“You said that twice. So, is he nice or are you just saying that to cover up the fact that he isnotnice?” Before I can open my mouth to answer she makes up her own one and nods to herself. “Anyway, does he know that you’re using him to skate?”
“I’m not using him, Gigi. But – The thing is-” She cuts me off my standing up out of her blanketed corner of the room.
“Okay. As long as he knows that then I’m okay with it. Thank you for coming to tell me that,” she says, and I nod, unsure as to how to go about this. “Now can you get out because it’s getting closer to my time in the night, and I don’t want you here for that.”
“Do you have to kick me out every time? You need to update me on your schedule changes, so we don’t have to do this ritual every time,” I groan, standing up from the bed. She blinks at me. “Okay. I’ll speak to you later. We need to hang out with the girls soon.”
“Fine. As long as it’s not anytime within the next week because I need to work on my book. Strict deadlines and all,” Gigi explains, walking me out of her bedroom. A slight pang runs through me at the mention of her dedication to her writing. Even with every other force in the world tries to tell her that a nineteen-year-old can’t write, she still preservers. She has the biggest smile on her face while she ushers me out of her house.
After an enlightening talk with Gigi, I trudge towards my locker room on the campus rink and change into a black leotard with tights and fluffy socks. I bring my skates to the rink and luckily no one is here. It’s still early, around seven, so most people are on their way home from practicing or hanging out anywhere but here. I do a small warm up around the ice, my legs and my hands feeling shaky from all the crying I did earlier. Talking with Gigi helped. It always does. But even now, hours after seeing my mom, I can’t shake what she said out of my head.
I practice through all my spins and turns until my head hurts. I practice my triple Lutz until my hands hurt from falling and squeezing them into fists. I replay ‘Cloud of love’ until I’m sick of it. I skate and glide until I’m crying again, feeling pathetic and stupid. Weirdly enough, I actually want Miles to be here and say something witty to make me laugh. Friday can’t come fast enough. I practice until the darkness settles outside and I know I’m going to get kicked out soon.
When I get home into bed, I close my eyes and I dream of him.
CHAPTER 9
MILES
“You guys need to get out so I can sterile the environment before she comes over,” I shout for what feels like the hundredth time.
I knew it was a mistake letting the guys come over tonight. Usually, Friday nights are chill here with me, Xavier, and Evan. But for some reason, Xavier decided to invite Harry and Greyson over too. They’ve been playing on the PlayStation for the last three hours, none of them ready to tear away from the screen just yet. I clean around them as they make more mess every time I pick something back up.
“So, are you going to tell us who this mystery girl is?” Grey asks through a mouthful of mini pretzels as I pick up an empty chip packet from next to him.
“You’ll know soon enough,” I say, moving into the kitchen. They continue shouting over the game and at each other. If I wasn’t so stressed out, I would join them. There is nothing I love more than playing a heated game of FIFA.
“It’s Wren Hackerly,” Xavier explains loudly. I shoot him a look through the open kitchen. He shrugs.
I haven’t told Xavier about the plan yet because I feel like that’s something Wren and I need to talk about first. But it seems like her friends already know so what would be the harm? I know I’m not telling any of the other guys. That’s for sure.
“Wait, Ms Hacks’ daughter?” Harry asks in his thick Australian accent which I still haven’t gotten used to.
He’s a year younger than us but he’s a ridiculously good player and strangely smart so he was able to get into NU early. It’s kind of weird having him on our team but all the girls love him, so we have to put up with his obnoxiousness. I walk back into the living room, inspecting the area before nodding.
“How does everyone know who she is? I feel like I’ve onlyreallyseen her recently,” I say, trying to make sense of it.
“Because you’ve been nose deep in bourbon for the past four months,” Grey laughs, not looking from the screen. I don’t disagree.
After our talk at the café, I haven’t had a proper drink since. I’ve had a few beers throughout the week but nothing heavier than that. The only thing keeping me going is knowing that I’m going to see her later and the idea that I’ll get back in the rink soon.
“I don’t blame you though, she’s hot as fuck. Well, before she got dropped. Since then, she’s been acting like she has a cork up her ass,” Harry laughs, and my chest tightens. I don’t know why I feel so protective over her, but I do, and we aren’t even fake dating yet.
“Chill. Don’t talk about her like that,” I bite out, my voice rough. He turns to me and shrugs.
“Sorry, mate,” he apologises.
I sit across from them and pull out my phone. I need to speak to her before I lose my mind. I pull up our text chat and fire off my first message.
Me: Hey. Are you on your way yet?
I wait for a while for a response, but ten minutes go by without anything. Slowly, panic begins building in me as I pace around the house, making sure everything looks presentable. She’s either bailing on me or something has happened. It’s not long before all the guys, including Evan, have gone to whatever party is on tonight. Almost half an hour goes by before she responds.
Wren: Fuck.
Wren: I'm so sorry. Omw now.
*
