Page 57 of Switching Skates
Maybe it’s the alcohol that seems to have taken over my system in the last few minutes or a burst of bravery, but I open my mouth and tell her everything.
“I turned to you when I needed you most. When my future was up in the air and I had no idea where I was going to end up, you were the constant that I needed.” I take a shaky breath. “And then I left you because I was a fucking coward, Daphne. I was an idiotic kid who should’ve stayed and fought for the girl I was falling in love with. You deserved better. Youdeservebetter.”
Her lips are parted, and her breath is shallow. “Mason.”
“Look, don’t freak out, okay? I didn’t unload all of that just to scare you away. That’s the last thing I want. I just figured it was about time that I gave you an answer.” I look out at the lake, watching a duck paddle across the flat, star-decorated water.
Her bottom lip trembles, and my heart breaks.
“I appreciate it, genuinely. I just … I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.” I reach for her hand and stroke the back of it with my thumb. “You don’t need to say anything. It’s a beautiful night. Let’s just enjoy the moment. No expectations. No pressure. Just us.”
She smiles softly, a mix of sadness and hope in her gaze. “Deal.”
We both face forward, and she rests her head down on top of mine. Ever so slightly, I slip my fingers down her palm, intertwining them with hers.
We stay that way for what feels like forever and a second all at once. But any amount of time would never be enough with her.
“You’re so good with them,” I praise Mason, just like Melissa did to me, as I skate onto the ice with him after he wraps up class with the Mini Mammoths.
His smile is taking over his face, his pride clear as day. “They make it easy.” He waves goodbye to Chelsea, who’s skating away toward her parents. “Honestly, I’m going to miss not being with them when we switch back.”
I groan, “Well, maybe we never will, and this will become your new normal.”
“Don’t say that. You’ve got to stay positive,” he urges me, and I sulk, finding little hope with how things have gone so far.
“I’ll do my best,” I whine.
His stare burns into me, and I suddenly feel like I’m on fire—a sensation that reminds me of last night.
Last night was … amazing? Confusing? Horrifying? All of the above? Hearing him finally own up to being a dick in high school gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t expected.
But it also changed the dynamic between us. Like a tide now stirs beneath the surface, threatening to pull us under if we let go.
“Do you need to do anything before we head home?” he asks me as we skate off the ice and start unlacing our skates.
I shake my head. “Not unless you do.”
“No, I’m good.”
The forced conversation feels awkward now, like there’s more to say than we’re letting on. But I’m not ready for us to have another one of those conversations. It’ll make everything so much more confusing and complicated. Something neither of us needs right now.
“All right, then straight home,” he murmurs, standing up and throwing his duffel over his shoulder.
I follow him out of the rink, making a mental to-do list in my mind for the rest of the day as we get into his truck.
Shower. Pick a movie for tonight with Maeve, which, of course, Mason will also be present for. And I still need to make a list of school supplies I need to grab before classes start.
He turns the radio up, and “Everywhere” by Michelle Branch begins playing, and I immediately start singing along.
“I love this song,” I murmur happily between verses.
“I know.” Mason smiles. “You were singing it all day yesterday.”
Oh. I guess I didn’t realize that. I’m kind of a human noise machine, constantly singing a verse of the same song on repeat or saying quotes from my favorite movies.
Looking out of the open window during the short car ride, I continue to belt out the lyrics, my hand swimming through the rushing air.
