Page 31 of Inevitable Endings
“Well, that’s disappointing. If you’re going to have a breakdown, at least make it interesting.”
I laugh, and for the first time in what feels like days, it’s real.
Ada stretches, tossing her half-eaten croissant back into the bag. “So, what’s the plan for today? Please tell me you’re not dragging yourself to bed again.”
I smile. “It’s my free day, I can do whatever I please, and I have already been outside.” I point at the now half-eaten pastries.
“I won’t tolerate that today,” she says while shaking her head. “I was thinking we do something different than rotting in bed. Something fun. Something that doesn’t involve dark places and sadness.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Like what?”
She grins, the kind of grin that usually means I’m about to regret asking.
“Roller skating.”
I blink. “Roller skating?”
“Yes, Isabella. You know, wheels, movement, coordination, potential broken bones. It’ll be fun.”
I narrow my eyes. “You just want to see me fall on my ass.”
“That is a huge part of the appeal, yes.”
I groan, but there’s no real protest. Ada and I don’t get many days off together, and if she wants to spend it watching meembarrass myself, then so be it.
Half an hour later, we’re at the Rolling Thunder Rink, and I’m regretting every life decision that led me here.
“I hate this already,” I mutter, gripping the wall as I wobble unsteadily on my skates.
Ada, of course, is gliding across the rink like she was born to do this, a smug little smile on her face.
“Oh, come on,” she teases, skating backwards effortlessly. “It’s not that hard.”
I shoot her a glare. “I have no balance.”
“You’re a nurse. You literally have steady hands for a living.”
“That’s different. My hands don’t have wheels on them.”
She laughs, reaching out to grab my hands and pull me forward. “Okay, okay. Just trust me. Bend your knees a little, lean forward—”
She lets go, and I immediately start to fall.
“Shit—”
I go down hard, landing on my ass with a thud. The impact rattles through me, and for a second, I just sit there, staring at the ceiling while Ada cackles like a damn hyena.
“Oh my God,” she gasps between laughs, wiping a tear from her eye. “That was amazing.”
I groan, dragging myself up. “I hope you choke on a croissant later.”
I blink hard while pushing myself up, my vision blurring slightly as I stand up too fast. A wave of dizziness slams into me, forcing me to grip whatever is closest to me. I exhale slowly, waiting for the room to steady. Prozac. The doctor warned me about fatigue and lightheadedness, but it still feels unsettling, like I’m walking around in a fog most days.
We spend the next hour skating, or in my case, trying to skate. I fall at least six more times, but eventually, I start to get the hang of it. Sort of. Ada still skates circles around me, but at leastI’m no longer clinging to the wall for dear life.
By the time we leave, my legs feel like jelly, and my ass is definitely going to be bruised tomorrow.
“Admit it,” Ada says as we walk to my car, “you had fun.”
