Page 83 of Edge of Unbroken

“I told him,” Shane says.

“Man, I was really hoping not to pile on right now.”

“I wasn’t planning to tell him, but Ran called me when he couldn’t get ahold of Cat. He was worried. I wasn’t about to lie to him, so I told him she was probably with Vada because of what happened,” Shane says unapologetically.

“Oh,” I breathe. I was so thrown by Adam’s call, his demands and threats, while also trying to comfort Vada that I didn’t even consider that Ronan might worry, might reach out to Shane to reassure himself.Ugh,I’m failing miserably all around.

Shane turns to face me. “You can’t ignore his call tomorrow,” he says, his voice warm but firm, and even though I don’t have the benefit of looking into a mirror, the burning sensation on my neck and cheeks tells me my face is crimson with shame. “I know you were comforting Vada last weekend, but don’t leave Ran’s call unanswered tomorrow, okay? At least let him know if you can’t talk because, man, I’m not sure he’s healed enough to have his routine fucked with, you know?”

I nod, willing the temperature in my face to lower. I want to crawl into a hole.

“God, I’m sorry, Cat,” Steve says. “I didn’t mean to put you in a bad spot.”

I immediately try to reassure him. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did. I asked you to look in on Vada and you obviously didn’t get to talk to Ran. I’m really sorry about that. It’s not your responsibility to clean up my mess.”

“I didn’t clean up your mess. Vada’s my friend; I wanted to be there for her and…” I clamp my mouth shut because I’m most certainly not going to tell them that I purposely ignored Ronan’s call. That the real reason I didn’t talk to him last Sunday is because I’m a backstabbing, unfaithful, lying girlfriend.

“I appreciate you so much,” Steve says, his left hand on my shoulder, squeezing me sweetly, but it only layers on to the guilt pressing on my heart.

***

We arrive at the rink fifteen minutes later and I awkwardly stop at the rental window.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, a wrinkle on his brow before his eyes settle on my empty hands. “Where are your skates?”

I sold them because I’m a horrible person who got herself into some things she can’t find a way out of.“I think I accidentally left them at the rink the last time I came here with Shane,” I say, unable to look at Steve. “I can’t find them anywhere.”

“Aww, shit, that sucks,” Steve says. “Those were some top-of-the-line skates, too. Man, some person made out like a fucking bandit. Pretty sure Ran dropped a few hundred bucks on those last year.”

Is it possible for a still-beating heart to suddenly shrivel up and die right in someone’s chest? Because it feels like mine just might.

“Now I feel even shittier,” I say truthfully.

Steve pulls me against him comfortingly while I wait for the guy behind the counter to grab my size skates. He returns moments later with a beat-up pair of old hockey skates.

It’s crowded in here today, with people of all ages gliding along the smooth surface of the ice rink, and I spot several players from my school’s hockey team—including Drew—when Shane, Steve, and I finally make it onto the ice.

It takes mere seconds before Drew notices us and makes his way over. “Hey!” Drew says loudly, his hand raised in a greeting, and his skates scrape to a halt.

“What’s up?” Steve says with a nod to Drew.

“Not much, just getting in some ice time.”

“Trying to polish your skills to get the team’s stats up a little?” Shane asks with a smirk.

“No, just breaking in my new skates.” Drew motions toward his feet. He’s obviously not picking up on Shane’s little jab. “How about you guys?”

“Just hanging out,” Steve says.

Drew nods before turning his attention to me. “So, you know, the winter dance is in a few weeks,” he says, his fingers fidgety. I sense both Shane and Steve shifting next to me. “If you don’t have plans, maybe we could, like, go together? You know, just friends hanging out. Cheyenne might come, too.”

“Oh, I—” I’m unsure what to say. I don’t want to go to any dance with Drew. It wouldn’t feel right, and he and I aren’t close enough to even go as friends. But he’s been so nice to me, I don’t want to be rude.

“Dude, we’ve never gone to these bullshit dances,” Shane says. “Not the homecoming dance, not formal, not prom. I always throw a thing at the beach house.”

“Yeah, I know,” Drew says, “but you and Steve have graduated, and you didn’t throw a party at homecoming this year, so I thought—”

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