Chapter 45
lukas
I could almost hear the crowd from that day. The energy that had filled this place—thrumming off the walls and bodies that filled the stands. I remembered the sounds of my footsteps as I walked the concrete halls, the first up close view I got of Aimee as I tried to catch Zara.
I let out a breath.
She hadn’t seen me yet. I’d arrived early ahead of my parents and Zara.
I wanted to talk to her before the trial.
I watched her walk into the rink, oversized hoodie drowning her frame, hood pulled low over her head and face. She seemed smaller than she had, like a weight was bearing down on her, curving her shoulders in, and hunching her over.
I’d slipped in behind her, and watched as she climbed her way to a row almost at the top and slouched in her seat. She pushed the hood back to adjust her hair before pulling it back over her head.
My chest hurt at the sight of her.
She looked exhausted. Dark bags hung under her eyes—eyes that were filled with such desolate sadness. The girl who was opening up, finding the fun in life again seemed to be missing. Seeing her there—I wanted to do nothing more than pull her into my arms and hold her, hugging her tight.
We needed to talk before anything like that happened.
Mom and Dad had spotted me before I could get to Aimee.
Zara was excited but nervous. Mom fussed over me—she’d barely seen me since the accident—her work had kind of gone off the rails as soon as they got stateside, so she’d been busy.
My wrist was back to normal, and the tweak in my knee was taking a little longer to heal, but the bruises and scrapes were long gone. I was fine.
Petyr and I were already talking about the next Olympic push. In a crazy turn of events, the whole race had been discredited for Olympic qualifiers after five more skiers wiped out—the course was deemed unsafe—something that rarely occurred in the sport.
Those who had already completed the run kept their scores towards their national rankings, and those who wiped out, or didn’t get to compete were given complimentary scores within their own personal averages.
The qualifier was being rescheduled for a later date and everyone was being invited back to participate.
It was unprecedented—Petyr had been shocked and he’d been coaching for years.
Honestly, I couldn’t have cared less when it was announced.
My thoughts had been nothing but Aimee for weeks.
And there she was.
She hadn’t noticed me yet, her eyes were focused on Zara.
I started climbing the stairs as the music started, knowing she’d be distracted, not paying attention to her surroundings.
I walked down the aisle towards her—her hood blocked her peripheral vision, so it wasn’t until I sat down in the seat next to her, that her head turned in my direction.
Aimee’s eyes went wide and then watery. Her chin and lower lip started to wobble.
“It appears Eloise might have been right about me. I think I might be stalking you,” I said.
“Hi,” she breathed out.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, and I reached out and wiped them away.
One moment she was in her seat, hands clutching the armrests, and then in the next moment, she launched herself at me.