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Chase is at my side before I can blink, lifting me before sweeping ice off my hips. “You good?”
I nod.
“Let’s do it again. Once around the rink. I’m right behind you.”
Chin up. Smile. Glide.
Glide. Smile. Chin up.
The chanting triggers another part of my life and a painful pang hits my chest. Bringing back a memory of when I’d chant myself to sleep, repeating the same words in my head.
Trying to convince myself.
They’re dead.
They died.
They didn’t leave me.
I think about Chase, and it helps. About Marie Moore, my dance teacher, reminding me to keep my eyes focused on my finish point.
You won’t fall if you focus, she’d tell me.
She was right. Funny how that happens. The pros know.
They’ve fallen enough to know how not to.
So why am I still falling after all these years? Why haven’t I learned how to keep my head up and my demons from haunting me.
I fell apart in that old house. My parents took a part of me with them that day. Maybe all of me. That hollow feeling never truly went away.
Time did not heal.
It just made me scared. To never fit in. To never belong. That no matter what I do. How perfect I try to be. People will leave.
I feel dizzy.
Sick.
Where…am I?
“Pepper!” Chase catches me from behind, landing on the ice, holding me to his chest. “What was that? Where did you go?”
“Hmm?” The sound comes off as a whimper.
He twists me, searches my eyes, but I look away and try to stand.
He holds me in place and grips my chin. “Look at me.”
I bear the piercing of his eyes as studies me. “You spaced out.”
I pull back, defensively. “I did not.”
He watches me as if he could figure it out without my help.
“I’ve just had a long few days.”
He pulls me to my feet and watches me for a moment. Then, by some miracle, drops it. “Come on. Let’s take a break.”
