Chapter 36 Eleanor
ELEANOR
Idropped Ava off at school with a kiss to her blue hair and a reminder to turn in her library books, even though I knew she’d forget and I’d end up paying the fine anyway.
Tomorrow was the last day of school.
Tomorrow.
Which meant . . . tomorrow night.
The sleepover. For the kids. And for us.
I walked back to the car on autopilot, waving to a few parents, nodding at the principal, barely registering any of it because my brain was too busy replaying Alex’s voice from yesterday:
“End-of-school sleepover. Kids at Becca’s. You with me.”
It echoed in my head like someone had etched it into the inside of my skull.
I thought about it the whole drive home, what it would mean, what it wouldn’t mean, what I wanted, what scared me, what felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, and also the beginning of something bright, warm, and terrifying in the best way.
Part of me felt sixteen again, nervous and fluttery and unsure what to do with my hands.
The other part, the part that lost Ethan, the part that rebuilt itself molecule by molecule, felt older, steadier, but still scared to trust something new.
I wanted to trust it.
I wanted him.
A lot.
My stomach swooped at the thought, and I actually had to remind myself to focus on the road before I hit a recycling bin.
By the time I pulled into my mother’s driveway, the butterflies had multiplied into a full migratory flock.
I turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, hands resting on the steering wheel, forehead dropping forward until it touched the leather.
“Okay,” I whispered to no one. “Breathe.”
My phone buzzed on the seat next to me. I was Mel.
“Hello,” I said, trying to squash the nerves. I’d hadn’t heard about try-outs yet, and they had said we would hear by the end of the week.
“Eleanor, are you ready to be a Grimm Reaper?!”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course, I am. You were an easy choice. What do ya say? Wanna join the chaos?”
“Yes!” I said, bouncing up and down in my seat. “I’m so excited!”
“Awesome! It’s going to be great. First practice tomorrow if you're ready. Welcome to the Reapers.”
“I’ll be there!”
I hung up and was ready to run inside and tell Belle. She should be here today. She had missed Monday, but surely she wouldn’t miss two days in a row. My mom would have a conniption.
I tried not to worry. Belle was busy. People missed things. Life happened.
But today?
Today she’d said she’d definitely be here.
I climbed out of the car, but the driveway was empty.
No van. No Belle.
A prickling unease crept up my spine.
I slipped into the house quietly. Ridiculous, really. I lived here. I was a grown woman with a child and a career. And yet the moment my shoes hit the hardwood, I instinctively softened my steps, like a teenager trying not to get caught sneaking back after curfew.
Old habits. Old wounds.
The house was silent, tightly, purposefully silent. My mother’s preferred form of warfare. Since my sister left, she hadn’t said a word to me. Not one. Not even a passive-aggressive hmm.
She’d given Ava a stiff nod this morning, but that was it.
It should’ve hurt. A few months ago, it would’ve gutted me.
But now?
Now I just felt . . . tired of it.
I crept upstairs, not to avoid her wrath, but because I didn’t want to deal with her. Not today. Not now that I was a Reaper.
I sank onto my bed and opened my laptop. Might as well check email while I waited to see if Belle magically materialized.
Two new messages.
The first subject line hit me right in the chest:
Scholastic Contract – Ready for Signature
My breath froze.
My heart didn’t just skip a beat. It tripped, stumbled, and faceplanted into a wall.
I clicked it open. There it was. The contract. My contract. For Little Derby Girls.
My hand covered my mouth as I scrolled, eyes blurring.
Then I saw the second email, from my agent:
All set! Scholastic is thrilled. Advance payment coming through by the end of the month. Congrats, Eleanor. This is big. Proud of you.
I didn’t realize I was crying until a tear hit my keyboard.
Big.
It was more than big.
It was freedom.
It was the door opening. It was a way out of this house. A way to give Ava space to grow and breathe. A way to give myself that space, too.
I pressed my palms to my cheeks, laughing and crying at the same time.
We could do it. We could leave. We could leave soon.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Alex.
Simple.
Alex - Good morning, El. Hope you have a good day. You deserve one.
I smiled so hard my face ached.
Eleanor - I think I might.
And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I meant it.
The day went on, I worked and perfected my pages for the first book, and started storyboarding book two.
I was in the zone. After I picked Ava up from school, I dropped her off with Becca to play with Leo while I had my first practice.
Then, it would be mine and Alex’s first night together.
I wasn’t sure what I was more nervous about.
Alex was coming with me just to watch. We pulled out of the lot and headed toward the rink, the silence between us comfortable but charged. My knee bounced despite my best efforts to keep still.
I rolled my shoulders, mentally running through everything Belle and Mel had drilled into me. Stay low. Bend your knees. Don’t apologize for taking up space.
Hit like you mean it, or don’t hit at all.
Alex glanced over. “You’re thinking loud again.”
I huffed a breath. “Am I that obvious?”
“To me?” He smiled. “Yeah.”
I swallowed. “I just . . . I want to be good.”
“And,” he added softly, “you’re also thinking about tonight.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Maybe.”
His expression stayed warm, steady. No pressure. No expectation.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
“I know,” I said quickly. Then, slower, more honestly, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
He waited.
“I’m excited,” I admitted. “About being with you. About . . . us.” I laughed under my breath. “You’re treating me like your girlfriend, and I like it. A lot. But it also makes everything feel very real.”
He reached for my hand again, threading our fingers together this time. “It is real.”
That simple certainty made my throat tighten.
“I haven’t wanted something like this in a long time,” I said. “Not derby. Not . . . someone.”
He squeezed my hand. “Then let’s take it one thing at a time.”
The rink came into view, my stomach flipping.
“One thing at a time,” I echoed.
Practice first. Tonight second. Breathing always.
“You’ve got this,” he said. “And I’ll be right there.”
I nodded, heart pounding.
The rink rose out of the twilight like a cathedral of bad decisions and neon lighting. Concrete. Steel. The kind of place where you either fall in love or break something important.
Alex slowed as we pulled into the lot, tires crunching over gravel. I watched the rink doors, the way people moved in and out with skate bags slung over their shoulders, laughing, stretching, already sweaty. Derby girls. My people, even though I still felt like I was borrowing the word.
My hands were in my lap, clenched around nothing.
Alex didn’t even look at me at first. He just reached over and took one of them, warm and solid, like he knew exactly how much I needed grounding.
“Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied, because of course I did.
He smiled, not calling me on it, just rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “You’re nervous.”
“These women hit each other for fun.”
“They do,” he agreed. “But you already made the team. You survived Mel screaming at you like a drill sergeant.”
“That was character building.”
“That was you being a badass.”
I huffed out a breath. “I don’t feel like one.”
He finally turned toward me, all seriousness, that steady Alex gaze that soothed me. “You don’t have to be fearless. You just have to show up. You already did the hardest part.”
I looked away before he could see it, nodding once. “Okay. Let’s go get my ass kicked.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Inside, the rink music was already thumping through the speakers, some angry, glorious anthem that made my heart beat a little faster.
Mel spotted me first and threw both arms up like she’d just seen a long-lost soldier return from war. Belle was next to her, grinning like she’d already decided I belonged.
“EL!” Mel yelled. “You ready to suffer?”
“Emotionally or physically?” I called back.
“Yes.”
The rest of the team was scattered around the rink, stretching, taping wrists, chatting. Some faces I recognized, some new ones. All of them looked like they knew what they were doing. All of them looked so sure of their bodies, their skates, their right to take up space.
I swallowed.
Alex squeezed my hand one more time. “I’ll be right there.” He nodded toward the benches. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” I said, even though the part of me that had been abandoned once didn’t believe it.
I pulled on my gear with hands that wouldn’t quite stop shaking. Pads. Helmet. Mouthguard. Mel’s voice echoed in my head.
Knees soft. Chin up. Trust your edges. Don’t apologize for taking space.
Belle’s voice layered over it, warm and fierce.
You deserve to be here. You deserve to be seen.
I rolled out onto the floor with the other women, falling into a loose circle as we started warming up. Skating laps. Crossovers. Little bursts of speed. I watched everyone out of the corner of my eye. I noticed how smooth they were, how confident.
Alex was there, elbows on his knees, watching me like I was the only thing happening in the room. When our eyes met, he smiled, soft, proud, like he already believed in me more than I did myself.
Something inside me steadied. Okay. I rolled my shoulders back, bent my knees, and pushed off harder into my next lap.
I was here.
I was ready.