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Something’s wrong, really fucking wrong.

I grip the door in the boards and lean forward. “Isla, hey,” I call out to her. “Baby, look at me.”

No response. She doesn’t even lift her head.

Fuck.

I step onto the ice in my sneakers, careful not to let my feet go out from beneath me, then make my way to her as fast as I can.

When I crouch beside her, adrenaline surges through me. Her breathing is fast and shallow.

Is she having a panic attack?

“Hey, I’m here,” I say, trying like hell to sound calm. All the while, my heart hammers inside my chest. “You’re okay. I’m here. Can you look at me?”

She’s trembling like a leaf when she finally lifts her head. When her eyes meet mine, the hair on my arms and nape stands on end.

Gaze glassy and unfocused, she shakes her head. “I c-can’t… I… I can’t…”

“That’s okay. I’m here, I’ll help you.” I slide an arm around her back. “I’ve got you, baby.”

I lift her, noting how stiff her body is and how violently she shakes. Without skates on, I creep slowly across the ice. If I fall, that’ll only make the situation exponentially worse. I’m scared shitless. It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced on the ice. I hold her against my chest, and she presses her face into my hoodie, her hands clutching at the fabric like she’s drowning.

I carry her into the sin bin, sit on the bench, and hold her close, letting my warmth seep into her.

“It’s okay,” I whisper into her hair. “You’re okay. Breathe. Just breathe. In—one, two, three, four, five. Out—one, two, three, four, five. Breathe with me, baby, please.” I demonstrate, inhaling, counting in my head, then exhaling.

Her breathing is erratic at first, her heart pounding against her ribs like a bird trapped inside a cage.

I close my eyes and whisper, counting from one to five, breathing in and breathing out.

It takes a lifetime, but eventually, her breathing evens out. The music is still playing, but the sound is dampened, like time has been divided into two parts: before I stepped inside, and when I found her on the ice.

I’ve never been so terrified in my life.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her teeth clattering. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. It just happens…sometimes.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” I lean away just a little and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you know what triggers it?”

She burrows her face in the crook of my neck, her hot breath against my skin. “It’s worse before competitions. When I’m struggling with something. When I mess up. When I’m being too clumsy. It feels like the world is ending, and everyone is judging me. Like they all know what a failure I am. With every wrong landing, every failed combination, I hear voices telling me I am a fool, that I’ll never be the best.” She hiccups a breath. “And I just… My chest gets tight, and I can’t catch my breath. Then, the panic strangles me, pinning me to the spot, and the world starts to spin.”

“I’ve got you,” I say softly into her hair. “You’re safe. I’m with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Nodding slowly, she releases my hoodie and cuddles closer.

I tighten my hold, my chin on her head. “You said it gets worse before competitions. Does that mean you have one coming up?”

“Uh-huh.” With her head tipped up, she swallows thickly. “I’ve been invited to compete at the Grand Prix de France in Paris. It’s in early December.” She sniffles, shuddering. “Coach Gonzalez and Elena have my classes worked out. I’ll get my work done ahead of time, and then I’ll be back for finals.”

Pulling back, I duck so my lips are at her ear. “You’re a star, you know that? And you’ll be great. I have no doubt.” I kiss her forehead. “I’m proud of you.”

She rears back and looks up at me. Her dark blue eyes are rimmed red, but they’re mostly clear. “Proud of me? After I fell apart like that?”

“Especially then,” I say. “I’ve been watching you skate since we were five, and I always knew you’d reach the stars. You’re one of a kind, Isla, and I’ll always cheer you on. I want you to win, I think even more than I want that for myself.”

She tugs at my collar, pulling me down so my mouth hovers over hers. Our breaths mingle as we stare at each other. Then, she gently presses her lips to mine. I lean into the kiss, lean into her, holding her close. The music has cut out, leaving us sitting together in the cold, empty arena, the lights above humming.

Despite the temperature, my skin is on fire.