Page 26 of Unsteady

Fuck.

I think I’m going to be sick.

I’m shouting for her in a blind panic, jumping the boards still in my sneakers and racing to her sprawled figure. Briefly, I wonder how in the world she stayed calm that day she found me lying on the ice, because I’m losing my mind at just the image of her here now.

When I make it to her side, she’s shaking.

“Sadie?” My voice is quiet as I kneel down to pull her up. She’s like water in my hands, boneless and slipping through as I try to at least prop her back against the boards.

My hands hover in the air over her body, desperate to check that she’s unharmed, but too scared that I’ll frighten her or expand her anxiety.

She’s crying, near to sobs like she can’t take a breath. Panic is still racing through my veins, but I try to concentrate on her.

“Hey, breathe—remember?” My hand presses the tangled loose pieces of her hair that have escaped her ponytail back. “I know it feels like you can’t, like you’re dying, but focus on my hands.”

I reach down and press her hands into mine. For how flushed her cheeks and neck are, her hands feel like the ice we’re sitting on.

“Try the three’s method,” I say, whisper-quiet in the vastness of the rink. “My therapist tells me to think of three things you can hear, three things you can see, and three things you can feel.”

“Okay,” she huffs, her voice catching in the sob.

“Start with what you can hear.”

“My music.” She pauses and closes her eyes tightly. “Your breathing. The air conditioning.”

“Something you can see.”

Her eyes blink open again, tinged red but only with a few tears escaping. “You.”

I can’t help the smile that slips. “Try to be specific.”

“Your dimples when you smile. The pink cap on my skate laces. An old Bruins logo flag.”

“Good, last one. What can you feel?”

“The ice under my legs, the boards behind me.” She keeps her eyes locked on mine. “You holding my hand.”

“Good girl.” I squeeze her hands in mine. “Okay, Gray?”

The question makes her smile as she calms further and she nods, tears only slightly leaking down her cheeks. I hate the sight of it, unable to stop myself from bunching my sleeve and wiping beneath her eyes.

“Gray?”

“It’s your eyes.” I smile.

She giggles but it turns into a sob. “Sorry,” she says.

“Nope. Not doing that apology thing.” I wince as my mouth opens again. “I know we said no questions—”

“Rhys—”

“But, I have to ask because this is new.”

She starts to stand, climbing me like my body is purely there to support her—a thought that intrigues me more than it should. I help her, still towering over her, even without my skates on, while she steadies on her blades.

Finally releasing her lip from between her teeth, she huffs a breath and lets the words fall from her mouth like a waterfall.

“They’re cutting the concession area hours for the rest of the summer, which means I’m losing that job. And I can’t do coaching on the schedule they offered so I won’t have that to replace it. Not to mention, I wouldn’t be like this if I could just get laid, but apparently that’s not happening for me right now. So I’m trying to just work all the time. But, my job near campus only has so many hours right now until the semester starts. And Oliver needs new skates—”

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