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Well, that last one makes it feel like it could be perfect.
Our moms clap and cry, and they both smother us with love.
“You’re beautiful, Aurora,” Knox’s mother says, her hand on my shoulder.
Knox hasn’t let go of my hand. He touches the ring on my finger, spinning it slightly. I didn’t even get a good look at it, but I bring up our joined hands and examine the ring.
“Did you pick this out?” I ask him.
He flushes. “Yeah. Do you like it?”
I nod, suddenly shy.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says. “Okay?”
I glance at my mom, but she only smiles and nods. Encouraging me to go with him. So I go down the hall into the elevator, which we ride alone. And as soon as the doors close us in, he kisses me for real.
His lips taste like sugar and hope.
We exit into the parking garage and get in his car. He drives us across town to the hockey team’s practice rink, and I sit up straighter.
“I’m in a dress,” I remind him.
He shrugs.
We park and go into the locker room. There, sitting on the bench, is all my old hockey gear.
“Stop it,” I whisper.
“It’s okay. We’re going to take it easy. Just a few laps around the ice, see if you can get a shot off against my excellent defending.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re a terrible d-man.”
“Well, then you’ll have an easy time of it.”
Dad kept this stuff tucked away in the attic after my surgery. One day, I was playing hockey. The next, it was off the table. Or off the ice, I guess.
It’s only been a few months, and but it seems more like years.
Pads, skates, helmet. I grab my stick and take my time taping it exactly the way I like, running a puck along the blade’s edge after I’m done. Then the top.
Knox watches me with a small smile. “Ready?”
“Yep.”
When I step out onto the ice, I can’t fight the grin that takes over my lips. I skate in a wide circle and pick up speed, until the wind whips the ends of my hair, not caught under my helmet, back behind me.
“Easy,” Knox yells. “I said to take iteasy!”
“I’m fine!” I coast toward him and dig my blades into the ice, showering his legs with snow. “You’re going to turn into a snowman if you stand there any longer.”
He shakes his head. “You’re something else.”
“From a white dress and flowers in my hair tothis, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let’s see what you’ve got.” I knock a stack of pucks off the wall and cradle one, taking it away from him.
