Page 229 of Pucking Sweet

“My heart,” I get out on a breath. “The pacing is off.” I still try to breathe through it. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Slow, controlled. Recover. Breathe.

Jake’s face swims in my vision. “What do you need? What can I do?”

Lukas skates up, sliding to a stop. “What happened?”

I look up from my knees, hand on my chest, and shake my head.

I watch as Lukas’s soul drops from his body. I know, if he could, he’d rip his own heart from his chest in this moment and give it to me. “Call 911,” he says at Jake. Dropping to his knees, his stick clattering down, he takes me by the shoulders.

“Is he okay?” Jamal asks, his face stricken with worry.

Shit. Poor kid. This isn’t his fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.

I have a weak heart.

“Call fucking 911!” Lukas shouts.

I’m fading out. Feels like my heart is skipping in my chest. “Lukas—” I hold tight to his arm.

“Hold on, baby. Just breathe. You fucking stay with me. Breathe.”

Somewhere, Poppy screams.

82

“Colton!” I cry, pounding my hands on the plexiglass.

He’s on his knees, one hand on his chest, shoulders slumping.

Lukas skates in fast, shouting a few questions. I can see his face as it goes white as a sheet. “Call 911,” he shouts, dropping to his knees to support Colton.

“Ohmy—Colton,” I cry again, racing down the wall of glass toward the door.

“Call fucking 911!” Lukas shouts again.

There’s a flurry of activity as the other volunteers spring into action, clearing the kids down to the other end of the ice, leaving Jake and Lukas with Colton. I grab for the handle, rattling it with a trembling hand as I try to get it open.

“Poppy!” Claribel comes up beside me. “Wait—”

“I have to get out there! I have to go to him—”

“The medics are already here,” she assures me. “We had them on staff for the event remember? Look, there they go.” She points out to the corner of the ice as our EMTs race out.

“It’s his heart,” I cry. “Oh god, he took that stick right to the chest!” As I watch, Lukas goes down with him, trying to control the speed of his fall as Colton slumps back onto the ice, his body limp.

I’m screaming, Claribel’s arms are around my shoulders, keeping me from going to him. Kids are crying, and the volunteers are trying to get them off the ice.

“Let me go—”

“No,” she growls, her hands tight on my shoulders. “I am not letting my nine-months pregnant boss out onto a sheet of ice to slip and fall in a race to do the job the paramedics are already doing. Now,come on.” She pulls on me, wrestling me farther down along the glass.

“Oh god, is he dead?” I sob. “Claribel, if he’s dead—”

“Hey—” She grabs me by the face, forcing me to look at her. “We’re not gonna do this, okay? We’re holding it together. We’re breathing, and we’re calming down. Breathe with me, boss.” She takes a deep breath in, pushing it out through her lips.

I try to copy her, but I just suck in the breath, choking on it as a spasm pierces my side like a lance. “Ahh—” I bend, grabbing my side, pressing against the pain.

Claribel leans away. “Oh shit—are you seriously going into fucking labor right now?”

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