Page 89 of Switching Skates
“Have you been having fun learning hockey?”
Her eyes light up in a way I’ve never seen.
Her voice is soft and quiet, like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear, “I looooove itsomuch. More than skating. I wish I could just practice hockey. But even Mr. Mason says this class is good for me to learn my balance. And my mom really wants me to do this one and not hockey.”
My eye twitches at her words. “I think if that’s your passion, then you should pursue that, Patty.”
She looks from side to side. “I don’t think my mom would like that very much. She loves me doing this. She only agreed to the hockey lessons with Mr. Mason because they’re free.”
My heart aches for a whole new reason today. It’s not that her mom doesn’t support her passions, it’s just that hockey might be out of the budget.
“How about we make a deal?”
She nods and listens with eagerness.
“How about I talk to your mom and tell her how good of a hockey player you are and that we want to sponsor your membership for Mini Mammoths hockey so that you can attend the full program for free? Not just lessons with Mason. They’re on a different schedule, so if you want to stay in figure skating, you can. Or if you want to do just hockey, that is perfectly fine too.”
“Really? For free?” she whispers aggressively. “Do you think Mason would help though too?”
I nod. “I’m sure I could talk to him and see if he’d be able to help sometimes. And, yes, it’ll be free. Pinkie promise.”
She lifts her pinkie in the air, and I wrap mine around it and seal the deal.
“Thank you, Ms. Daphne!”
She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tightly. My heart warms at her affection, and for a moment, I feel whole and fulfilled, brimming with happiness and purpose.
Thisis what I’m meant to do.
I still can’t believe that man has been secretly teaching her hockey lessons, but I can’t even fathom being upset with him for poaching my skater.
Clearly, it’s a passion of hers, and I want her to pursue it. I just wonder why he didn’t tell me.
Not that he owed that to me. Or that he has to tell me everything that he does in his free time, but … ugh, why am I annoyed he didn’t tell me when I couldn’t even form a full goddamn sentence when he told me he loved me?
And now we’re back to that spiral.
Can someone just take my brain away for a day so I can be numb and not think? Because these thoughts are becoming overwhelming and I can only avoid them for so long.
Patty skates off, my last student on the ice from class today, and I follow her. I change from skates to tennis shoes before walking out of the rink and heading to my Jeep.
I want to do nothing the rest of the day, except rot on my couch, eat unhealthy food, and watch one of my comfort movies.
I know I need to figure out what I want between Mason and me, but is it weird that for a split second, I feel numb? Like I’m standing in front of a wall, and I know once I crawl over it, I can’t ever go back. Something about that is terrifying, even if I know that what I want is on the other side.
As if Maeve can sense her bestie about to have a breakdown, she texts me.
Maeve: I’m home. Need some Daphne snuggles. WYA?
Me: Heading home now. And same here. I need your advice.
Maeve: Here to serve you, My Queen. :)
Tucking my phone away, I drive out of the parking lot and head home, my heart beating through my chest and lodging itself in my throat. The sensation doesn’t seem to fade, even when I pull into the driveway and walk inside the house, spending the next few minutes filling Maeve in.
“I don’t know what to do,” I murmur, resting my head on her shoulder and whining like a big baby.
I filled her in on everything—well, aside from the body swapping and the graphic sexual details. But every other detail has been laid out for her evaluation.
