Chapter 6
lukas
She was the last person I ever expected to run into again.
My heart beat hard in my chest. The setting sun painted the world in orange and gold and where she stood on the ice—she shone. I watched from the side as she talked Zara through what looked like a double axel—a skill she’d been struggling with for months.
I stayed back, watching as she coached my younger sister.
I wondered if she knew how she looked, how a little part of me was thrilled at seeing her just standing on the ice.
She was instructing a girl who literally idolized her.
Zara had been in such a hurry that day, had rushed right past her biggest idol to stare at the ice rink where the qualifiers were taking place. I’d seen her.
I swallowed the lump of guilt forming. Knowing what I did—a secret I was almost certain Aimee had no idea about.
My eyes never left her that day, and I was finding it hard to look away from her now.
Her hair was not as light as it was before, there were dark circles under her eyes.
She seemed to favor her one leg slightly—like she wasn’t putting all of her weight on it.
“She misses it. Even though she’ll never admit it,” a girl’s voice said to my right.
I looked over, and a girl with curly, brown hair and pale, freckled skin stood next to me, both hands holding hot chocolate.
“She’s a natural when it comes to this stuff,” she said.
I didn’t respond.
She clearly knew Aimee—her friend, if I had to guess. I listened as she introduced herself, and talked about how she and Aimee had been friends for just about their entire lives, so she’d grown up watching her skate.
“She used to teach a Tiny Tots Skating class at the rink near where we live. Her coach tried to get her to come back, but she was adamant. This is the first time since the accident that I’ve seen her willingly step on ice.”
We stood there, the smell of the hot chocolate wafting up, and watched Aimee mime the mechanics of the move. Aimee Bryant was flawless and had the talent to back everything up. I knew everything that came naturally—I knew the effort, practice and sacrifices she put in to be as good as she was.
I knew because I was the same with skiing. Everything was skiing—and doing so at a professional level meant you gave a lot.
Not to mention that Zara had been following her for years, and I’d been tagging along when I wasn’t busy with my own training schedule.
Whenever our parents were busy, I was the one taking her to competitions and listening to the endless facts and idolizing gushing.
Hell, I walked by Aimee’s face almost every day, seeing as Zara had a signed poster plastered to the front of her bedroom door, and numerous others in her room in my house.
So I knew the work and skill Aimee put in to get every single point she ever scored while being on the ice.
I cringed inwardly.
I probably knew more about Aimee Bryant than was healthy—more than any normal stranger ought to.
I ran my hand over my mouth as anxiety started to build in my chest. I could not talk to her like I knew nothing about her.
I knew too much. Every damned fact that Zara told me, it was burned into my brain.
It’s been seared into the back of my eyeballs, rattling around between my ears… locked behind my lips.
There are things that she may not know and they could very much cause her pain.
Fuck that fucking prick Asher.
Yeah, I knew way too much, and if I did what was right, I would walk away, stay out of her radar. Sometimes not knowing is better, right? Fucking bullshit. I crossed my arms over my chest to avoid clenching my hands into fists.
Anxiety.
Guilt.
Desperation.
I was fucked.
I cleared my throat and nodded my head in the direction of Zara. “My sister. She’s followed Aimee for years and studied her. She’s made me take her to all the competitions or performances I could. Aimee is the reason my sister decided to pick up skates.”
Eloise’s eyes lit up.
When I glanced at her, I wasn't sure if it was with excitement or something a little more mischievous.
“Does she have a coach?”
I let out a sharp laugh. “No, we can’t seem to find one that will stick around long enough to actually train her.
According to everyone we’ve tried to work with, Zara started too late by professional standards and was ‘too old’ to train, which is utter bullshit.
They just want the girls who will medal and place instantly—the ones who have years of practice and skill behind them.
No one believed in her enough to want to take the time. ”
“Well, fuck all of those people.”
I hummed in agreement.
“Brennan would have kicked their asses had he been there.”
Brennan Sinclair—he’d been practically a nobody in the skating world before coaching Aimee. She’d put him on the map, and he honed her skills as a single skater before pairing her up with Asher a few years later.
I remember Zara begging our parents to take her to him, but it just hadn’t been in the cards at the time.
I remember the day it was announced that Aimee was leaving solo skating to become a Pairs skater.
How Zara had come screeching into my room beyond excited that Brennan had picked up another skater.
Once he paired the two of them up, that was when he became big.
The three of them became the team to beat and he was suddenly very sought after and acclaimed.
Zara raved about how if Brennan was willing to take another skater on, then maybe one day she could be coached by him, and no one wanted to crush those dreams.
“I don’t doubt it. I saw how he handled everything after the accident.”
Eloise turned to look at me. “You were there?”
I nodded towards my sister. “I had a training event in the area, so it made sense, and I have an annoying little sister who I love who begged to come. She said she wanted to see Aimee Bryant make it to the Olympics.”
I would never forget the way Brennan had to pry a visibly hurt and numb Aimee off the ice. How she just…stopped being a person, large tears leaking from her eyes as he held her. Not caring that she was a mess.
The scream that had torn from her chest…
the way he’d just held her tighter, closer.
Officials wouldn’t let her parents on the ice—I could remember how their voices rang and echoed.
I could remember the way his parents sobs sounded.
I could still see how the cameras hadn’t stopped filming, how Asher remained sprawled on the ice.
I remember hugging a crying Zara to my chest. The day had been a mess.
“I…I wasn’t there that day.” Eloise said.
“Some days I wish I had been. But then there are other days I’m glad I wasn’t.
I was friends with Asher, and what happened hit hard—hit so many people hard.
But Aimee needed someone who didn’t treat her like she was broken.
The early days were hard, but once she left the hospital—she needed someone who treated her like a normal person,” she paused, “I never pretended it didn’t happen, but I refused and tried my hardest to not let her sink too far into her grief. ”
Eloise took a shaky breath, and I stayed quiet, waiting for whatever she would say next.
The sun was almost fully set, the lights coming to life in the trees, painting everything in a soft warm glow.
“It happened a couple of times—the sinking—and it was always so hard to bring her back. She’d just fall into herself and spiral. It always ended up with her in the hospital—exacerbating her injuries. And someone needed to keep her phone away from her.”
I grimaced.
I also remembered the online vitriol and hate. I’d had to put up blocks on Zara’s devices because my little sister came close to online altercations a few too many times. I stared at Aimee as she again mimed the mechanics Zara needed to do in order to perform the jump correctly.
Eloise laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. She’d be furiously embarrassed if she knew I was over here yapping to a total stranger.”
If only her friend knew just how much I already knew about Aimee Bryant.
We stood there and watched as Zara lined up to take the jump, and when her skate left the ice, her body tightening as she spun in the air…and when her skate came back down to the ice and she stuck the landing. I brought my fingers to my lips and whistled.
Zara skidded to a stop, spun around and waved at me enthusiastically.
Aimee looked over her shoulder at us.
Out of my periphery, I saw Eloise lift the cups slightly. “I hope all of this doesn’t set her back,” she said quietly.
I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me, or herself so I didn’t respond. But it was clear that Aimee was still carrying a lot about what happened that day—how everything went down. If Eloise hadn’t alluded to as much, it was pretty clear that she carried a lot of guilt.
Eloise nudged me, and I followed her out onto the ice.
Aimee was even prettier up close.
She’d definitely dyed her hair a darker color—more of a fiery orange-red over the lighter color it was the last time I’d seen her.
I didn’t mind the new color, but I found myself missing the softer shade.
It was piled in a messy bun on top of her head.
A grey turtleneck covered her throat, and the oversized hoodie she had on dwarfed her frame.
She’d ducked her chin the moment we’d started over.
She had on black leggings and thick socks with winter boots.
“I’m Eloise.”
I listened as Zara introduced herself, and while Eloise complimented her.
I found I couldn’t take my eyes off of Aimee.
Well.
Fuck.
Me.
“You’re staring,” she said, her voice trembling and quiet.
“I just can’t believe it.”
Her shoulders drew up to her ears as she curled in—like she was bracing for impact.
“Please don’t,” she barely breathed.
“I never thought I’d see you again. I mean, I’d hoped, but—”
Her head snapped up, eyes wide, hands hiding in the pocket of the hoodie, but I was almost certain she had them clasped together, holding on for dear life.
The sun was almost fully set behind the mountains, and the lampposts were coming to life, and the twinkling lights strung up through all the trees would be coming on any minute.
“I mean, I’ve been following you for years, and then running into you at the qualifiers—that was terrible, and now here?”
Warning, shut up now, Lukas.
There was clearly a disconnect between my brain and my mouth because words just kept pouring out. Vaguely, I was aware of the silence coming from both my sister and Aimee’s best friend, but my mouth kept moving.
“Like, there are so many posters of you in my house. I traveled all over the country to watch you. The facts I know—kind of creepy, but damn do I know a lot.”
I spluttered as hot chocolate splashed me in the face, snapping me out of whatever word vomit fugue state I’d been in.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Eloise asked, looking at me like I was a creep.
She was standing between me and Aimee who looked both scared and creeped out. I wiped at the hot chocolate dripping down my face. Eloise still had the cup out in front of her, and Zara was looking at me like I’d just ruined her entire life—and well, maybe I just had.
“I just want to specify that I’m not like…a…stalker or anything.”
“Are you sure about that?” Eloise demanded.
“Nope, I’m just in love with Aimee,” I blurt out.
Well, fuck me twice.
The other cup of hot chocolate splashed me.
“Zar, a little help here.”
“Absolutely not. Dig yourself out of this weird hole you’ve put yourself in. This is embarrassing.”
“Gee, thanks.” I snarked.
Aimee looked a little less creeped out, but still incredibly uneasy.
I fucking hate that I put that look on her face. I ran my hands down my face, and flicked them out to the side—hot chocolate flying off my fingers.
“All of that came out really badly. I can explain.”
Eloise shook her head, and I watched as Aimee tugged at her friend, urging her away, tension lining her shoulders. Eloise wasn’t moving though.
And that’s when it dawned on me. I’d seen all the posts and videos and breakdown segments.
I’d seen the interviews and speculations and talk shows that had ripped her apart.
It would have come to a shock to no one that she’d disappeared off social media, probably hadn’t been going out much.
For as cruel as people could be online, I’m sure she got her fair share in person as well.
And here I was, recognizing her, coming off as an utterly creepy stalker—probably making a bunch of her worst fears come to life.
I tilted my head back and stared at the darkening sky.
“You know, I’ve never seen you fumble that hard before,” Zara quipped.
The hot chocolate was starting to dry on my skin, and I groaned at my sister’s sass.
Fuck.
Dammit.
I was such an idiot.