Outside Edge (Knockout Girl Book 5) Page 6

  CHAPTER Eight

  Adrian

  Two days after my disastrous Get Dry meeting, Marie comes over, holding a fancy leather-bound box. Pops is out doing some good deed or something, so I tell her on the doorstep that he’s not there.

  To my surprise, she brushes past me and says, “I came for you, Adrian.”

  “Oh,” I say, shutting the door behind her. “Okay.”

  “I brought you this.”

  She holds out the box. With a little shake of my head, I take it into the living room and set it down on the couch next to me. I suck in a deep breath when I open it. The interior is lined in black velvet to protect what I’m sure is the most expensive pair of black skates I’ve ever seen. I don’t have to be a figure skater to know that.

  “What is this?” I ask, trying not to sound rude.

  “They were my late husband’s,” Marie says in a bittersweet voice that cuts right to my soul. “He hardly had a chance to wear them before he passed.”

  My heart skips a beat. I close the box and hold it out to her. “I—I can’t take these. Sorry.”

  Marie smiles and sits next to me on the couch. “Of course you can. Lorenzo doesn’t need them anymore. And I believe they will fit you nicely, non?”

  I open the box one more time and check the size. “Ten and a half? You just happened to have skates in my exact size?”

  She laughs delightedly and claps her hands. “Oh, I knew it. This is destiny, Adrian. You will see.”

  I can’t help smiling at her enthusiasm. “Look, Marie...this is really nice, but even if I wanted these, I have no idea what to do with them.”

  “Perhaps I can show you a thing or two,” she says, bobbing her eyebrows.

  It’s that voice, the one she uses on my Pops when she’s trying to coax him into something. Maybe he could ignore it but I recognize it well.

  “Right now?” I say, trying to politely dissuade her.

  “Are you busy?” she asks.

  She knows I’m not. She probably knows I have nothing to do with myself but whatever I’m told to do. I purse my lips and think about it. How bad could it be?

  “Okay,” I finally say. “But I’m warning you now, I just know I’m going to ruin these skates.”

  She stands up and gives me one more smile. “Not with my guidance, you won’t.”

  Her confidence is what convinces me. That and the fact that I have nothing better to do. She takes me to the Community Centre, where I discover the rink isn’t even open to the public right now. I’m not going to lie—having a whole rink all to yourself is a rare treat that any skater would be grateful for, even me.

  I glance at Marie while we get our skates on. She must be around my pops’s age, maybe a little younger—and he’s pushing 70. But she doesn’t look it and she’s still active. It’s inspiring.

  I follow Marie onto the ice, feeling more awkward than I ever have. “I didn’t think these skates would be so different,” I say.

  “Ah, but they are,” she answers. “Not only is there the toe pick, but the blades have an outside edge and an inside edge. Go ahead and see if you can find them on your own.”

  “Okay...”

  I take off down the rink but not too quickly. I’m used to fast and hard stabs at the ice. But this... It takes some work to find the edges of each skate and when I go on the outside edge of the right one, I knock myself over. With a sigh, I pick myself up and go back to Marie.

  She’s grinning at me and clapping. “That was wonderful. You’re a natural!”

  I blow out a long, tired breath. “Okay, but I fell just trying to use these.”

  “And it was wonderful. Come.” She starts skating towards the sideboards. “Let’s try a little jump.”

  “Maybe that one Brooke did the other day?” I suggest.

  “Oh, yes,” she says, grabbing the ledge. “That will impress her for sure.”

  “That’s not why I was—”

  “First step—you need to learn which edge and which foot to use to make the jump.” She points down at my feet, as if I didn’t already know where the skates are. “She made that jump from the inside edge of her right foot. Then she used the toe pick to push off. Watch me do it slowly here first.”

  Marie shows me the motions of where exactly to put my feet without moving from her spot. “Now, there’s a little turn that goes with it,” she says as she turns slowly. “It’s not too hard with some momentum. Watch.”

  This time she skates out from the sideboard, gaining some speed. With incredible accuracy, she does the little hop and spin perfectly and then comes back to me.

  My mouth drops open. “Wow, Marie, that was pretty good for—” I cut myself off before I offend her.

  “An old lady?” she says with laughter in her voice. “It’s not the first time I’ve been told.”

  I laugh with her and gesture at the rink. “Should I...?”

  “Go ahead,” she says with a big smile.

  I skate down the ice in a new and somehow also familiar way. I keep waiting for a magical moment when my skates will just be in the right spot for me to make the jump.

  “Don’t wait, Adrian,” Marie calls as if she can hear my thoughts. “Just do.”

  Just do. Easy for her to say. But I find myself wanting to do it so badly. I pick up a bit more speed, find the inside edge of my right skate, and lift off. There’s a moment of pure bliss where I’m in the air for a split second.

  And then, once again, I’m splayed out on the ice. I guess I should have asked Marie how to land the jump before trying it. Instead of doing that, though, I get up and try the jump again. It goes the exact same way, including the fall. One more failed attempt brings me back to Marie for help.

  “Alright, what am I doing wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she says with a smile. “Falling and rising is a part of life.”

  I sigh, feeling more tired than I should after a little skating. “Could you teach me how to land it without getting philosophical?”

  “I could,” she says with a shrug. “But what’s the fun in that?”

  I shake my head. “Forget it,” I mutter as I head towards the gate.

  “Do you always do this?” she asks just as I put my hand on the gate.

  “Do what?” I snap.

  “Give up when things get too hard for you?”

  I whirl around so hard I almost topple over again. “This isn’t too hard for me. It’s just a stupid little jump. See?”

  I take off once again down the ice. When I’ve got enough momentum, I take the jump. But instead of doing the little half spin Marie showed me, I turn my body into a full one. I don’t know how, but I manage to land on both my feet, only wobbling a little bit.

  Marie’s mouth is open when I face her again. I brush past her to get to the gate because I don’t want to admit how good that felt.

  “See?” I say. “Not hard. I just don’t feel like doing this anymore.”

  This time, she lets me open the gate without getting in my way. I sit on the bench and gently undo my skates. Then I wipe the blades off on my pant legs. So what if I don’t want them? That doesn’t mean I’m going to let them get ruined.

  “Do you want a ride home?” Marie asks.

  “You mean to Pops’s house?” I say. Carefully, I tuck the laces inside the boots.

  “Yes, of course.”

  I look up at her. “No, thank you. You can go by yourself.”

  After covering the blades with their swanky cloth covers, I put the skates back into the box. Marie has finally sat down to take her own skates off, so I put the box next to her.

  “Those are yours now,” she says without even looking at the box.

  I sigh and grab the box’s handle. “Fine. But I’m putting them in my smelly hockey bag. This box is impractical.”

  “What you do with your skates is your business,” she says. She’s still not looking at me. She’s just taking her dear, sweet time loosening her skates like it’s an art form. />
  With a grunt of frustration, I turn and leave her there. What am I supposed to do now? I don’t want these magical skates that can turn a stupid hockey player into a floating butterfly. Or whatever nonsense they do.

  I stalk down the street leading towards the downtown area. I worked up a good sweat while I was skating and the cool air outside feels good. But not as good as a drink would feel. Thinking about drinking seems to have conjured the liquor store out of nowhere.

  Now I’m standing in front of its door, wishing I could take out my fake ID and go in there. I could. There’s no one around to stop me.

  “Hey, kid,” a vaguely familiar voice says.

  Okay, so there is someone else around. I look to my left, where Lou is approaching with a cigarette in her mouth. I don’t answer her. I just glare at the doors of the store while she puffs smoke next to me.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask after a minute. Maybe it’s mean, but I really want to get rid of her so I can decide whether I’ll go in or not.

  But she doesn’t seem bothered as she answers, “Probably the same thing you’re doing.”

  “Wishing you hadn’t run over the Carlsons’ cat?” I say dryly.

  She chuckles and then tosses her cigarette on the ground, stomping it out. “Were you drunk when that happened?”

  I stare at the ground. There’s no sense in lying to her. “Yeah. A little.”

  “There’s no little or a lot drunk. Drunk is drunk.” She turns to me and pats me on the shoulder with her shaky hand. “Don’t go in there, okay?”

  Lou lights up another cigarette as she walks away. I’m supposed to take advice on addiction from someone who’s clearly still struggling? Yeah, right. I take a step towards the store and then stop.

  I can’t do this. Pops can probably smell alcohol three streets way.

  But that’s fine because I don’t need alcohol to be happy. I don’t even need to be happy, quite frankly. I just need to finish up my hours and get on with my life.

  CHAPTER NinE

  Brooke

  For the umpteenth day in a row, I wake up groggy and with a headache. As soon as I head down the stairs, I can hear my mom talking with Marie. Their voices are light and for once they’re not discussing me. In fact, they’re talking about Adrian.

  Adrian, who is not an alcoholic, who is not a skater, and who apparently is not talking to me right now. At least he hasn’t in the last three days since our Get Dry meeting. As if it’s my fault he has to go. What did I do so wrong?

  In an effort to not have to hear Marie praising Adrian’s skills, I go into the kitchen and loudly announce, “Good morning!”

  Both women turn to me with their eyebrows raised. “It’s almost one, Brookie,” Mom says with a little laughter in her voice.

  I glance at the clock on the stove. 12:48. “Ugh...coffee?”

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” Mom says as she gets up. “But I’ll make you some eggs.”

  “No, thanks.” I sigh and sit across from Marie. When she smiles at me, I ask, “How are you?”

  “I’m marvelous, chérie,” she answers. “Better now that you’re here. We have a program to plan.”

  “Oh, Marie...I’m not sure I—”

  “Nonsense,” Marie cuts me off, waving her hand. “You’re the best skater I’ve ever met. And you’ve been in so many of the Christmas pageants since you were little. Who better to ask?”

  Maybe someone who cares? I can’t say that, so I just shrug instead. “Okay...”

  “The big problem,” Marie says as she pulls out a tablet, “is that most of our older ones graduated and have left. I’ve got some strong skaters in my oldest group, but it’ll almost be like building the program from scratch. They won’t be able to pull off the routines we’ve done in the past.”

  I nod while Marie starts up a video from last year’s program. I wasn’t in it because I was too busy training for...for the Olympics. Tears push at my eyelids while I watch the familiar faces of my friends having a ton of fun on the ice. I wish now I had joined them instead of—

  “See, I don’t think this year’s kids could do that double lutz,” Marie says, cutting into my thoughts.

  She backs up the video and starts it again. There are three girls on screen who do a double lutz in nearly perfect synchronization. The girls then join three guys who pick them up and separately do three different lifts. Marie’s right—this group can’t do that.

  “We can simplify it,” I say. “Do a single lutz. Take out the lifts or maybe make them all the same, but easier. Something small.”

  Marie turns to me and smiles really big, clasping her hands together. “So, you will help?”

  And that’s when I realize my mistake—I said we could do that stuff. Taking a deep breath, I say, “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Oh, good.” She turns back to the tablet and scrolls through the videos saved there. “Because here’s the other problem.”

  She plays a new video, in which a guy dressed in a bright red coat and hat skates around with the youngest group of kids. He does a tiny little lift with each child, every one different in its own way. Then he goes to sit on his red velvet seat in the middle of the rink. Four other skaters dressed like elves dance around him while he sings “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

  “It doesn’t look too complicated,” I say.

  “Ah,” she says. “But Père Noël graduated last year, too.”

  I nod. “I see. But we could get a new one, right? Didn’t this guy do the last three years in a row or something?”

  “Yes,” she says. “And I was thinking...Adrian could do a fine job.”

  “I doubt he’d want to,” I say a little too quickly.

  “He might if you asked him,” she says with a wink.

  I look down at the hands I didn’t realize I was wringing in my lap. Why would Marie think Adrian would ever do something just because I asked him? Adrian’s his own person and I have no power over him whatsoever. Even when I think he’ll do one thing, he does another. Plus, he doesn’t seem that keen on skating with us to begin with.

  “I think you’d have better luck asking him,” I say. “But...if he agrees, I’ll make a routine for him. If he can do it, that is.”

  “I have faith,” she says. “Now—I have to go, chérie. But there’s a public skate soon and I have a very good feeling you’ll see Adrian there. Will you try, please? For me?”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Marie knows there’s very little I wouldn’t do for her. “Sure,” I say.

  After Marie leaves, Mom comes to sit with me. She gives me a little smile and I know what that twinkle in her eyes means. But I ignore it and look out the window. Our backyard is all shady because of the oak tree back there and the leaves are already a bright orange. Soon it’ll be winter and I know that’s when I’ll feel at my worst.

  “So,” Mom finally says. “Tell me about Adrian. Marie says he’s a great skater.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Adrian,” I say, still staring at the oak leaves.

  “Alright,” she says. “But maybe you should talk to him. I’ll even take you to the rink.”

  I look back at her. Her eyes have changed from amused to concerned and I don’t like it. “Could I just...drive myself there? Do you trust me to do that? I’ll even send you a picture from the rink.”

  “With a time stamp?” she asks, pinning me with her gaze.

  This time, I do roll my eyes. “Yes, with a time stamp.”

  “Okay,” she says quietly and my heart leaps. This is the first time she’s letting drive alone in months. I don’t even care if it is just to the Community Centre.

  I go upstairs to change into workout clothes and grab my skates. This time, picking them up makes me feel excited again, instead of just dreading the experience. Skating during a public skate is way less pressure than trying to be perfect for a bunch of judges. And...I do want to see Adrian. But just a bit.

  The drive to the Centre is short but sweet. Even tho
ugh it’s getting cooler outside, I roll the window down, crank my music and let the sensation of freedom roll over me. By the time I get there, I feel more relaxed than I have in months.

  That feeling starts to fade, however, once I’m actually on the ice. I used to feel so comfortable here—it was basically my second home. Now it’s too bittersweet to be totally enjoyable.

  I swirl across the ice, my feet moving in a criss-crossing pattern as I pass the other skaters. The air rushes past me in a nauseatingly familiar way, but I push through it. I do a little hop, which then turns into a half-turn, which turns into a full double. I never meant to go all out and I stop to see if anyone even saw.

  No, they’re all skating along, doing their own thing. There are some parents here preoccupied with trying to keep their little ones upright. Others are skating in small groups or by themselves.

  Notably missing: Adrian.

  Why did Marie think he would be here? He said he doesn’t even like skating anymore! He’s not— Oh.

  I don’t immediately recognize Adrian gliding towards me, because for once he’s not wearing the suit. In fact, he’s in sweatpants, a plain grey T-shirt, and figure skates. Honestly, he looks even better than he did in that silly wrinkled suit.

  “Wow,” I say as he approaches me. “So, you do own other clothes.”

  “It would seem so,” he says.

  “And proper skates today.” I point down at them. “Where’d those come from?”

  “They were, uh—” He stops to clear his throat. “They were Lorenzo’s, apparently.”

  My eyes widen and I come closer to him. I lean down, touching the skates under the guise of checking the tightness. But really, I just want to touch Lorenzo’s skates. He was an amazing skater, a legend in his own right. Does Adrian have any idea? I glance at him, but he’s just looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

  I straighten and say, “That was really nice of Marie to share these with you.”

  He nods. “Yeah, she even showed me how to use them properly. Check it out.”

  Adrian skates down the rink, expertly gliding past other skaters. I’m wondering what I’m supposed to be looking at when I see him take off on his right foot and do a full spin in the air before landing. His landing is a bit wobbly and he’s a little stiff but it’s not the worst thing I’ve seen. I go up to him and press my hands on his shoulders.