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“That’s wonderful,” I say, and it is. Definitely a lot more wonderful than me thinking it would be a good PR move and maybe turn around some discourse on Twitter.
“What about you? What brought you to being a volunteer coach?”
“Oh, I just wanted to do something for the community. You know.” I wave the question away as best I can.
She nods.“Well, I’m sure the school would be happy to have you come back. But who would give up a career for all this?” She gestures around the hall. I agree with her.
When I first started this whole thing, the idea of doing a second season would have sounded awful. Now, I could almost be interested in it. Almost. I’d get to see some of the old kids develop even further, and then I’d get to meet a new batch. It could be exciting, in its own way.
“Speaking of the end of the season, how would you feel about a date then? It would give me time to get reservations at some place pretty nice?”
Only, the moment I said it, three horns, a flute, and a drum all started playing out of tune. There was a group of kids from the orchestra who had set up their instruments while we were talking.
Never a dull moment.
“Well, I’m sorry to have to say this, but I have to go check in on Ryan and Tina,” she says suddenly. Had she heard what I just asked her? Is this her way of getting out of the situation, or did she miss what I just said entirely?
“Oh, no problem. I’ll see you at the next practice!”
She smiles, which confuses me even more. “I’ll see you then!”
And then she walks away into the crowd.
I stand there for a moment, trying not to look hurt. If she did hear me, that was a pretty rude way to make an exit. Ruder than I would expect from Melody. It would mean she really doesn’t think much of me, and I certainly don’t like that idea.
If she didn’t hear me, well, it’s just a small delay. Of course, it’s a small delay on top of a much bigger delay. Having to wait out the whole season just to even get a date is already asking quite a bit, as far as I’m concerned. I might not even be here by then. I’ll do it while I’m here, obviously, but I’m definitely not accustomed to being put off like that. Normally, women look for excuses to spend time with me, not to avoid it.
I wonder if there isn’t something else beneath her saying that she doesn’t want to mess up our professional relationship. Is she nervous about me for some reason? Or is she nervous about herself? Either way, I’ll have to find a way to reassure her.
At the end of the day, it only makes me more determined. I’ll have to come up with a new approach next practice. If she did pretend not to hear me in order to get away, I’m certainly not going to bring it up again.
But she gave me a smile. And she called me charming. And anyway, I’m Jaromir Fletcher. I’ll figure her out.
It’s a challenge. But if there’s one thing no one’s ever said about me, it’s that I’m not up for a challenge.
12
MELODY
“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth with my hands, eyes wide with fear as I walk into the rink. I thought Jaromir and I had an understanding that he would focus on safer practice drills. What I find, instead, is kids skating as fast as possible into the wall and stoppingrightbefore smashing right into it.
Well, some of them. A lot of them aren’t coming to a stop at all. Is this intentional? Why? I march over to Coach Hill, who’s standing to the side and watching the madness with a smile.
“Oh, hey, Melody,” he says nonchalantly.
“Really? Is that all you have to say?” I ask while folding my arms.
He raises an eyebrow, then looks back at the kids on the ice. “Don’t tell me you have a problem with that?”
My mouth drops open in shock. “Youdon’t?” My indignant shout draws some attention, and before he can stammer out a reply, his assistant coach skates over to us.
“Hey, Melody! What do you think of the new drill?” Jaromir asks. How are they both completely oblivious to how dangerous this is?
“What do I think about actual children slamming into a wall over and over? Is that really what you’re asking me?”
Jaromir looks over at his friend, who shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, I thought it would be a smash. The kids seem to like it.”
“Did you mean for it to beliteralsmashing?” I ask.
