39. Maisie
MAISIE
T he moment I step off the ice, the world feels like it’s spinning.
Not from the routine—I’ve done it a thousand times. But from the rush of adrenaline, the heat under my skin, and the pounding of my heart that still hasn’t settled.
My mind is reeling, thinking about the face I saw in the stands—the face I thought I’d never see up there.
My mom’s here. She actually showed up.
For a moment, my mind wobbles. Like maybe I imagined it, the way I used to when I was little, squinting into the bleachers, desperate to find her among strangers. Maybe I made her up to survive the silence she left behind. But no, she was there. Right there. Next to my boyfriend.
Coach pulls me aside, claps me on the shoulder, and nods. “You did it, Maisie. That triple loop was sharp. One of your strongest skates.”
I nod, breathless, still clutching the towel she handed me. My dress clings to my back, the sequins glinting under the overhead lights. I slide onto the bench near the kiss-and-cry, my body buzzing, and my eyes fixed on the scoreboard as numbers begin to roll in.
Personal best .
The crowd erupts again, but it all fades into background noise.
As the next skater steps onto the ice, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and notice my mom, slowly making her way down the bleachers.
She pauses at the barrier, just a few feet away, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
Everything about her is perfect—her outfit, her posture, her hair slicked into a twist without a strand out of place. But her eyes…
Her eyes are red-rimmed. Glassy. Like she’s been crying.
“Maisie,” she says, her voice thin.
I stare at her, my heart lodged somewhere in my throat. “You really came.”
She nods, blinking fast like she’s trying not to fall apart. “You were…” Her voice catches. “You were beautiful out there.”
I shift awkwardly, not sure where to put my hands. “It was… okay.”
“No.” Her voice is firm, but soft. “It was more than okay. I—” She swallows hard, voice breaking. “I’m sorry it took me this long to see it for myself.”
I stare at the wall behind her, pretending not to feel the weight in my chest.
“There’s no excuse for missing all the ones that already passed. I just… I wish I had been there.”
I can’t meet her eyes. “I invited you every time.”
“I know.”
“I emailed you links. I found competitions near your work. I told you I’d pay for your gas.”
“I know, sweetie.”
My gaze finally lifts to hers. Her hands are trembling where they clutch her purse, knuckles white.
“Why now?” I ask her, wondering why she suddenly decided to show up.
She presses her lips together, letting out a sigh. “I got a message from a boy named Austin.”
My breath catches.
“He told me you’d never ask me to come again, but that you deserved someone there. That you’ve been working so hard. That you shine on the ice. And that you’d never say it, but you still hoped I’d show up.”
I press my hand to my chest, my heart pounding beneath my palm. “He told you that?”
She nods slowly. “It wasn’t a long message. But it was enough to make me feel ashamed for not being there sooner.”
My mouth opens, but the words don’t come.
Austin .
He made this happen. He reached out to her.
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
I take a shaky breath, scanning the hallway until my eyes land on him.
He’s leaning against the vending machines. When our eyes meet, he straightens up and his lips widen into a smile.
“He’s very handsome,” my mom says, nodding in his direction.
I laugh softly, turning back to her. “He knows it.”
She laughs under her breath. “And he clearly adores you. I watched him the entire time you were out there. He didn’t blink once.”
I smile, the sound of her voice easing the tight knot in my chest. I step forward and wrap my arms around her. Her hand finds the back of my head, fingers threading gently through my hair, and I close my eyes, just letting myself lean into it for a second.
“I’m really proud of you, sweetie,” she whispers.
My throat tightens, my eyes stinging, but I nod as I pull back.
She’s looking past me now, and when I glance over my shoulder, I see him.
Austin, standing a few feet away, watching us. His eyes are on me like always, like I’m the only thing he sees in a crowded room.
I turn and walk toward him, and he doesn’t wait. He meets me halfway.
“Hey,” he says, with a huge smile on his face. “You were amazing.”
“You emailed my mom?”
His smile vanishes as his eyes widen and he holds his hands up. “Uh… I plead the fifth.”
I breathe out a quiet laugh. Then I lift up on my toes, slide one hand behind his neck, and kiss him.
His arms wrap around my waist instantly, pulling me in like he needs me close.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper against his lips.
“I wanted to,” he murmurs. “You deserve to have people show up for you.”
He brings his hands to my cheeks, thumbs brushing softly over my skin. His gaze is warm and full of so much pride it nearly undoes me. “I’m proud of you, Mais. So fucking proud.”
I blink rapidly, trying to hide the flush creeping up my neck. “Stop it.”
“I’m serious,” he insists. “That last spin? I almost fainted.”
I bury my face in his shoulder, laughing softly. “You’re so dramatic.”
“You were glowing out there,” he says. “Like your body just knew what to do. I couldn’t look away.”
My cheeks go even hotter, but I don’t move. I just breathe him in, hiding in the space where I feel safest.
“I love when you get like this,” he teases. “All flustered and pink. It’s my favorite look on you.”
I pull back and narrow my eyes at him. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” he grins. “You love me. And I love you. And I’m gonna keep screaming your name from the stands until they throw me out.”
I let out a laugh, my heart feeling so full I can’t contain it. “You’re annoying.”
“Yeah, well.” He boops my nose. “You’re dating me, so what does that say about you?”
I roll my eyes. “I have terrible taste.”
“Rude,” he mutters with a frown.
I laugh, and slip my hand into his. His fingers curl around mine like they’ve always belonged there, tugging me close until I’m pressed to his side, warm and steady and home.
Then he goes quiet for a second. “So, uh… do I have to talk to your mom now?”
I can’t help but laugh, lifting an eyebrow. “Are you scared of my mom?”
He shrugs, blowing out a breath “She’s got courtroom energy. I feel like if I say the wrong thing she’ll get me arrested.”
“C’mon,” I say with a laugh. “You’ll be fine.”
His hand flexes in mine and we walk toward where my mom is standing.
Austin’s eyes widen, and he lifts his hand in greeting. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Austin.”
“I know,” she replies. “We talked before.”
“Right.” He blows out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Well… I just thought I’d introduce myself properly.”
“Thank you for writing to me,” she says after a moment. “You were right. I needed to see her. And I’m very glad I did.”
Austin breathes out, relieved.
“I’m really happy she has you,” she adds. “You seem like a wonderful boy.”
He glances down at me, his eyes shining when he smiles. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
My chest tightens, and I have to blink fast to hold it together.
He leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then the tip of my nose, and finally my lips. I lean into him, kissing him back, because it feels like home. Like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Because this is what I always dreamed it might feel like, to be held like this. To be wanted. To be seen. Not just by him—but by her too.
And it feels better than I ever thought it could be.