Chapter 8 #2
I clear my throat, ready to down, when a hand lands lightly on my arm. I glance down at where Vivian’s fingers rest against my sleeve, then back up at her. She’s already shaking her head, just a little, an easy “I’ve got this” in the tilt of it.
She steps past me like it’s nothing, like she didn’t just intercept whatever that was supposed to be, and moves to the end of the table.
“Okay,” she says, easy, warm, like she’s picking up a conversation instead of redirecting one. “We’re going to start with the basics today. Everyone’s got what they need in front of them, yeah?”
I stay where I am for a second, suddenly very aware I just tried to run a jewelry workshop like a penalty kill and got benched.
She stands at the end of the table where Frick and Frack are still sitting in charged, early hormonal silence.
“You’re right, Clara, we are making something today. I thought we’d start with something fun.” She smiles, warm, steady, her eyes drifting to find mine. “You’ve got all the ingredients in front of you for a friendship bracelet.”
Hannah’s hand shoots up immediately. “Uh, I’m sorry, but it’s materials, right? Because ingredients…wouldn’t that be a recipe?”
There’s a beat, and Vivian laughs, light and quick as she turns her attention to the girls. “Well, it’s a recipe for a bracelet, right?”
A few giggles break out, even Hannah manages to laugh at that, and the tension dissolves.
Someone’s hand shoots into the air. “So we get to keep our friendship bracelets?”
“You can, but we’re going to make them first then decide what to do with them, okay?”
Another hand goes up. “So, friendship bracelets, but we’re also gonna help design the trophy for our team?”
“Exactly.” Vivian nods. “Well, that’s today’s plan anyway. We’re going to work on all of it together.”
That does it. The room shifts. Shoulders drop. Eyes light up. They start talking over each other again, but this time it’s different. They’re excited, pulled in.
I stay near the doorway, watching it happen in real time. It’s like their supreme leader just walked in and flipped a switch.
Same group. Same noise. But where I’ve spent the last hour trying to get them to focus, she’s got them leaning in without even trying. I don’t know what she’s doing exactly, but it’s working in a way I can’t even begin to map out.
My thumb drags along the edge of my ring again, slowly, as I watch her move through the room.
She doesn’t take over the space, but somehow every single one of them orbits her anyway. Her instructions are clear and easy, but not loose so they can follow along. They’re already digging into the beads and cords, chairs scraping, voices lifting again, but this time it’s focused.
“Okay, so you’re going to pick your colors first,” she says, moving between tables. “Think favorite colors, team colors, whatever you want.”
Hands go up. Questions fire. She answers every single one without missing a beat.
I stay where I am, just inside the doorway, like I’m observing a drill I haven’t been taught yet.
“And don’t worry if it’s not perfect, it doesn’t have to be,” she adds. “We’re just getting started.”
I nod without realizing it, like that applies to me, too, when her gaze flicks up and lands right on me.
“I’m sorry,” she says, bright, friendly. “Did you need an invitation?”
“What?” The word comes out before I can stop it, and I feel it immediately. No, Ty. That was too loud, too sharp a tone. I step back, shoulder brushing the wall, like I’ve been singled out under a spotlight I didn’t see coming.
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Ty,” she says, pointing toward a seat at the front table, right near where she’s been setting things up. “I also have a spot for us up here.”
“I…” I glance at the girls, at the table, at her. “I don’t know what—”
“Well,” she cuts in gently, still smiling, “I don’t know about you and how you coach, but I like to do the same thing everyone else is doing. Right, girls?”
A chorus of nods and grins.
“You guys are making friendship bracelets, too?” one of them asks, eyes wide.
“Yes,” Vivian says, like it was always the plan. “The other day, Ty shared with me and Coach Emma his love of friendship bracelets, so in a way he inspired today’s activity. Come on up, Ty.”
There’s no real way out of it. Not without making it a thing, and I’ve already made enough of those today.
I push off the wall and walk over, aware of every step, every eye that might be on me, even if they’re not. The chair scrapes a little too loud as I pull it out and sit, shoulders tight, hands hovering like I’m waiting for instructions I should already understand.
There’s bracelet materials laid out in front of me. Cord. Beads. Colors I haven’t decided on because I didn’t know I’d be participating in arts and crafts today.
I look up at her. “Really?”
“Yes,” she says, already turning to help someone else before her attention snaps right back to me. “I need you to make a friendship bracelet. It’s the only way this is going to work. Thank you.”
I stare at her for a second, then down at the table, then back at her.
I thought she was a jewelry designer. Or someone who casually goes around kissing people when she needs to or it suits her. Turns out she’s also a general running an army. But let’s be real. From what I’ve seen as I’ve gotten to know her, I’d probably follow her anywhere.
A couple of the girls snicker when I sit down, like I’m the most entertaining thing they’ve seen all day. Which is fair considering I can barely fit at the table Vivian picked out for us.
Vivian doesn’t even look up as they laugh. “Alright,” she says, clapping her hands once lightly, just enough to pull them back in. “Everyone grab your cords. You’re going to start by choosing your colors and threading your beads. Take your time. There’s no rush.”
Chairs scrape. The room settles as everyone gets busy with their project. Vivian drops into the chair beside me like it was always where she was headed.
“Okay,” she says, already reaching for her cord. “We’re going to start simple.”
I watch her hands. That’s the easiest way for me to learn. Follow the pattern. Copy the movement. She picks up a bead, threads it through, pulls it down with practiced ease.
I do the same. My fingers pause when I actually look at what’s in front of me. The letters laid out on my tray.
S-T-R-E-N-G-T-H.
I glance sideways at her. “What is this?”
She doesn’t look up right away, just threads another bead before answering. “I picked out words for everyone. Something empowering.”
I look back down at mine. “So…strength.”
Now she glances at me, a twinkle in her eye. “Yes.”
She taps her own tray. “Mine’s peace.” Then she gestures lightly across the table. “Positivity over there. Empowerment. Courage. Confidence.”
I track where she’s pointing, see the girls already sorting through their letters, some of them sounding the words out under their breath like they’re testing how they feel.
“And these are for us to keep?” I ask.
That gets her attention. She turns her head, really looks at me this time, and there’s something almost amused in her expression.
“Oh, Ty,” she says, her tone sarcastic and playful, but smiling. “Is this your first friendship bracelet?”
I frown slightly. “What?”
She shakes her head, like she’s deciding not to unpack that. “Just be quiet and make your bracelet.”
I’ve got no energy left to argue or even ask any more questions. So I do. I pick up the S, thread it through. Then the T. Then the R.
Beside me, she works at an easy pace, steady, unhurried. Every now and then, she leans over to help one of the girls, adjusting something, offering a quiet “that looks great” or “try flipping it to the left.”
The room has become something I didn’t expect. It’s quiet and the energy is steady. There’s no arguing or talking over each other, simply the light clink of beads, the murmur of voices, the occasional burst of laughter that fades just as quickly as it comes.
I focus on what’s in front of me: the pattern. The repetition. The way the cord tightens between my fingers, the way each bead clicks into place.
At some point, I realize it’s been a while since anyone raised their voice. Time slips without me noticing.
One minute I’m threading the last bead into place, the next Vivian’s tying off her bracelet, fingers quick and precise as she knots the cord and snips the ends with a small pair of scissors.
She stands, clapping her hands once. “Okay, everybody, you’ve got two minutes left to finish your bracelets.”
The room’s energy changes instantly as chairs scoot, voices lift, and a sudden urgency strikes as everyone leans over their work, racing to get the last beads on.
It’s like watching the final few minutes of a baking challenge on The Great British Bake Off.
Intense and dramatic, but also threaded with joy and happiness.
I glance down at my bracelet and pump a fist in the air. Done.
Vivian makes her way around the room, stopping at each girl, gathering the loose ends of their bracelets, tying them off, snipping the extra cord with the same easy efficiency.
When she gets to me, she doesn’t say anything, just takes the ends, ties a neat knot, trims it clean, and gives a small, satisfied nod like I passed some kind of unspoken test before she moves to the center of the room.
“Alright,” she says, bright, drawing them in again. “Everyone, look at the bracelet in front of you.”
They do. A quiet falls, curious, expectant.
“Now,” she continues, “I want you to take that bracelet…and give it to someone. Give it to the person you’re sitting with.”
There’s a beat before Hannah’s hand goes up. “Um…but I really like the one that I have.”
Vivian smiles. “What word do you have?”
“Confidence.”
She nods. “Okay. Does giving it away mean you’re not confident?”
Hannah hesitates. “No…”
“It means you’re gifting some of your confidence to someone else,” Vivian says gently. “So turn to the person next to you, and I want you to give that to them.”
I watch as Hannah turns to her left. Clara’s sitting there, already looking at her, a little unsure. Like Hannah may wrap that bracelet around her neck and she won’t be able to stop her.
But, Hannah holds out the bracelet and…wait a second. Do I see a little shadow of a smile on her face? “Here, Clara. I want you to have it.”
“Really? Thanks, Hannah.” Clara’s face lights up, like she wasn’t expecting that. “You can have mine,” she says, fumbling slightly as she passes hers over. “It’s positivity.”
Hannah takes hers and they both laugh, a little awkward, a little shy, and then—like it’s nothing—they lean in and hug.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah says.
“It’s okay,” Clara laughs as they giggle.
I stare at them.
Teenage girls. It’s official. I will never understand them. Those two were at each other all morning, ready to go to war over a missed pass, and now they’re sitting here trading bracelets and hugging each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I glance up at Vivian, who winks at me. Of course this was the plan.
Bracelets start moving around the room, hands reaching, words trading places like they mean something bigger than string and beads.
“I’ve got courage—here, you take it.”
“Wait, then you get mine. It says teamwork.”
“No, you need mine.”
“Here. Patience.”
“Thank you!”
There’s laughter, a few shy smiles, more hugs. It keeps happening, over and over, like some kind of quiet chain reaction. I sit back, watching it unfold, trying to map it out in a way that makes sense. It doesn’t.
I picture the guys at the rink. Me standing in the locker room, holding up a handful of beaded bracelets. “Alright, everyone, pick a word. We’re going to talk about our feelings.”
I huff out a breath under my nose. Yeah. That would go over well.
A shadow falls in front of me, and before I can fully look up, Vivian’s there.
“And I want to make sure you have mine,” she says.
She takes my hand before I can respond, her fingers warm around my wrist as she slides the bracelet on. The word settles against my skin.
Peace.
I look down at it. Of all the words she could’ve picked…I don’t know her. Not really. But somehow she landed on the one I would’ve chosen without saying it out loud.
My gaze lifts back to her. “I guess I should give you the one I made?”
“You don’t have to,” says with a wink. “But it is kind of the rule. If you’re giving your friendship bracelet away, you’re making a friend.”
I hesitate for half a second, then reach for her wrist. Her skin is warm. Softer than I expect. I turn the bracelet in my fingers, guiding it over her hand, careful without really meaning to be.
“I give you strength,” I say.
The words land somewhere between a joke and something else entirely.
I stretch the bracelet to place it on her wrist, and my fingers linger for a second longer than they should.
She stills suddenly, only for a second, but I feel it.
The slight catch in her breath. The shift in the air between us. Like something just tilted off balance.
Her hand slips from mine, quick, almost like she didn’t mean to let me hold on to it in the first place. She then turns back to the room a little too fast.
“Okay,” she says, clapping once, a touch off rhythm now. “Okay, you guys, so, um, the part we talked about. The trophy. Let’s all huddle in a circle in the middle to talk about it.”
The girls move instantly, dragging chairs, gathering in a loose circle, still buzzing from the bracelet exchange.
She glances over at me, just for a second. Then back to them.
“You know what, Ty?” she says, voice steadier now. “I can take it from here with the girls if you need to do anything out in the arena.”
I look around, like I’ve got somewhere to be. Like there’s a plan I’m stepping back into.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing to my feet. “I’ll, uh—go get things ready. Pick up out there.”
She waves a hand, already turning back to the group as I step out into the hallway. The noise of the room softens behind me as the door swings closed.
And for a second, I just stand there, then I glance down at my wrist.
Peace.
I let out a quiet breath and start down the hall. I’ve learned a lot in the last hour.
About groups of girls.
About how fast things can change.
And definitely about Vivian.