Outside Edge (Knockout Girl Book 5) Read online

  I look down at my own feet. Even though the rhythm is familiar, it feels almost unnatural to me now. My heart is heavy when I realize how weird it feels.

  “Ah, Adrian,” Marie says, breaking me out of my sulking.

  I look up. There’s the guy, the hot guy from the roof, in a full dress suit and casually gliding towards us with his hands in his pockets. When his chocolate-brown eyes meet mine and flash with recognition, my stupid skate catches on the ice. Next thing I know, I’m falling spectacularly on my butt while suit guy just watches. Two of the kids try to help me up but I frown deeply at them.

  “I don’t need help,” I say sourly as I pop back up into position. It’s a smooth, natural reaction and I’m quite pleased with myself for being able to pull it off. But then I remember hot suit guy is still watching me and my face flushes.

  “Ça va, Brooke?” Marie asks, her head tilted in concern.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, brushing ice dust off my butt.

  “Good, good.” She claps her hands together. “Class, this is Adrian. Please remind him what happens if we show up late.”

  “You have to do a lap around the rink!” the kid next to me shouts.

  Hot g—Adrian shrugs and then takes off at a breakneck speed. Okay, so it’s not really that fast, but it’s just fast enough that all of us are enthralled by it. By the time he stops in front of us, spraying ice dust everywhere, even my jaw is on the floor.

  The kids all start talking at once, clamoring for this guy’s attention and wondering when they’ll get to learn to skate like him. I can’t help feeling the same deep down inside. I’m a great skater but even I can’t go that fast.

  “Wowie, Adrian,” Marie says with a huge smile on her face. “It’s not a competition, but if it were you would have won. Maybe you can try to be that fast when you’re on your way here next week?”

  “I’ll do my best, ma’am,” he says.

  Through the forced nonchalance, there’s a hint of defiance in his voice. And I kind of dig it. I’m still staring at him when he turns his gaze to me. My breath hitches and I have to look away and focus back on the exercises Marie wants us to do.

  “Okay, Brooke,” Marie says after a few minutes. “Come up and show us a few moves.”

  “Me?” I ask, pointing to myself. I wasn’t expecting to perform for anyone today.

  She titters. “Well, you are the expert, no?”

  The expert. That’s me. Expert at losing the one thing I cared about the most. I take a deep breath and skate out to the middle of the rink, keenly aware of everyone’s eyes on me. After a moment, I start up a routine that I’d been practicing for my prequalifying tryouts. Even after all this time, the moves come back to me quickly and easily. I glide across the ice, twirling, dancing, jumping, and totally losing track of time. But then I fumble over a double toe loop and almost lose my balance.

  Tears press behind my eyelids as I stop suddenly, my back to the little group that’s clapping for me now. They’re talking excitedly while Marie asks if they recognized any of the moves I did, but I’m disgusted with myself. One little move and I ruined the whole routine.

  I take a few deep breaths before turning and skating back to them sullenly. They’ve gone back to doing their own exercises and I’ve done as much as I feel like I can today. One thing Rosa told me—don’t overdo it. Only do as much as I can handle.

  Well, I’ve reached my threshold so I make my way off the ice. I stop when I hear a set of skates following me and at first I think it’s Marie, coming to call me back.

  With a sigh, I turn to tell her I just can’t but instead a pair of delicious eyes meets mine. Adrian slows to a stop and then just stares at me.

  “Oh, hey, suit guy,” I say. Could I have picked a lamer thing to say? Probably not.

  A look of disapproval crosses his face. “Hey...skater girl,” he says.

  “Your shirt is incredibly wrinkled,” I blurt out. Okay, so I can think of something lamer to say. Good to know.

  He looks down at his shirt hiding behind the suit jacket and one corner of his mouth turns up. “Duly noted.”

  “I’m gonna go.” I turn quickly, rush off the ice, and attempt to run down the rubber mat that leads to the change rooms. I’m sure he’s still watching me but I can’t handle that right now. That was a disastrous first—or rather second—meeting and I know I’ll be agonizing over it for days.

  CHAPTER four

  Adrian

  My shirt is wrinkled and I don’t care. Or, at least I didn’t before Brooke pointed it out. Was that what made her run away? My state of dishevelment? I skate back to the little kids and wait more or less patiently for this class to be over.

  I’m not sure why Pops volunteered my help here or what he thought I’d be doing. I can’t figure skate and I’m no good with kids, so—

  “Excuse me, mister?” one of the girls says while tugging on the hem of my jacket.

  “Um, yeah?” I say.

  “I can’t skate backwards,” she says.

  I pat her on her little blond head. “That’s okay, kid. It’s not for everyone.”

  Her eyes narrow the slightest bit and she puts one hand on her hip. “But...everyone else is doing it. Help me.”

  “Help you?” I ask, crossing my arms. “That’s not very polite.”

  She smiles and bats her eyelashes at me. “Please help me?”

  Oh...oh my goodness. Is she...trying to play me? “Ohhhhkay.”

  I stand next to her and show her how to move her feet so they slash back and forth to propel her backwards. She tries it but only moves, like, an inch.

  “Geez, kid, you are bad at this.” I instantly regret blurting that out when her bottom lip starts quivering. I quickly say, “But that’s okay! We’ll just practice lots.”

  She just blinks at me. Good job, Adrian. You are so good at screwing things up.

  “Come on, try it again.”

  This time, I stand in front of her, take her hands, and push her just the slightest bit to get her momentum going. When she realizes she’s moving just like the other kids, her whole face brightens up. I let go of her hands and she goes all on her own.

  “That’s it,” I say and my voice comes out all bright and happy. Oops. I forgot I would only be brooding for the rest of time.

  When the class ends, I go over to the change room with the few boys in the class, keeping my eye out for Brooke. She seems to have disappeared, though. Darn. I might have asked her to skate with me if she were still around.

  On second thought, it’s probably a good thing she’s not here. I don’t need that in my life right now. On the other hand, Dad said no girls, so maybe I do need that in my life.

  I start to undo my skates and notice that most of the boys are struggling with their skates. And apparently they don’t have any parents? With a heavy sigh, I go around the room, quickly untying five pairs of skates in record time. Once they’re free, the boys look around for their shoes, tossing things back and forth and wrestling with each other. I can’t be bothered to monitor that, so I get out of there as fast as I can.

  Out in the lobby of the Community Centre, Marie is still hanging around. When she sees me, she smiles and says, “Hey, there you are. I thought I could drive you home.”

  I want to refuse just to prove my own independence. But I also don’t feel like walking all the way back to Pops’s house. “You know where my pops lives?”

  Marie lets out an airy laugh. “Everyone knows where your grandpère lives. Come.”

  Well, now I have no choice because she’s leading me out to a sleek black pickup truck in the parking lot. I hop into the passenger side and even remember to say, “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you,” she says. “I so badly need your help with those kids.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know what you expect me to do with them. I can’t figure skate and Pops told me you’re putting together a big fancy Christmas program.”

  “Oh,” she says. “Did he say any
thing else about me?”

  “No?” I answer, wondering what that has to do with my inability to help her. “Anyway, I think you’ve probably got enough help with...with whatshername.”

  “You’re a big help, too,” she says, waving a hand. “Besides, Henri told me you need to fill in some community hours, and there isn’t a lot to do around here.”

  “You can say that again,” I mumble as she turns onto Pops’s street.

  She parks at the curb and I get out with a “Thanks!”

  “I’m just coming in to say hi,” she says and she gets out, too.

  Marie starts smoothing down her yoga outfit and her hair, which is up in a bun, and pats her cheeks a couple of times. I lift an eyebrow but don’t say anything.

  I go inside Pops’s house and take off my jacket, flinging it on the back of a kitchen chair. “Pops! Marie’s here.”

  He comes into the kitchen with a pleasant, friendly smile on. When Marie sees him, her face flushes a bit and she smiles really big.

  “Salut, Henri,” she purrs while I’m wondering what the heck is going on between them. “Ça va?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Marie,” he says nonchalantly. “How are you?”

  Her blue eyes crinkle up at the corners as she smiles even bigger. “I’m doing great, now that I have Adrian’s help.”

  “I trust he behaved for you,” Pops says, putting his arm around my shoulders.

  “Oh, yes, he’s a darling,” she says, but she’s not even looking at me. She’s looking right into Pops’s eyes. “Anyway, I came to invite you to a party I’m having next weekend. You can both come, if you want.”

  She’s inviting me to be polite, I know, but I think she’s really hoping no one but Pops will show up.

  “Oh, I don’t know—” he starts to say.

  “That sounds great!” I say, nudging Pops. “We’ll definitely come. Thanks, Marie.”

  “Bon,” she says, still smiling at him. I might as well not even exist.

  She starts heading for the door, so I push him gently in her direction. He scowls at me but then gives her a little smile.

  She reaches out to grasp his wrist and says, “Great seeing you again, Henri.”

  “You, too,” he says.

  As soon as the door shuts behind her, I say, “Pops, next time Marie is here, offer her a drink. Because she is thirsty.”

  Pops’s greying eyebrows draw in. “She didn’t say anything. I would have given her some water if I’d known.”

  I smack my forehead and shake my head. “No, Pops... Marie likes you.”

  “And I like her, too. She’s a good friend,” he says with a blank look on his face.

  Wow, he really doesn’t know, does he? “You’re killing me,” I say.

  He just shakes his head, giving me a confused look. “In any case, Adrian, you’re not going to any parties.”

  “Suits me just fine,” I mutter. “That invitation was for you and you alone.”

  I start heading towards the loft to change out of my suit, but Pops stops me. “Don’t forget you’re going to a Get Dry meeting soon.”

  I hesitate, frowning at the very thought of it. “Uh, look, couldn’t I just skip that? I really don’t think I need to—”

  “It’s been court ordered.” He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “Are you going to defy a court order?”

  Ah, good ol’ Judge McDuff. He’s been retired for about 10 years, but that doesn’t make him any less scary right now.

  “’Course not,” I say. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be a willing participant. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

  I don’t change my clothes like I was going to. Maybe if I make a good first impression, people will see that I’m not as messed up as they all think I am. I put the suit jacket back on and Pops offers to drive me to the meeting.

  “I’ll just walk,” I say.

  Walking is a mistake, of course. I’m late for the meeting just like I was for the skating lesson. But it’s not my fault I have to walk everywhere, so I make no apologies as I go into the church. There’s a sign for the Get Dry meeting pointing to the basement.

  This church is just as old as all the houses in my Pops’s neighbourhood. It has a tall white spire, arched stained glass windows, and unevenly laid bricks. It’s nice if you’re into that type of thing. Mom actually is, but she doesn’t have much of a reason to visit, even if Pops is technically her father-in-law.

  Great, now I’m thinking about my mom as I join the others who are sitting in a circle. They’re listening to a guy telling some story while I’m hoping Mom’s doing alright. The guy stops when I walk in and says, “Pull up a chair and come join us.”

  He gestures to a corner of the large room where there are more chairs stacked up. I go and get one and when I come over, a tired-looking man scoots over for me.

  “Anyway, guys,” the first man says, “most of you already know that story about me. It still haunts me to this day, but I just try to take life one day at a time.” He looks at me and says, “You missed the introductions. I’m Dawson. We pretty much all already know each other, but you’re a new face. So why don’t you tell us your name and why you’re here?”

  His words are gentle and non-judgmental but I still hate that he’s making me do this. I was hoping I could just show up and complete however many hours I had to to get out of it. But now they’re all looking at me, waiting for me to speak before they move on with their meeting.

  “I’m Adrian. And I’m not an alcoholic.” I shrug.

  “You’re not?” the guy next to me asks.

  “Nope,” I answer, holding my head high.

  “Of course he’s not,” Dawson says, unsmiling. “You’re too young to be, right?”

  I shrug again. “Sure.”

  “And you’re wearing a suit,” Dawson continues. “People who wear suits aren’t typically alcoholics. And let me guess—you only drink sometimes, like when your friends drink, right?”

  What is he getting at? I slouch down in my chair a little as he says, “Right, so you couldn’t possibly be an alcoholic. You don’t meet any of the qualifications. Right, guys?”

  My face flushes red as the others mumble about how that’s not technically correct but none of them outright say anything to me about it.

  “Well, now that we’ve established that Adrian is, in fact, not an alcoholic, we can move on,” Dawson says. He gives me a little smile and then looks around. “Who wants to go next?”

  I cross my arms and slide a little farther down as a lady in her 30s puts a meek hand up in the air. As everyone turns their attention to her, she runs a shaky hand through her brown, greying hair. She licks her bright red lips and then finally opens them to speak.

  “I saw my ex on Saturday,” she says.

  “Oh, no,” everyone collectively mutters.

  She nods sadly. “He...invited me out for drinks. I didn’t know what to say.” She hangs her heads and sighs.

  The man next to her pats her on the back. “It’s okay. It’s alright,” he says softly.

  She sniffles and a few tears splash onto her lap. I’m trying not to feel too affected by her sadness, but I can’t help wondering what kind of a guy her ex is. I didn’t know there would be people talking about their exes here. I definitely don’t want to talk about Elli.

  “Hey, we all slip sometimes,” Dawson says gently. “It happens. The best we can do is learn from that and move on. Is there anything else you want to tell us, Lou?”

  Lou shakes her head and just like that they move on to another person. The meeting lasts until everyone’s had their say. When the last person is done speaking, some of them look over at me but no one asks me to tell a story. Good. I’m not a storyteller and I don’t feel like finding some connection to these people.

  Everyone starts putting their chairs away so I do the same. I try to leave with the others but Dawson puts a hand on my elbow and motions me back inside the large room. He sits back down, so I grab a chair, s
it, and put my chin on my fist. Then I wait for some judgment from on high.

  “Adrian.” Oh, I can’t with that no-nonsense tone. “You don’t get court-ordered to attend Get Dry meetings if you’re not struggling with addiction. Everyone here acknowledges that. The sooner you realize it, too, the better.”

  Wow. He just totally went for it. “I made one little mistake,” I say. “That doesn’t make me an alcoholic. I’m only here to get my hours over with so I can move on with my life.”

  “No,” he says. “I won’t have you in these meetings if you’re going to treat them like that. Everyone else here is dealing with more than just an addiction and they’re serious about overcoming that. You can’t come if that’s how it’s going to be.”

  My eyes widen. “But I have to. They’re making me.”

  “Then you better change your attitude before next week,” he says. He gets up and just leaves me alone.

  I throw my hands into the air. What am I supposed to do with that? I can’t come and I can’t not come and I’m not going to lie about who and what I am.

  I toss the chair across the room with a frustrated cry and then stomp up the stairs. Some of the others are still hanging around, chatting in much lighter tones but I ignore them. I fling the outer church doors open and run down the steps and straight up the street. My life can’t get any worse.

  CHAPTER Five

  Brooke

  “I heard you skipped out on your Get Dry meeting this week,” Rosa says gently.

  I lie down on the couch in her office and sling my arm over my face so I don’t have to look into her kind eyes. “Where’d you hear that?” I ask, instead of confirming or denying it.

  “Your mom told me,” she answers.

  I put my arm down and glare at her. “I’m an adult. You shouldn’t be discussing me with other people.”

  “I didn’t,” Rosa says simply with a small smile on her face. “She volunteered the information. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Those people don’t get me,” I say. “They’re all old and they’ve seen and done things that have changed them so drastically. It’s no wonder they have drinking problems. But that’s not me.”