Chapter 6 Austin
austin
It was officially my first day working with Ledger.
He was running a two-week sports camp for kids before the school year started.
Earlier in the day, before the kids arrived, Ledger had taken me around the rink, helping me get familiar with the space.
After eight hours of kids running around, the energy and noise filling every corner, I was completely spent.
We were packing up the equipment on the ice so the figure skaters could take over.
“Feel good to be back here?” Ledger asked, rubbing a hand through his beard.
“On the ice?”
Ledger nodded.
“Oh yeah. I was actually with Dirks yesterday to help him practice, but yeah, two days in a row, and I’m not used to it.”
He chuckled, and I grabbed some stray pucks and headed off the rink toward the rest of our stuff.
“I gotta head back to the office and do paperwork. Did your mom tell you to pick up Evie?”
“Yeah. Mom said I didn’t need to be there until three-fifteen.”
Ledger smiled and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “We really appreciate the help.”
This was awkward. I never had a male figure growing up, and even though Ledger had been in my life for six years, I couldn’t really explain our relationship.
“Oh, uh,” I stammered, not sure where to start, but I needed to ask him about the insurance situation, knowing my mom wasn’t paying me enough to cover the costs. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Anything.” Ledger started to grab the bag of extra pucks and sticks, and we walked in our skates down to the locker rooms.
“Um, so—” Why the fuck was this so hard? I needed to use or find my words and ask him. It was simple at its core, so why did I feel like I had to tread lightly?
Ledger, likely sensing my discomfort, shot me a quizzical look and sat on the benches. He started to unlace his skates. “Is everything okay?”
“No, yeah, everything’s fine.” I sighed and took a deep breath. “Listen. I wanted to talk to you about health insurance and stuff . . .”
This should’ve been a normal conversation to have with my employer.
And Ledger was my employer. So why was it so damn hard?
With him and my mom, I always felt judged, like they still saw me as the kid who always messed things up.
Did I screw things up with Nova? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Did I throw away my career because of my addiction? Also, yes.
I spent years—not months, years—working to get better. And yet, when no one met me at the airport or filled me in on basic things, like whether I had insurance through the job, it reminded me there was still this wall between us. Like they weren’t sure if I was steady enough to count on.
“I need to figure out my health insurance stuff. I had an appointment with my doctor yesterday, and they gave me a three-month supply of my meds, but I need the insurance to kick in. Otherwise I won’t be able to get to my therapy without paying out of my ass.
” I intentionally left out the part about what meds I was on.
Ledger shook his head and let out a sardonic laugh. “Dude.”
“Dude?” I repeated, tension rising in my chest.
Nothing about this was funny to me, so I didn’t understand why it seemed like a joke to him. I wasn’t catching any punchline.
“I thought it was clear this was a part-time job?” Ledger raised his eyebrow in question.
“There’s no health insurance. We can’t offer that.
Most of what we do is for families in need, and a lot of the coaches here are volunteers.
I only offered to pay you because I knew your mom wanted you here, and we had a spot for a paid coach—”
I sat down and ripped off my skates, swallowing the lump in my throat and fighting the burn in my eyes. The pressure in my chest was building, crawling up my neck. There was no health insurance. Nobody told me any of this when they asked me to uproot my life and move here from California.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I couldn’t speak without feeling like I was choking on a boulder lodged in my throat.
“I . . . My mom’s,” I muttered, shoving my skates into my bag, desperate to get out of the room. It felt suffocatingly tight, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
“What happened with that?”
I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the floor. “I turned twenty-six and got kicked off.”
“You could pay for it out of pocket?”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, no. I don’t have any money left after everything that’s happened.”
Ledger stood and placed a hand on my shoulder, but I jerked away, refusing to let him see how close I was to breaking down.
“I . . . I need to go pick up Evie.” I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Just before leaving, I paused, keeping my back to him. “See you at home, or maybe tomorrow at my part-time job.”
“Austin—”
I didn’t wait to hear what else he had to say. I didn’t care. I was alone in all this without therapy or medicine. It was just me, and I could barely trust myself still, even after all the hard work.
I couldn’t go back to therapy. My meds would run out. All I had was three months . . . and then nothing.
The ride to pick up Evie was a solid thirty minutes north.
Her school started the year earlier than most, and today was only her second day.
I pulled up to the school, parked exactly where I remembered being told, and walked to where the kids were dismissed.
My eyes were trained on the door, waiting for Evie.
I couldn’t afford to mess this up, not with everything else hanging over my head.
If I screwed this up, I’d be the one getting the blame, and I was tired of always being the one who dropped the ball.
I made sure to remember exactly which door to go to, where to park, and even what backpack Evie was wearing that morning. Every detail was locked in place.
On the drive up, I could’ve broken down, let everything get to me, but I didn’t. I kept going because I needed a plan. That’s all I had to hold onto—come up with a plan, keep it together. One thing at a time.
The school was an old brick building, with ivy creeping up the sides. I stood in front of door 3C. Parents were starting to gather in small clusters, chatting idly while they waited.
I was out of place. Most of the other parents were older, dressed in business casual or comfortable work clothes, while I stood there, definitely the youngest of the bunch, in my sweats.
Some glanced my way, probably wondering who I was waiting for, but I didn’t pay much attention.
I just kept my eyes on that door, focusing on making sure I didn’t screw this up.
Evie would be out any second, and I couldn’t afford to let my mind wander.
Finally, the bell rang, and I hadn’t realized what a mad dash dismissal would be.
I stood there, waiting and waiting, but there was no sign of Evie.
No curly blonde hair bouncing toward me.
No sparkly unicorn backpack bobbing in the crowd of kids.
Nothing. The anxiety crept up my spine, tightening my chest with each passing second.
Not today. Please, not today.
I kept glancing at the door, expecting her to come out any moment, but as more kids trickled out, the crowd started thinning. My pulse quickened.
Where is she?
It was definitely not my day. The pressure that had been building all afternoon swelled into panic, but I tried to keep it together, tried to remind myself there had to be an explanation.
Panic turned into action. I rushed inside the building, desperate to find someone who could tell me where she was. The front office, a teacher—anyone.
My mind was going a mile a minute.
I was frantic as I pushed open the office door, ringing the bell at the front desk. Someone had to know where—
“Whoa.” Someone with a voice laced with honey, soft and velvety, asked, “Is everything alright?” The hint of a Southern accent immediately cut through the chaos in my mind.
I looked up, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down.
The person speaking was breathtaking. She had long, wavy golden blonde hair that framed her face perfectly.
Her lips were thick and plush, the kind that seemed to naturally fall into a soft smile, and her large amber eyes were striking.
She was wearing a T-shirt that read something about being a kindergarten wrangler and a pair of fitted khaki pants.
I was shocked, completely stunned, and for a split second, I forgot why I was there. Forgot everything. Until it all rushed back, and the only word I could manage to blurt out was “Evie.”
She nodded a few times as if somehow my single word was a whole sentence. “Alright. She’s gotta be here somewhere.”
I hadn’t been completely taken aback by someone in a long time—years, maybe. There was something about her presence, in the warmth, that froze me.
“Thank you . . .”
Ms. Honey. I wanted to finish, and tell her she reminded me of honey, but I’d been able to hold back. She held the door open for me, her smile never faltering.
“Hi, Sue. I ran into this gentleman outside, and it appears he is missing his child—”
“My sister.”
Ms. Honey turned toward me and smiled, then turned back to the lady she was talking to.
“He’s missing his sister.” She looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded.
“What classroom is she in, sir?”
I pulled out the note where I’d written all the instructions and focused on it. That was when I noticed the slight tremble in my fingers.
Not now.
The shakes were back, and my anxiety was close to spiraling because I’d have to discern if they were from not drinking or the anxiety.
Ms. Honey reached down and held my hand where I was clutching the paper. “May I?”
I looked up and nodded again. She plucked the paper from my hand and read it a few times. “It looks like Evie Cole is in Ms. Samuels’s classroom this year, which is next to mine. It’s down the hallway.”
The lady at the front desk calmly reached for the phone and, from what I could tell, rang the classroom without a hint of urgency. My heart was still racing, but everyone else around me seemed so calm, like this was just another day.
I leaned in toward Ms. Honey, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why is everyone so calm right now?”
She giggled softly. “Oh, this happens all the time, especially with the little ones. If they don’t see their parents right away, they think they’ve been forgotten.” She glanced at me with those impossibly large, amber eyes. “I assume, since you said you’re her brother, you’re not her usual pickup?”
Her gaze held me there, and for a second, I completely lost track of the situation. The way her eyes sparkled—it was almost hypnotic. I stumbled over my words, trying to pull myself together. “I, uh, actually, I’m going to be her primary pickup from now on.”
She smiled so warmly and genuinely. There was something about her that made my pulse race for an entirely different reason.
“Good news,” the front desk lady said, interrupting whatever unspoken connection was happening. “Evie told her teacher she couldn’t find her mom or dad, so she went back to the classroom with Ms. Samuels.”
“That’s amazing. Thank you, Sue,” Ms. Honey said warmly, before turning toward me. “I’m going to escort Mr. Cole here to his sister.”
“Hart.” I corrected her instinctively. “It’s Austin Hart.”
“Alright then, Mr. Hart. Let’s go get your sister.”
She turned, holding the door open, and we walked down the hallway. “Wait,” she said as she handed me a paper. “Don’t forget this.”
I glanced down at the paper but couldn’t help awkwardly asking, “Where are you from? I mean, sorry—just . . . your accent.”
Her aura was so warm, her presence almost comforting in a way I wasn’t used to. I felt ridiculous for blurting it out like that, but she smiled, totally unfazed.
“Oh, it’s no problem. My accent is pretty strong, I know. I’m from a small town in Georgia.”
I nodded, trying to keep my cool as we made our way down the hallway.
“Are you new here?” I asked, trying to make small talk but feeling as though I was failing.
“Yeah. I just moved here. It’s my first year of teaching.”
“Congrats,” I said, and she pointed to a decorated door.
“This is you.”
“Thank you for bringing me here.”
She fumbled with the doorknob of the classroom next to the one she’d told me Evie was at, trying to get the keys in the lock. “Of course, Mr. Hart.”
“Just Austin.” I corrected her, easing the formality.
She chuckled softly. “That’s the third name I’ve called you in such a short time.”
I smiled. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Honey. I hope to see you again soon.”
She furrowed her brows. “Honey? No, my name is—”
I quickly bowed my head and stepped into Evie’s class, not wanting to hear her real name. She was Ms. Honey to me. She had so much warmth like the sweet liquid. It wasn’t her kindness, but the way she reminded me of the character from Matilda, the movie my mom used to play for me when I was a kid.
“Evie,” I called out, my voice full of relief as I spotted her in the classroom.
She was clinging to an elderly woman, her face streaked with tears. The sight of her made my heart ache. I dropped down to my haunches.
“Sweet girl,” I whispered, crouching down to Evie’s level. “Did Mom not tell you I was picking you up today?”
She shook her head, wiping at her tear-streaked face.
I stood up, turning to her teacher with an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about the confusion. I thought I was at the right door, but I must’ve missed her somehow.”
“Oh, absolutely not your fault. We were out on the playground this afternoon, so we dismissed from there. I sent an email to your parents earlier, letting them know, but they might’ve been tied up at work.”
Thank God I hadn’t completely messed this up. Relief washed over me, and I reached down for Evie’s hand. “How about we grab some ice cream to make up for this?”
Her face lit up, and she nodded eagerly, her small hand gripping mine.
I smiled at her teacher, grateful. “Thank you so much.”
As we made our way down the hallway, Evie skipping along beside me, I paused in front of Ms. Honey’s door.
Through the window, I could see her sitting at her desk, her long, wavy blonde hair catching the soft light as she typed away on her computer.
She looked so calm and at ease as she worked.
There was something magnetic about the way she carried herself.
I had to wonder if she dealt with the same demons I did.
I shook my head, snapping myself out of it, and gave Evie’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s go, little sis.”