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Outside Edge (Knockout Girl Book 5) Page 5


  “Excuse me,” I say, feeling overly offended. “But it’s not just playing hockey. It takes a lot of skill on these skates to do what I do.”

  She shrugs. “Not any skill that’s useful to me right now.”

  I stare at her. She’s still looking at my skates. “What do you want from me? I could do a silly little lutz.”

  I start skating away from her, building up my momentum. I ignore her when she calls my name. I can do this. It’s just a little bit of skating backwards and then I think I have to point my toe. Now all I have to do is throw myself into the air and—

  Come crashing down onto the ice. Well, that wasn’t part of the plan. I land on my left side and watch with embarrassment as a pair of pretty white skates stops inches away from me, spraying my face with ice dust.

  “That was more like a klutz,” Brooke says. Looking up at her, I see her lips pulled in tightly, holding in what I’m sure is a lot of laughter.

  I groan while 12 more pairs of skates surround me. I pick myself up, dust the ice off, and take myself to the gate. Without even a glance back, I go and sit on the hockey player’s bench where I left my shoes. I rip open my laces and kick my skates off.

  With my arms crossed over my chest and a frown on my face, I glare at Brooke. She totally ignores me, of course, because she’s showing off for the kids. She shows them the little hop she did earlier and then poses with her arms up while they clap. Then she takes each of them one by one to show them how it’s done.

  The longer I watch her, the looser my tense muscles become. My hands drop to my lap and my frown turns into a smile all on its own. With patience and grace, Brooke guides even the worst skater through the simple move. It’s obvious how much she loves this.

  So why did she tell me she wasn’t feeling it last week?

  When the class is over, Marie leads the kids off the ice. As she passes by me, she says, “Stay for a few minutes, okay, Adrian? I will talk with you and Brooke.”

  Oh, great, now I have to talk with the teacher.

  I follow the boys to the change room to help them get their skates off. They each take off as soon as they’ve got their shoes on with barely a “Thank you.” As soon as the last one is out, Brooke comes in.

  “Knock, knock,” she says.

  I can’t look her in the eye after my epic fall on the ice, so I focus on the paper cup in her hands. “What do you want?” I ask.

  She holds the cup out. “You seem tired, so I brought you coffee.”

  “No, thanks,” I say as I brush past her.

  “Hey,” she says, stepping in front of me. “I’m trying to be nice.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You don’t need to be nice to me just because I can’t do your stupid skating moves, okay?”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” she says, still standing in my way. “You would have been able to do it in proper skates.”

  “These are proper skates.”

  I lift up my bag to show her, but as I do, it hits the coffee in her hand. In an effort to not have coffee spill all over herself, she overcorrects and ends up dumping it all on me. Or more specifically, on my pants.

  “Agh!” I cry, dropping my bag.

  “I’m so sorry!”

  The coffee starts burning almost right away. I kick off my shoes as quickly as I can and then strip the pants off. It’s too late now, though. Everything’s already in pain.

  “Ugh, can you like...not?” She turns away quickly.

  “What?” I ask while I’m trying to shake the coffee out of my pants.

  “I am not enjoying this slow strip tease,” she answers, peeking over her shoulder.

  I look down at myself, dressed now in just coffee-soaked boxers and an open suit jacket. I’m so sure she’s not enjoying this. “Well, I don’t enjoy hot coffee in my lap!”

  “Couldn’t you just—ugh.” She grabs a stray towel and throws it right at my boxers.

  “Thanks,” I say sarcastically.

  I wrap the towel around my waist and go out to find Marie. She’s in her office, making some notes in a little notebook.

  I open my mouth but Brooke’s voice comes out, saying, “I can’t work with this guy, Marie.”

  Marie looks up, giving me a once-over with one eyebrow raised.

  “And I don’t understand why I have to be here for my stupid community hours,” I say. “Look at my pants.”

  “You’re not wearing them,” Marie states.

  “Exactly,” Brooke and I say together. I give her a withering look.

  Marie pauses for a moment, holds up a finger, and says, “I need you two to help choreograph the Christmas pageant.”

  She looks back down at her notebook and just keeps writing. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. So, we’re just supposed to do that, I guess.

  “The only thing I know how to choreograph is a well-planned date,” I say. “So, no, thank you.”

  Marie looks back up, her eyes wide like she had no idea I’m not a figure skater. “Oh, that’s right. Brooke will choreograph and Adrian will help the children to learn.”

  Brooke scoffs. “I did not sign up for that, Marie. I don’t feel like choreographing anything anymore.”

  “Well, I didn’t sign up for it either,” I say. The towel slips a bit and I grab at it to keep it up. “I don’t know anything about this stuff.”

  Marie’s golden eyes narrow the slightest bit. “Neither of you has a choice in the matter. Unless you’d like to go back to Fern Meadows, Brooke. Or perhaps, Adrian, I can have Henri reassign you to cleaning ditches? Would either of those things work for you two?”

  I swallow back my guilt and embarrassment and look over at Brooke. She gives me the same look. I don’t know her story, but I can tell she hates the idea of Fern Meadows as much I hate the idea of cleaning ditches.

  I give Marie a tight smile and say, “I think I can whip those little kids into shape.” I spin on my heel and waddle away as the towel starts slipping again.

  I’m not quite out of range when I hear Brooke say, “Marie, how could you mention Fern Meadows in front of Adrian like that?”

  I stop to listen as Marie says, “How else was I supposed to get you both to stop being so silly?”

  “But that’s private,” Brooke says in a broken voice. Something must have happened there that she really doesn’t want me to know about.

  Heavy footsteps stomp towards me and I try to quickly put my pants back on. Brooke stops and glances down while I’m awkwardly trying to pretend I didn’t overhear her and Marie. Without a word, she stalks past me, like it’s my fault Marie blurted that out.

  CHAPTER seven

  Brooke

  Now that I’m fully mortified, I grab my stuff as quickly as I can and leave. Okay, so coffee and hockey players apparently don’t mix. But did Adrian really have to take off his pants in front of me like that?

  I leave the building, fully intending to go home and crawl under my covers until the end of time. But when I get outside, I see Adrian waiting by my bike. The wet spot on his pants is glaringly obvious now, and he looks like he’s raked his hands through his hair a million times. And yet...he still looks good.

  “Excuse me,” I say as I approach.

  Adrian shifts out of the way so I can get to my bike.

  “Hey,” he says.

  That one word stops me in my tracks like it does every time he says it. “What?”

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he says. “I’ll take that coffee now.”

  My lips part as I stare at him. “You’ll...take the coffee now?”

  “Yeah.” He nods towards town as if I’m supposed to know what that means. “Let’s grab a coffee.”

  I grip the handlebars of my bike and jerk it away from him. “I thought you said you were good at choreographing dates.”

  He smirks. “Oh, this isn’t a date. I just decided that I would rather have some coffee inside of me instead of outside of me.”

  “Yeah, the offer’s already gone,” I say as I
start walking my bike away.

  There’s a short silence after which he says to my back, “I’ll drive.”

  I glance back at him and then at the parking lot. I’ve never seen him here with a car so—Oh. The left corner of his mouth tips up and he nods at my bike.

  “Seriously?” I say, rolling my eyes. “That is so junior high.”

  He steps forward, slinging his bag over his shoulders. “Come on, I’ll let you ride shotgun. Is that little coffee shop on King David Street still open?”

  I gape at him as he swings one leg over my bike in front of the seat as if I didn’t just say no to him. “Umm...I think so?”

  “Great,” he says. “Get on.”

  He’s waiting there with one foot on the pedal of my bike, his hands on the handlebars. And for some reason beyond me, I can’t think of any excuse to say no to him. So I sit on the seat and pull my feet up so they’re out of his way.

  He turns so I can see a good profile of his face—that smart smirk, the slight crook in his nose, dark lashes over warm brown eyes. “Hold on tight,” he says.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  I slip my arms past his bag and around him. He takes off at a decent speed, like he’s not carrying a second person with him. And as if showing me his abs wasn’t enough, now I have to feel just how tight they are. Great. At least the brisk air rushing past us is keeping my face cool.

  Adrian seems to know his way around as he takes us straight to the little coffee shop Under the Mistletoe without once asking me directions. I just hope the name of the shop doesn’t come up because I really can’t handle that right now.

  He doesn’t say anything about it, though. He just goes in, orders himself a coffee, and then sits by the window. Doesn’t offer to buy me anything or wait for me to offer, so I guess he was serious when he said it wasn’t a date.

  I look up at the menu. Adrian ordered his coffee so quickly, but I’m still considering what I can have that I’m actually allowed to have. Finally I settle on a decaf coffee, which is the most disappointing cup of sadness in the whole world.

  I sit across from Adrian and we both look out the window. There’s a holiday store across the street that almost exclusively sells Christmas stuff. But since it’s the end of September, they’ve got some ghosts and ghouls on display for Halloween. Right next to that is the museum/bowling alley/tourism office. I haven’t been there since I was a kid and now I’m wondering how they’re doing.

  “What are you having?” Adrian asks, cutting into my thoughts.

  “Just a decaf,” I answer with a shrug, like I actually enjoy it.

  “It is getting pretty late in the day for caffeine,” he comments.

  Too late? Oh, crap. I glance at the big clock behind the counter. 7:50 p.m. “I can’t stay much longer. I’ve got, um, somewhere else to be.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” he says, frowning. “I have to go to a Get Dry meeting.”

  I swallow a big gulp of my coffee, slurping a little as I do. It must be a coincidence. There’s no way he could know that’s where I’m heading, too. And to be honest, I wasn’t going to go, but maybe if he’s going...

  “I’ll give you a ride there,” I say, half-jokingly.

  “Nah, that’s alright.” He stands up, drains the last of his coffee, then leaves the cup on the table.

  I linger for a moment over my half-empty cup. The truth will come out sooner or later, so with a sigh, I rush to meet him outside.

  “Wait,” I say once I’m outside. “Let’s just go together. I’m going there anyway.”

  He lifts an eyebrow at me, but waits while I get my bike. The church is just up the road so I take the lead while he keeps up next to me. A fall wind blows some golden leaves past us and I shiver. But this time, Adrian doesn’t give me his jacket. In fact, he pulls it tighter around himself.

  “I’m not an alcoholic,” he says out of the blue.

  I peek at him from under my lashes. His hands are shoved into his pockets and his shoulders are tense.

  “And I’m not addicted to stimulants,” I tell him. “Yet, here we are.”

  He looks at me and stops just before we reach the church. “So, it’s agreed then? We’ll go in, say what they want us to say, and get this over with?”

  There’s that defiance in his eyes again. Something or someone’s rubbed him the wrong way and I want to find out what it is.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I say.

  I leave my bike outside the door and Adrian dumps his bag next to it. A part of me cringes at how rough he’s being with his skates. But at the same time, I find myself tossing my bag next to the bike just like he did.

  We go inside the church, where there are already a few people waiting for the meeting to start. Lou gives me a toothy grin. I wave back at her.

  “Wow,” Dawson says, looking back and forth between me and Adrian. “Brooke and Adrian. I’m so happy to see you both here.”

  “Hey, Dawson,” I say softly. His smile kills me. I know he thinks he’s helping me, but I don’t need help. I don’t have a problem.

  Adrian, on the other hand... I take a good look at him as he slumps into a chair with two empty ones on either side of him. He definitely seemed tired before when I offered him that coffee, but now I realize he looks beyond exhausted. The dark shadows under his eyes aren’t just from one sleepless night, I’ll bet.

  He crosses his arms and glares at the floor. All the teasing and flirting from last week are gone. But maybe that’s the way he always is and this sullen boy in front of me is...

  No, I can’t say he’s suffering from withdrawal if he doesn’t think he is. That’s not the way this program works.

  I sit next to him and whisper, “Thanks for driving me out here.”

  His eyebrows pinch together but he gives me a little half smile and his eyes light up. That answers that question. The real Adrian is the one who likes fun and teasing.

  We wait for a few more people to fill up the chairs. There’s some light conversation and chairs scraping as people move to sit with their friends. The light tone of the room shifts dramatically as soon as Dawson claps his hands together. Then everyone puts their somber faces on.

  “Nice to see you all today,” he says, giving us a gentle smile.

  Dawson makes eye contact with everyone around the circle. Or, at least he tries to. I can’t quite meet his eyes. Dawson’s known me my whole life and I’m embarrassed to be in this situation right now. I also see that Adrian’s back to staring at the floor, so that makes two of us.

  “Alright,” Dawson says with a pleasant smile on his face. “We all know why we’re here tonight. We all have our own problems we’re dealing with, vices we fight to control. We might think we’re all alone—” he cuts me a side glance so quickly I almost miss it “—but I promise you’re not alone. And you don’t have to fight your demons alone. So, who wants to start tonight’s meeting?”

  “I will,” Lou says in her raspy voice. She starts almost every meeting. Tonight she seems extra shaky as she runs her fingers through her hair. “When I moved here four years ago, I never thought I’d beat my addiction. And I still haven’t quite. But I’m doing better. I didn’t drink at all this week.”

  The others clap; a couple of them cheer. I’m genuinely happy for her, but I don’t want to embarrass her by making a big deal out of it. A few of the others tell little stories, too, some good and some bad. No matter what, everyone is still encouraging.

  Dawson turns towards us and says, “Adrian? Brooke? Either of you want to say anything?”

  “Well,” Adrian says before I even get a chance. “I haven’t had anything to drink since I came to Christmastown three weeks ago.”

  “Good for you,” Dawson says.

  “That’s wonderful,” Dennis says in his thick British accent.

  Lou pats him Adrian the knee. “You’re so brave.”

  “Yeah, because I’m not an alcoholic,” Adrian says and the whole room stills.

  I feel like I c
ould cut the sudden tension with a knife. I open my mouth and close it. Regardless of whether or not Adrian believes that about himself, I don’t think he realizes just how judgy it comes across.

  Finally, Dawson says gently, “We talked about this a couple weeks ago.”

  “No, you talked about it.” Adrian’s eyes are narrowed and he leans forward like he’s ready to leave anytime. “You talked at me, like everyone always does. I came to tell you that I haven’t been drinking and I don’t have a problem and now I’m done.”

  He stands up and stalks to the stairwell while I stare at him with my mouth open. That was definitely not the plan and now I’m stuck here trying to come up with anything to say that can explain that behaviour. But it’s not my job to do that, especially since I don’t even know Adrian that well.

  “Okay, then,” Dawson says after we’ve listened to Adrian’s footsteps trail up the stairs. “Brooke?”

  I swallow hard. “Not today, guys,” I whisper.

  The meeting ends soon after. I leave without saying goodbye to anyone, even the ones I’ve known forever. I’m just not in the mood.

  I don’t know why I expected to see Adrian waiting for me outside, but I’m heavily disappointed when he’s not there. Lou offers me a ride home, but I shake my head. I’d rather ride my bike and let the cool air numb my feelings until they’re all gone.

  On my way home, I ride past Judge McDuff’s place. I wonder for half a second if I should stop and check on Adrian. But he’s a big boy. He can handle his issues on his own since he apparently doesn’t have any issues.

  When I get home, I go straight up to my room, ignoring my mom. Rosa told me I should stay away from social media for a while, but I can’t help it. I scroll through my friends’ pics and stories. Most of them are away at university, partying, studying, and making out with people they just met.

  Some of them are training, though. Training the way I used to. Celebrating their victories and never once looking back. As a tear rolls down my cheek, I remember—these aren’t my friends anymore. That’s why Rosa told me to stay away.