing her. Riley’s her friend. She’s not going to spill any secrets.”
I play along and say dryly, “Yep, sorry. Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you.
It violates section one, paragraph two of the girl code.
Violators are punished with zero outfit consultations for a year and I can’t afford to lose Riley’s opinion.
She’s my tiebreaker if my sisters give me a split decision. ”
For a second there’s silence, and then they both burst into hysterical laughter.
They’re still laughing when the car pulls up to the house and we climb out.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I lead them into the house.
There are suitcases strewn all over the foyer, clearly dropped after they were dragged inside. Elisa and Dad are sitting on the couch, facing us, their mouths twisted into the same expression.
My gaze catches the time on the grandfather clock in the corner. They’re hours early. Their flight wasn’t supposed to get in until later tonight. We’d planned a small welcome home dinner, nothing crazy, mostly because we weren’t sure how much celebrating they were going to be in the mood for.
“You’re home!” I say, moving toward them, but neither budges from their seats.
“Yeah, we are,” Elisa says, frowning at me. Her eyes flicker from my face and then down to my scraped knee.
I try to push through the awkwardness. “You guys remember Georgia and Harry.”
Dad, ever the crowd-pleaser, rises and shakes both their hands, wandering off with them and asking what they think of the house and the facilities.
I can hear them assuring him that Kellynch is the finest rink they’ve ever worked out of, while I stand there with Elisa still sitting silently, arms folded over her chest.
Shit.