Page 48 of Unsteady

“So,” she starts. “How did your meeting go?”

“Okay.” I breathe, nodding as if that will make me more confident. “I think. I mean it was short? So I don’t know. I’ll meet him next week to speak more and bring the documents I have. He said that’ll be all we need for Liam.”

“That’s good, Sade. Honestly.”

“Right? I think it’s a good sign—it has to be.”

Ithasto be. I’m running out of other options, and dragging myself between campus dorms and my home, shelling out money from the already tight budget for babysitters when our neighbor Ms. B is busy—it’s piling up and school hasn’t even started.

Rora helped to untangle me from last year, but I refuse to put myself in that position again. And this is the only way left.

“Yes.” She smiles, all reassuring and supportive. “And if he won’t take you on, we have tons still left on the list, okay?”

Aurora is my best friend, no matter my best efforts at keeping her at arm's length. She shoved her way in freshman year, not deterred by my attitude or attempts to rid myself of her. Instead, she stuck like glue, until she was so attached I couldn’t exist without her. Then she watched me suffer from a paralyzing panic attack and held me through the entire thing, rocking us both on the little twin bed in our freshman dorms.

After that, I showed her everything. It was like I couldn’t stop.

She took it all in stride, a pursed mouth and determined brow, babysitting and helping me get the little ones to and from school while I balanced figure skating, school, and everything else. She tutored me when I fell into probation for my classes, scooped me off the bathroom floor when my hookups didn’t succeed in chasing away the pressure in my chest.

I’ll do anything for her, protect her endlessly, forever.

Oliver, Liam, Rora. My family.

“Okay.”

Rora stands, hugging me tight and letting me breathe for a few moments. Her hands run gently through my hair, combing out little knots and snags, braiding it loosely down my back.

“Good?” she asks. I nod into her stomach, before pulling away and tucking the loose tendrils behind my ears.

“Good.”

“Okay, then go get the boys and just enjoy some time with them. Why don’t you bring them to the dorm for a sleepover? We can make a pillow-fort and check them into school late tomorrow.”

“Sounds perfect.”

FIFTEEN

RHYS

With our first preseason team practice and meeting under my belt, I feel somewhat light as I stroll into our second practice of the season.

The first day I’d woken up late on purpose, so Bennett wouldn’t try to drive us all together, even if I only waited until he turned off our street to head out. I needed the time in the quiet space of my own car to calm myself, deciding an all-black ensemble might hide the sweat of anxiety nearly dripping from me—at least until dressing out.

I nearly called Dad, letting my finger hover over his contact for a solid three minutes before I tossed my phone to the floorboards of the passenger side and drove in silence.

Somehow, nothing cracked—not my phone or my mind—even through the semi-easy first skate together. I spent time getting to know the new freshmen, apologizing for being the absentee captain over summer intensive camps, and thanking Holden, a defenseman who’d taken up as my alternate after the injury.

Coach had asked Bennett to be captain more times than I could count, but he refused each time.

I’m not sweating as much now, at least not from anxiety, more from the hard pace as I round the rink, working the puck on my stick on the sharp turns before hitting a quick stop as Freddy takes off, our relay team quicker, smoother than the others. Practice is officially over, but that only means it’s my time for team-building drills before the conditioning stretches.

Leaning against the boards, I nod to Bennett where he sits with his cage off, spraying water into his mouth.

“They look good.”

Bennett nods. “Better than this summer. That Sinclair kid’s quick as fuck.”

“Yeah?” I smirk at his clearly displeased face. “Got a wicked backhand too.”

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