Chapter Twenty
W hen did I become the type of love interest in the rom-com who runs away from the one thing they’ve always wanted? I mean, come on. It’s a cliché at this point.
A pathetic, overused cliché.
But somehow, we’re still here.
I’ve never self-loathed as hard as I have today.
From the moment I woke up and found my bed empty, Mason having already left for his team trip, I’ve been spiraling.
My heart has been aching in a way I didn’t even know was possible, as if a piece of it left with him and the rest is crying out in agony.
But I can’t let that consume every thought because this week starts the change in schedule for the practices for my Mini Mammoths.
The summer program is ending, and the fall one is beginning. Instead of night classes three days a week, they are now two days a week at three thirty p.m.
But I wish we had it every day the rest of this week for nine hours a day to distract myself from the never-ending thoughts of Mason. But it’s not, and I’m sure it wouldn’t make much of a difference, as I’ve been distracted by him the entire time I’ve been on the ice this afternoon.
“Ms. Daphne?” Patty, the sweetest redhead girl who always wears her hair in pigtails, skates over to me.
I bend down to greet her at her level. “Yes, ma’am?” I push away every thought but her and skating. “What can I do for you?”
She cocks her head to the side. “Is Mr. Mason going to be coming to visit anymore?”
“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know. He’s a hockey player, and he’s a student here. His schedule is very busy now.”
She juts out her bottom lip. “Dang it. He was teaching me how to play hockey.”
“Oh, was he? When was that?” I ask her, taken aback.
“On Tuesdays. But you know that. You were the one who told us about it and showed us tricks after that one practice. He said he’d still come to my ice-skating practices, but he’s not here today.”
Me? Oh, as in me when Mason was in my body.
I haven’t had any complaints from the parents that the classes he taught in my body were off task or about hockey. I certainly would’ve heard from some of them had that been the case. Besides, there was only one that I wasn’t present for, when I had to go show up at a hockey meeting on his behalf.
“I will talk to him and see when he can come visit, okay?”
She brightens up instantly.
“Have you been having fun learning hockey?”
Her eyes light up in a way I’ve never seen.
Her voice is soft and quiet, like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear, “I looooove it so much. More than skating. I wish I could just practice hockey. But even Mr. Mason says this class is good for me to learn my balance. And my mom really wants me to do this one and not hockey.”
My eye twitches at her words. “I think if that’s your passion, then you should pursue that, Patty.”
She looks from side to side. “I don’t think my mom would like that very much. She loves me doing this. She only agreed to the hockey lessons with Mr. Mason because they’re free.”
My heart aches for a whole new reason today. It’s not that her mom doesn’t support her passions, it’s just that hockey might be out of the budget.
“How about we make a deal?”
She nods and listens with eagerness.
“How about I talk to your mom and tell her how good of a hockey player you are and that we want to sponsor your membership for Mini Mammoths hockey so that you can attend the full program for free? Not just lessons with Mason. They’re on a different schedule, so if you want to stay in figure skating, you can.
Or if you want to do just hockey, that is perfectly fine too. ”
“Really? For free?” she whispers aggressively. “Do you think Mason would help though too?”
I nod. “I’m sure I could talk to him and see if he’d be able to help sometimes. And, yes, it’ll be free. Pinkie promise.”
She lifts her pinkie in the air, and I wrap mine around it and seal the deal.
“Thank you, Ms. Daphne!”
She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tightly. My heart warms at her affection, and for a moment, I feel whole and fulfilled, brimming with happiness and purpose.
This is what I’m meant to do.
I still can’t believe that man has been secretly teaching her hockey lessons, but I can’t even fathom being upset with him for poaching my skater.
Clearly, it’s a passion of hers, and I want her to pursue it. I just wonder why he didn’t tell me.
Not that he owed that to me. Or that he has to tell me everything that he does in his free time, but … ugh, why am I annoyed he didn’t tell me when I couldn’t even form a full goddamn sentence when he told me he loved me?
And now we’re back to that spiral.
Can someone just take my brain away for a day so I can be numb and not think? Because these thoughts are becoming overwhelming and I can only avoid them for so long.
Patty skates off, my last student on the ice from class today, and I follow her. I change from skates to tennis shoes before walking out of the rink and heading to my Jeep.
I want to do nothing the rest of the day, except rot on my couch, eat unhealthy food, and watch one of my comfort movies.
I know I need to figure out what I want between Mason and me, but is it weird that for a split second, I feel numb? Like I’m standing in front of a wall, and I know once I crawl over it, I can’t ever go back. Something about that is terrifying, even if I know that what I want is on the other side.
As if Maeve can sense her bestie about to have a breakdown, she texts me.
Maeve: I’m home. Need some Daphne snuggles. WYA?
Me: Heading home now. And same here. I need your advice.
Maeve: Here to serve you, My Queen. :)
Tucking my phone away, I drive out of the parking lot and head home, my heart beating through my chest and lodging itself in my throat. The sensation doesn’t seem to fade, even when I pull into the driveway and walk inside the house, spending the next few minutes filling Maeve in.
“I don’t know what to do,” I murmur, resting my head on her shoulder and whining like a big baby.
I filled her in on everything—well, aside from the body swapping and the graphic sexual details. But every other detail has been laid out for her evaluation.
She pets my head, running her hand over my hair to soothe me as we watch the soon-to-be Princess of Genovia, Mia Thermopolis Renaldi, slip and fall in between the bleachers at her high school.
“Do you want to be with him?” she asks as if it’s such a simple question.
I take too long to think, and she pokes me on the side of the head.
“What are you thinking?”
“That there’s no easy answer to that.”
“Why?” she asks, dumbfounded by my response.
I sigh. “Because I also used to want to be an astronaut figure skater as a kid, but I couldn’t exactly make that work regardless of what I wanted .”
She bops my forehead gently. “Those are not the same thing.” I melt into her lap, and she turns my head to look up at her. “Do you want to be with him?”
Something wet rolls down my cheek, and it takes me a second to realize I’m crying. My eyes burn, and my throat feels clogged as I try to form words over and over, failing every time.
“Daphne Summers,” she snaps at me, and I sit up straight from her tone, turning to face her.
“What?” I murmur, scared at the angry mom voice that I just heard for the first time.
“Have you forgotten who you are? That you’re Daphne fucking Summers. A hot bitch who can get any man she wants. Who’s funny, smart, talented, and one hell of a woman.”
“Okay, but you’re my bestie. You have to think those things.” I roll my eyes, and a burst of stinging heat breaks across my cheek. It takes me a second to register what just happened as I cup my face. “Did you just slap me?”
She nods proudly.
The cloudiness that was drowning me out a moment ago does seem to clear up quite a bit from the shock.
“I needed that.”
“I know,” she agrees and moves on. “Now pull yourself out of this slump. It’s time to face the choir, babe.”
“That is such an old saying, Grandma.” I laugh.
She shrugs. “Now I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want to be with him? Don’t overthink it. Don’t analyze the possibilities. Just answer the question?—”
“Yes!” I interrupt her, and a dam behind my eyes breaks free, tears streaming down my face like a waterfall. “Yes, I want to be with him. More than anything. But?—”
Now she cuts me off, “But what? But there’s a chance it won’t work out? There’s a chance he’ll leave again, like last time?”
I nod slowly, folding my legs up into my chest.
She takes my hand in hers. “Honestly, Daph, I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve known him literally my entire life, and I know for a fact that he loves you and he’s not going anywhere if it’s up to him.”
“Wrong,” I correct her. “He is going somewhere. At the end of the year, he’s moving across the country for his pro team And then what?
Do we live in a honeymoon bubble for a handful of months and then try to make long distance work?
End things when he moves? I can’t do that, Mae.
I can’t face a heartbreak from him again. The last one was hard enough.”
She looks at me, a thousand emotions fluttering through her hazel eyes, and she shakes her head.
“You, of all people, Daphne, are scared of love.” She scoffs and nearly laughs.
“The girl who has dedicated years of her spare time watching romantic comedies and obsessing about finding a love like in the movies—she can’t even see that she’s in a story all her own.
In the final act, where the two main characters find their way to one another, and regardless of what lies ahead, they choose each other because of their love, not because of the what-ifs. ”
I sniffle, my breath quickening, as if the missing piece from my mind is finally sliding into place and I’m forced to face the truth that’s been there all along.
I’ve been in love with Mason for years, and that never changed. I just shriveled it up in the back of my mind and heart, trying to avoid it for as long as possible.
Because I’m scared, absolutely petrified. But not because I’m scared of loving him, but because I’m scared of him loving me.
What if he sees everything behind the curtain and decides that he doesn’t like all of me? What happens after the big finale kiss and the happily ever after? When The End appears on-screen and the movie ends, what’s next?
The movies don’t show us that. We don’t have a playbook for navigating life after the credits, and I think that’s what worries me most.
“Now, are you going to get the guy, or are you going to run and hide?” Maeve asks.
Sitting up taller, I wipe under my eyes and smile. “I’m going to need your help.”
“That’s what best friends are for, babe.”