He helps her stand. Checks her helmet. Checks her gloves. Makes sure she's actually okay.
Then he sends her back onto the ice with a gentle shove.
The entire interaction takes less than thirty seconds, yet somehow it settles into my chest and stays there.
Because he never hesitates, never waits to see if someone else will handle it, and never acts like Jillie is somebody else's responsibility.
And that is becoming a problem. A very large problem. One I absolutely do not intend to think about.
Unfortunately, the universe appears to have other ideas.
Around noon, Jennie, the fundraiser organizer, reappears.
This time she’s carrying a camera.
I know that look. I dislike that look.
"Sadie."
"No."
"You don't even know what I'm asking."
"Experience says I do."
The organizer ignores me. Come on we need promotional photos.
"No."
"Please."
"Still no."
"Come on."
Beside me, Jillie immediately perks up.
"I like pictures."
Traitor.
The organizer beams. "See? Someone understands teamwork."
I’m surrounded by enemies.
And for the next twenty minutes, photos happen everywhere.
Families.
Volunteers.
Sponsors.
Children.
Groups of skaters.
People holding giant donation checks.
