Chapter 13 #3
Her mom’s face tightened with guilt. My parents used to get the same look when I said my skates were too tight or that there was another clinic I could go to for practicing.
“We moved,” she said quietly. “Back here. Closer to family. It was the right decision, but…she lost her team.”
I remembered what it felt like to lose the only place that made sense, and I couldn’t stand the idea of her feeling that alone.
It hit me the way some hits do—when you don’t see them coming until they knock the wind out of you. It had been decades since I was Maddie’s age and my team was my entire life. The rink was the only place that I existed.
“You guys live up here?”
“No, we just came up for the day to visit my sister…”
“My new room is so cool. If I stand on my bed, I can see Almstead Island.”
“That is cool,” I agreed. An idea had taken root in my brain and I couldn’t shake it. “What about Berghelm Rink? That’s not too far from the area of town.”
Maddie perked up like someone had flipped a switch. “We go to open skate sometimes! When Mom isn’t busy and on discount nights.”
“They’re starting up the kids’ league again after the holidays,” I said. “Trying to get more girls on the ice.”
Her mom’s eyes softened, then flickered with worry again. “League fees…” she murmured. “It just adds up fast.”
“Oh,” I said casually—too casually—“they’ve got scholarship spots. For players with experience. I heard they’re trying to build the girls’ side back up.”
They didn’t. Not yet. But hell if that was stopping me. I would have paid every fee myself if that was what it took. Some kids deserved a chance without knowing who made it happen.
Her mom blinked, hope pushing through the worry like a tiny green shoot through snow. “They…do?”
“Yeah,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound like a lunatic. “Forms should go up soon. Sometimes you have to, you know…know the right page to check.”
“I’ll look the second we get home,” she said. Her voice cracked a little on the words.
“I can send a link when it goes up,” I offered. “If that’s easier.”
She gave a small nod and typed her number into my phone before she could think too hard about it. Please don’t ask why I know. Just go with it.
Before the moment could get too heavy, Maddie bounced on her toes. “Can we take a picture? All four of us? Please? My team won’t believe me unless there’s proof.”
Before I said anything, Casey stepped right beside me—closer than before—his arm brushing mine, warm through all the layers. For someone who could be so skittish about anything deep, he hadn’t hesitated at all. That alone made something molten shift under my skin.
He moved like he belonged there, tucked into my side without hesitation, and it hit deeper than I expected.
Her mom joined Maddie’s other side. I rested my hand on the small of Casey’s back without thinking. He moved in lightly, like he’d been waiting for the public claiming.
Maddie took what felt like thirty photos and, according to her, half of them were blurry. Her bells jingled the whole time.
“Can I post it on my mom’s feed?” she asked breathlessly. “So everybody sees?”
“That’s fine with me,” I said. “Just make sure you tag me so my old teammates know I’ve still got the best fans.”
A younger version of me never imagined I would want to be seen beside someone like Casey.
Her mom hesitated, eyes flicking to Casey. “Are you all right with that, sweetheart? If not, that’s completely fine.”
It hit me slow but sure—she saw his future reality faster than I did.
Should’ve been me. Maddie was right. I was no superstar, but odds were high some kind of splash would be made.
Casey was entirely too tucked in to me to claim we were nothing more than friends.
I’d never deny him, or what I was, but that didn’t mean he wanted the attention that came with it.
My queerness was about to become more than low-key speculation.
Casey looked at me first—not her—and whatever he saw in my face must’ve calmed something in him. His breath clouded in the cold.
I felt that look all the way to my ribs, a silent check that I was still choosing him.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Go ahead.”
That yes meant everything. Maddie cheered. Her mom let out this shaky, relieved laugh like she’d finally caught up to the moment.
Standing there with Casey warm at my side, with bells jingling, cinnamon in the air, and a kid who reminded me so much of myself, hurtled me back in time to Montreal.
My dad let me stand by the tunnel for hours just to see étienne Bouchard walk out in his suit like he owned the whole world.
Other parents complained or dragged their kid away.
Every time I checked to make sure it was still okay, he smiled and nodded.
No hint that he was losing money by the bar being closed, so I could catch a two-second glimpse of my hero.
But looking at Maddie’s shining face now, and Casey leaning against me like the whole world made a little more sense when we touched? I understood it perfectly.