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“You okay?”

Looking back at Lucy, I nod. “I’m fine.” She eyes me, though, and nervousness eats me alive as I redirect my gaze to Angie. Can she tell I’m fucked up? “Ready?”

“Yeah!”

We get to work. Even Lucy helps and I start to feel so much better being with them. Angie is energetic and funny, reminding me so much of Jace that I start to miss him desperately. Unlike how she usually is when Jace is around, Lucy is great. I mean, she is with Jace too, but usually, all her attention is on him, tormenting him. It’s nice just us, but what I love most is that, like her brother, she looks me square in the eye as she talks to me.

“So where is my b

rother?”

I smile as I draw a very elaborate hockey scene for Angie to color. “He’s sleeping. He needs it.”

“Running himself into the ground?”

“Yeah,” I say with a nod. “He gets up at like four and goes into the coffee shop, then goes to practice at eight, and has classes till four most days. He doesn’t sleep much.”

“Yeah, he can do that sometimes. You should have seen him at Worlds. Jesus, I thought my mom was gonna have a heart attack, she was so worried about him. But he was so excited and nervous, he didn’t sleep. It showed so much in the first game that his coach at the time told my mom to drug him. It was funny.”

“Yeah, he told me today that he is declining as a player.”

She shakes her head with a laugh. “Yeah, he must need sleep if he doesn’t think he’s amazing or awesome every second of the day.”

I grin because she is very right, but her earlier comment is still bothering me. “So, you went to Worlds with him?”

She nods. “Oh, yeah. I go to everything for all of them. We are very supportive when it comes to our dreams. I was even pregnant during Worlds with little butt here.”

Angie flashes her a grin as I watch her. “So you like hockey?”

“I love it,” Lucy says with a grin. “It’s a huge part of my family.”

“Yeah, mine too. But I don’t like it,” I admit. I immediately wish I hadn’t. Why does it matter? We are obviously two different people. She wouldn’t understand.

“Why’s that?”

Swallowing hard, I look away. “It always came first; what I wanted was never given a thought.”

When she doesn’t say anything, I look up at her and her face is scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I have three brothers, two older and a twin. They all play and so we were all over the place. No one ever had time for anything I wanted to do.”

“So you didn’t do anything? Just travel with them?”

Like I thought, she doesn’t understand. Who could? I mean, what family alienates their child and doesn’t consider what they want? Her family isn’t like that. They all stand behind each other, cheering them on. I’ve never been told that my family was proud of me. Disappointed, though, I got that on lock.

“Yup, I was the official stick-carrier and popcorn-getter, though. So I guess I did big things.”

Reaching out, she cups my shoulder. “That blows, Avery. I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s whatever. I’m happier now that I’m doing what I want.”

“Good, you should be. I know I am. I’m living my dreams, and I couldn’t be happier.”

I smile. “Jace told me about your ex. I admire how you came back from that.”

Her smile drops as she presses her lips together. It’s like fun, happy Lucy is gone, and I find myself scared of the Lucy who is twirling a pen in her hand. Looking up at me, she shrugs. “Yeah, thanks. He’s a sore subject. I was young and stupid when I met him. I fell and it went badly, but I learned from my mistakes. That’s what you do. You learn and you grow from your past. It’s taken me a long time to learn that. Now that I have, I’m in a better place.”

I don’t say anything as I stare into her pain-filled eyes. I know that I don’t know even half of what happened—I’m sure Jace doesn’t even know—but Lucy’s eyes show it. She may not have physical scars, like I do, from her past, but she has scars nonetheless. That dude did a number on her, and still, she lived her dreams. She’s moved on; she’s a great mom and a great sister. She doesn’t want anything but to succeed, and I want that more than anything.

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