Page 24 of Edge of Unbroken

Truth is, the academic stuff always came easily to me. I learned quickly that I could be great if I just applied myself. Still, hearing my dad tell me he’s proud of me feels weird, and different, and… nice. It’s not something I’m used to hearing. My mother sure as fuck never gave me kudos for my grades or achievements; she always expected me to outperform myself each time.

“Yeah, well, I had some other stuff on my mind. Damn, I can’t believe I’m done with high school,” I sigh, relieved. The added burden of completing schoolwork these past couple of months has weighed on me. I tried to squeeze in a few minutes here and there when I was awake and lucid enough to concentrate, but I gave it minimal effort. I still find it difficult to sit silently and focus because my mind tends to veer to subjects that make concentrating difficult, and, honestly, I was already so damn behind that it felt almost impossible to catch up. But somehow I managed to get it done.

The only thing that sends a pang of disappointment through me is knowing I won’t see Cat at school when I’m back.

“So, when do I get to come home?” I ask my dad eagerly, my thoughts still on Cat.

“Uh, sorry bud, not yet,” he says cautiously. “But this might cheer you up…”

Cat

“And if you got into Duke, and I got into Duke, we could totally be roomies!” Julie says, lounging lazily on my bed, two pillows propping her head up.

We just got back to my house after spending the late morning and early afternoon skating at the ice center. It’s something I’ve been doing regularly since Ronan left for Montana. It makes me feel connected to him and I like the idea of surprising him with my skating skills when he comes home, though I have no clue when that will be. It drives me crazy not knowing when I’ll get to see him again. For all I know it could be months, maybe longer, before I’ll be in his arms again.

But, hey, I’ve gotten pretty good at skating. I commandeer Vada, Steve, and Shane here and there to help me.

A few weeks ago, Shane finally taught me how to “make snow,” which is a way of braking in ice hockey. I’d been bugging him for weeks to teach me how to do it, remembering Ronan’s blades scraping against the ice whenever he abruptly stopped or made a quick change in direction during practice. Shane always told me to be patient, that I needed to become more comfortable on the ice before he taught me to brake that way. I was ecstatic when he finally said he thought I was ready, and he chuckled when I squealed.

Of course, it didn’t go as I had hoped. I fell a bunch of times, thrown forward by the quick turn of my skates.

“Man, Ran made this look so easy,” I grumbled when I got up after falling for the fourth time in a row.

Shane laughed. “Trust me, Ran fell all the time, too, in the beginning. We all did. In fact, we still do. Our skates will get caught or we’ll get tripped, or we’ll just flat out lose our footing. We just learn to get up quickly and pretend nothing happened,” he laughed. “Ran took a mean dive into the boards one time after a player on the opposing team tripped him.” Shane suddenly turned contemplative, his eyes unfocused. “That was one of the only times I’ve ever seen Ran completely lose his shit. Well, that time and when he beat your ex’s ass,” he said with a sidelong glance at me.

“What happened?”

“It was a super close game that decided which team would go to the playoffs, and this dude just shoved his stick right between Ran’s skates while he was going crazy fast, moving the puck. Ran took a fucking dive right into the boards at full speed. He was so pissed because it was such a shitty penalty and you can really get hurt that way. I just remember Ran throwing his stick to the ice, yanking his helmet and gloves off, and absolutely going after the guy,” Shane laughed. “Beat his ass so bad. It took a bunch of us and like two or three referees to pull him off that kid. Ran got suspended from playing for a whole month. I’m pretty sure the other kid lost a tooth.”

“Jesus,” I said, my eyes huge.

Shane continued to laugh. “Yeah, I mean, Ran doesn’t usually lose his crap; he’s really level-headed most of the time. Really, that day and with your ex were the only times I’ve ever witnessed him see red,” Shane said, nodding. “In retrospect, I’m pretty sure some shit happened with Ran’s mom before we left for the game that day, so this kid’s penalty was probably what put him over the edge. You know, last-drop-in-the-bucket kind of thing.”

“I can’t imagine how much Ran must have kept locked up inside,” I said, my voice heavy as I stood, facing Shane. The cold air of the rink felt suddenly heavy, weighing my shoulders down.

“Yeah,” Shane agreed with a deep sigh. We both stayed silent, staring at the ice in front of us.

Shane finally snapped us out of our funk. “Okay, let’s teach you how to make snow properly so you can show Ran your kick-ass skating skills when he’s home.”

An hour and a half later, I had managed not only to brake without eating ice, but to make some snow in the process, leaving me feeling pretty damn accomplished.

After skating today, Julie and I went to my house where we’ve been hanging out ever since. Of course, I told her all about Adam, my dad’s dislike of Ronan, and the ensuing tension related to my college applications. This, in turn, led her to list all the reasons why I should apply to Duke.

“Yeah, I’ve already decided to submit my application as soon as I’m back home,” I say. “If only for the legacy reason. My dad’s obviously adamant that I do, and I guess it can’t hurt.”

Both my parents attended Duke. In fact, there’s a picture of them in their graduation caps and gowns with a two-year-old me in my dad’s arms and another when my dad got his masters, and yet another when my mom got her M.D.

My parents are Duke alumni through and through, and I know it would make them happy if I was accepted there, too. But I’m also applying to schools in New York. I actually just submitted my applications to NYU, Brown, Columbia, and, just for good measure, the University of Montana.

“And you should apply to NYU,” I tell Julie. “You know, as a backup, and maybe we could still be roomies.”

She giggles. “Deal! I’ll need to talk Nate into applying there, too, then. Can you even believe he’s thinking about applying to the University of Texas? Like, what the heck? I’m not applying there.” She folds her arms in front of her.

“Do you have any idea what you want to major in?” I’ve been racking my brain about what I’m interested in, and the only thing that seems appealing is psychology, like my mom. The limited information she’s able to share with me about her cases is always so interesting. And I like the idea of being able to help people who struggle with their mental health, especially after seeing Ronan struggle with PTSD, anxiety, and depression.

“I’m kind of thinking about getting into pharmacology,” she says, and takes me by surprise.

“Really? You want to be a pharmacist?”

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