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“Oh, they’re about to not be dressed at all.”
My face falls. “Farrow.”
He just laughs and pulls me along. He lifts me under my arms and plops me down on the high counter, and I stare down at him as he removes my sneakers.
An older man in a faded, blue polo approaches, racks of skates rising behind him, but he doesn’t have a chance to speak before Farrow orders, “Size eight.”
The guy nods once and shoots off, searching for my size.
I lean back on my hands a little, looking down at Farrow Kelly on one knee at my feet. I could make a joke.
But I won’t. He’s the only Rebel who’s been consistently kind to me today, and that includes Hunter.
I sit still, keeping my eyes lowered and trying not to look for him as Farrow turns in my sneakers and takes the skates that appear on the counter.
Is Hunter here?
I feel him.
But I feel like they’re all watching me, and maybe my senses are just hyperaware.
I bend my knee, slipping my foot into the skate that sits on Farrow’s thigh, and he gets busy, lacing me up.
Unable to stop myself, I look up and scan the room. Aro and Quinn step onto the rink. Mace, Coral, Arlet, and a few others talk closely at a table, Mace’s eyes darting up to me.
No Hunter.
Pulling up my camera, I snap a picture of Farrow putting on my skates. I type up my post.
A Pirate’s Life for Me.
But then I delete the caption and just sayDitch Day B-day.
I don’t post the location. It won’t be hard for the Pirates to figure it out.
Farrow puts on my other skate. “Will the Pirates come?”
I shrug. “I don’t care.”
“They’d be stupid to.”
Yes, but the Pirates have let enough slide this week. Maybe they were waiting until after their game against St. Matthew’s tomorrow night. I don’t know, but…
“I think they’ll engage in some way,” I warn him.
He finishes lacing me up and gives my skate a little slap. “Good.”
I look down at him, and he looks up at me, and I don’t know what it is about him, but he always feels familiar. He has a bad reputation, and I don’t know if he’s just playing the long game with me, but so far, he hasn’t lived up to it. I’m happy about that.
“Why do you care about this rivalry?” I ask him, staying on the counter. “What do you get out of all of this?”
“Practice.”
“For what?”
He falls silent but holds my gaze.
I grin. “Come on, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
