“Huh? Oh, yeah.” I pull my bag over my shoulder. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
We stroll over to her car, the leather seats cool beneath me as she starts the engine. It’s not until I buckle that I feel her eyes burning into me. My head snaps to look at her, and she quickly looks away.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Am I not allowed to look at the beautiful daughter I created? I birthed you, you know.”
“Mother.”I say it like a warning.
Finally, her eyes part from the road, just a glance. “I was just wondering what the verdict is. If I’m going to be reaching out to find a new assistant coach.”
I hesitate for a moment before answering. “No, we’re… good now,” I say, and I’m mostly convinced it’s true. Sure, she still drives me absolutely insane, but now that she recognizes I’m not completely clueless, things seem to be on an up.
And up.
And up.
And—fuck.I need to stop thinking about last night.
“You know that was some real Coach shit you pulled with the cabins,” I say, crossing my arms.
An amused chuckle slips from her mouth, and she flicks on the windshield wipers as the rain starts to patter lightly against the glass. “I know.” She pauses for a moment. “You know, Peyton told me what you did.”
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
“Umh…” My heart leaps into my throat, pounding so hard I swear she can hear it. What the hell? “She did?”
She nods.Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Are you mad? Because I already talked to her and—”
“Mad?” My mom’s eyes flick to mine. “Why would I be mad?”
“I—” I start, but nothing comes out. Oh my god. I knew this was going to happen. And now, I’m going to lose my job, which means I’ll lose my credit, which means I’ll have to take out extra loans to finish college, and then I’ll be drowning in student debt, and—
“Darcy, I’ve been trying to get you back on the ice for months.”
Her smile widens, and she flashes me a proud glance. My lungs collapse, pushing out every ounce of air in my body until I’m sure my sternum touches my spine.
“You’re… talking about the rink,” I clarify slowly, and my mom nods.
“What else would I be talking about?”
Relief floods every inch of my body, and I tip my head forward, pinching the inner corners of my eyes.
“Nothing. Nothing.” I pause, the muscles in my body melting. “Just the rink.”
The repetitive click of the turn signal fills the car, touching each atom in between us.
“So?” she asks. “How did it feel?”
I’m so relieved that she wasn’t talking about me fucking the team captain that I barely process her words. I just answer instinctually, whatever pops into my brain first. “Great,” I say, looking out the window. She continues.
“Yeah? That’s good to hear. Because, you know, I’ve been thinking, and I think it would be good for you to get on the ice during practice sometimes. You know, show them instead of just telling.”
