Outside Edge (Knockout Girl Book 5) Page 7

  “Wow, that wasn’t bad,” I say with a smile. “But you need to loosen up. Be a little more...elegant.”

  “I’m always elegant,” he says. The corners of his mouth are turned down, but there’s a twinkle in his eye.

  “Oh, yeah, the wrinkled, coffee-stained suit really screamed elegance to me.”

  He smiles—the first real, full smile I’ve seen—pushing dimples into his cheeks and stopping my breath short. Oh, Brooke, this is bad.

  “Um, well, can I show you something else?” I ask. Maybe if he’s open to the idea, then he’ll want to be in the Christmas program.

  He shrugs, which doesn’t really indicate openness, but isn’t rejection either. I come closer to him and point down at his feet.

  “So, there’s this move you can do where you lean far to the left or right,” I say. “You have to make sure all your weight is on the outside edge of one foot and the inside edge of the other. Then when you’ve gone far enough, you can skim the ice with your hand. If you do it right, it looks really cool.”

  He frowns and looks down. “I thought it was bad to touch the ice?”

  “Only in a competition,” I say. “It’s considered a fall if anything other than a skate is on the ice. But in an exposition, you can pretty much do whatever you want as long as you throw some legit moves in. Here, let me show you.”

  Without waiting for an answer, I take off down the ice. When I’m ready, I lean down to my right. I’m a little rusty, so parts of the move aren’t exactly in their place. But I can work with that. As I go, I turn in a wide circle, skimming my fingertips along the surface of the ice.

  I’ve almost done a complete rotation when I see Adrian a few feet behind me, doing the same move perfectly. Abruptly, I stand up, nearly losing my balance. He soon catches up to me, stopping just before we collide.

  “Adrian, that was amazing!” I say. “Have you really never done this before?”

  He grins, showing me his dimples once again. “Honestly, no. But it feels a lot like reaching for a puck that’s a bit too far from the stick.”

  “Ah, now it makes sense.” I see the rink people waving at us to get off the ice for the Zamboni, so I motion to the gate. As we skate towards it, I say, “You know, you’re not bad for a hockey player.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” he answers with a shrug. “I’ve been skating since I was five. I should be able to do something better than just whipping down to the goal line.”

  I step up onto the rubber floor outside the rink. “You do skate really fast.”

  “Not in these things,” he says, picking up one foot as if to show me. “The toe picks keep getting in the way. I didn’t realize they were that much different.”

  “I’ve worn hockey skates exactly once in my life and I fell way too many times to admit,” I say. “They’re not as easy as they look.”

  Adrian looks at me for a moment, a half smile on his face. “Well, I think we can both agree on one thing—those speed-skating skates are the weirdest things ever.”

  I laugh out loud. “I know, eh? Like, why do they have to be so long?”

  “Right?”

  A silence falls between us that’s neither tense nor comfortable. It occurs to me that we’re the only two people standing out in the hallway, not even pretending we’re on our way to change out of our skates.

  “Can I drive you somewhere?” I ask before I lose my bravery. “Your Pops’s place or somewhere else?”

  “Oh,” he says, his eyes widening. “I thought you...couldn’t drive.”

  “Why? Because you can’t?” I ask.

  He scowls. “I can drive. I’m just...not allowed to at the moment.”

  “I see.” I look down the hall. Some of the families are coming out of the change rooms now. “Well, if you want that ride, it only takes me about thirty seconds to get my skates off.”

  I start down the hallway. After a moment, I feel a soft touch on my elbow. When I look up, Adrian is smiling at me.

  “I’ll race you,” he says in such a low tone I nearly fall over.

  I laugh as he awkwardly tries to run to his change room. Well, if that’s how he’s going to be, then I’ll show him just how fast I can get away from these stupid skates.

  Somehow though, when I come out of the change room, Adrian is already there waiting. He’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. There isn’t a single part of him I hate looking at and that terrifies me, so I focus on his skate bag hanging off one arm.

  “I’ll take that ride now,” he says.

  I look up into his eyes. He licks his lips and I lose the ability to speak, never mind driving. What was I thinking?

  CHAPTER ten

  Brooke

  Adrian follows me quietly to my car. As soon as he gets in, he opens his skate bag and takes them out.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as I start up the car.

  “I never wiped them off,” he says. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him rubbing them down with a soft cloth.

  I laugh. “That’s how you beat me? That’s totally cheating.”

  “You never said I couldn’t cheat,” he says with laughter in his voice. “Besides, I just cut a little corner, that’s all.”

  His words stop me cold and I accidentally slam on the brakes at a stop sign. Adrian, who never put on a seat belt, jolts forward and then scowls at me. But how do I explain to him how closely those words hit home?

  I remember meeting with a council member from the Olympics committee with my mom. Awkwardly trying to explain why I had nearly overdosed on stimulants.

  “I didn’t cheat,” I said indignantly, my face on fire. “Sure, I cut a corner, but—”

  “Cutting corners and cheating are the same thing,” the old guy said. He had a deep frown on his face and his eyebrows were drawn in as he stared down at me. “There is no cutting corners in the Olympics. You get here by working hard and perfecting your abilities.”

  “Are you okay?” Adrian asks.

  I realize I’ve stopped for far too long at the intersection so I step on the gas a little too hard. “Where do you want to go?” I ask tersely.

  If Adrian notices my inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he says, “Where’s the best place to get a burger around here?”

  I shrug, trying to shake off my memory and also focus on the present. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t eat burgers.”

  “Are you saying you won’t go with me and have one?” he asks.

  My heart picks up speed. It’s not the first time I wonder if he’s flirting with me or asking me out. But I’m still not sure what to say to him. With a split second to make a decision, I quickly make a left turn.

  “There’s a diner around here that has good burgers and salads,” I say.

  “Salad?” he says loudly. “I’m starving. We’re not having salads.”

  “We are not ordering for each other,” I tell him as I pull into the lot at Holly’s Diner. “So you can have whatever you want.”

  We go inside the cute 50s-esque diner that’s full of neon signs, pictures of old crooners, and electric guitars hanging on the walls. There’s even a jukebox in the corner that’s currently playing some doo-wop song.

  A nice waitress in her 30s comes by to take our order. Adrian gets his burger and fries. I tell her I’m really not hungry and ask for water. Once the waitress walks away, Adrian gives me a disapproving look.

  “I thought you were going to eat with me,” he says.

  I wave off his comment and look out the window. Wind blows some yellow and orange leaves down the busy street and past the cars. Without thinking, I shiver, even though it’s not cold inside.

  Adrian’s food comes a few minutes later and it smells. So. Good. I try not to stare at him, but sometimes you can’t tear your eyes away from a boy genuinely enjoying his food. And this one really likes his fries apparently.

  “So, like, do you think we could try doing some of that fancy stuff that Tessa and Scott do?�
�� he asks as he shoves three fries into his mouth. “Like all those lifts and throws?”

  I snort at the idea of us ever being as good as the famous ice dancing duo. “In five years, sure.”

  I watch him pick up another fry. They look so good. I haven’t had fries in forever.

  “Come on,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. He flex his arms and asks, “Don’t you want to soar through the air on these bad boys?”

  I choke a little as I stare at him. He takes a huge bite of his burger, closes his eyes, and chews forever. No amount of dimples can make that look cute.

  “Has that line ever actually worked on anyone?” I ask.

  He opens his eyes again and shakes his head. “It’s not a line. I’m serious. We could have a lot of fun doing something like that.”

  “Adrian...” I look down at my stomach where I know there are rolls concealed by my sweater. “You—you can’t do that. You’ll never be able to lift me.”

  He looks me up and down and scoffs before taking another bite of his burger. He makes a disgusted face. “I’m offended. And also, this is the worst burger I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

  “Shut up,” I say as he pushes his plate towards me. There’s lettuce, tomatoes, onions, pickles, ketchup, and mustard coming out the sides. It looks delicious. “People love this place, are you crazy?”

  He shrugs. “Guess I caught the cook on a bad day.”

  As he goes back to his fries, I ask, “Are you serious?”

  “Try it yourself if you don’t believe me,” he says.

  I actually don’t believe him, but I’ve never eaten a date’s food before. Then again...this isn’t exactly a date. And it does look really good. Inexplicably, I find myself reaching for the plate with the burger. I lift the burger to my lips and take almost as big a bite as he did.

  “Mmm,” I let out before I can help myself. I take a second bite, just to see whether I’m the crazy one or he is. It’s definitely him. “This is so good.”

  He smiles without a word and then it hits me.

  “Did you just...trick me into eating your burger?” I ask as I let the remainder of it drop to the plate.

  His smile widens and the twinkle is back in his eyes. “Have some fries, too.”

  “Adrian. No,” I say, feeling stupid for being duped like that. “I’m fat enough as it is.”

  His smile disappears—which is truly a shame—and he lifts an eyebrow. “And you call me crazy?”

  “How could do you do that to me?” I ask, pushing my chair away from the table.

  He reaches out and grasps my hand lightly. His eyes are serious now. “Brooke, I wasn’t trying to do anything to do you. I was just uncomfortable eating alone. Please don’t go.”

  I look into those lovely brown eyes, now full of sincerity. His hand doesn’t move and it’s the only sensation I can think about it—how nice it feels, how terrifying it is. My phone starts to ring, breaking the moment between us.

  I slip my hand out from under his and pull my phone out of my pocket. My heart drops when I see it’s my mom. “Hi,” I say breathlessly, ripping my gaze away from Adrian.

  “Brooke, where are you?” she asks, sounding frazzled. “The public skate ended a while ago and you never sent me a picture. I know you’re an adult, but—”

  “Aw, Mom, I’m sorry,” I say, before she starts going on about all the reasons she’s worried about me. “I forgot and now I’m at Holly’s with Adrian.”

  “Oh.” Her voice changes and I know she’s reading the situation all wrong.

  “I told Marie I’d ask him about the Christmas pageant, remember?” I try to lower my voice, but Adrian hears and lifts an eyebrow at me.

  “Well...well, come home soon, okay?” Mom says. “And send me a picture.”

  “Alright,” I say on a sigh. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  After I hang up, I open up my camera. Adrian’s still watching me, but at least he’s gone back to eating his fries. “Do you mind if I take your picture?”

  He shrugs, which I take for a yes. I lift my phone and manage to get Adrian and the neon Holly’s sign in the shot. At the last second, Adrian’s face splits into a wide grin. The picture is great. I can’t send that to my mom, so I take a second one really quickly and make sure it’s blurry.

  “Thanks,” I murmur as I send my mom the picture.

  “Your mom keeps pretty close tabs on you, eh?” he asks. I’m sure he meant it to sound innocuous but it doesn’t.

  “Yes,” I say. “Probably like your grandpa does.”

  Adrian rolls his eyes. “If Pops knew how to text, he’d probably bug me every five seconds.”

  Mom: Oh, he’s cute!

  My face flushes with heat. Of course she would say that.

  “Are you gonna finish that?” Adrian asks. He juts his chin at the burger we almost argued over.

  “No,” I say as my stomach rumbles. “But...I’ll have the rest of your fries.”

  “Deal,” he says, handing me the plate of fries. “So, are you going to ask me about the Christmas pageant?”

  “Marie wants to know if you’ll be in it,” I say, staring at the table. “A lot of the older kids who were in it last year have graduated, so the kids this year are a young group. Talented, but far less experienced than me or you.”

  “They’re probably still better skaters than me, though,” he says. “I’m not sure what she expects from me.”

  “She wants you to play Father Christmas,” I murmur.

  He laughs. “What?”

  I look up at him and grab another fry. “Santa graduated last year.”

  Adrian shoves the last bite of his burger in his mouth and says, “She wants me to skate in a fat suit?”

  I can’t help giggling at the sight of him trying to say that with his mouth full. I shouldn’t laugh or even encourage that, but I can’t help it. “No, just the red coat will do.”

  He nods. “Okay. And what will you be doing?”

  “Oh, I’m just choreographing,” I say quickly. “No one wants to watch me skate.”

  His eyes widen and he says, “But...but you’re like the best skater ever. Of course they’ll want to watch you.”

  I swallow hard. I’m a failure, but Adrian doesn’t know that. And I don’t want him to know it. But how do I explain that to him without actually...telling him?

  “I can’t,” I say lamely.

  Adrian takes our empty plates and stacks them neatly. He places them at the end of the table and then looks back at me. “Tell you what—I’ll play Father Christmas if you’ll be Mrs. Claus.”

  My eyebrows shoot to my forehead. “There’s no Mrs. Claus in the program.”

  He frowns. “There will be this year.”

  I don’t know whether to laugh or hit him, so instead I just gape at him. “Do any of your lines actually work on real people?”

  “Sometimes,” he says with a cheeky grin. “But it’s not a line, I promise. I just think it’d be more fun to skate with you than by myself. Especially since I know you’ll make me look ten times better than I ever will be.”

  His compliment flatters me more than I want to admit. “Okay. If Marie agrees, we’ll do a silly Santa and Mrs. Claus routine.”

  “Awesome,” he says, sounding like he really means it.

  Adrian pulls out his wallet to pay for the food. I try to offer him money, but he waves me off, giving me an adorable frown. When he asks for a ride to his pops’s place, I can’t refuse.

  Back in my car, he fiddles with the radio but there are basically no good stations around. He flicks it back off and flops back in the seat. It’s not a long drive to the house and I don’t want it to end so soon.

  “Will you tell me why you’re not allowed to drive?” I ask as I turn down his street.

  Instead of answering me, he asks, “Will you tell me why you won’t share a meal with me?”

  I sigh. “It’s not personal. I just...”

  “Don’t like eatin
g?” he fills in with a teasing lilt to his voice.

  But I’m not in a joking mood. I actually love eating and I’ve done enough overeating these last few months to last me a lifetime. “No, I like eating.”

  “So, it’s just me?”

  I pull into the driveway and ram the car into Park. When I look at him, I can tell he’s still teasing. “Adrian, stop. I’ve been trying to get back into shape and lose weight. That’s why I’ve been riding my bike everywhere and why I don’t want to eat any more burgers with you.”

  He furrows his eyebrows and then looks at me everywhere. Like, every little inch of me for an entire, excruciating moment. Just when I’m about to snap at him, he says, “I don’t think you can afford to lose any more weight, to be honest.”

  He gets out of the car while I’m floundering around for an answer to that. I want to yell at him and hug him at the same time and I don’t know which is worse. Before he reaches the porch, I whip my car door open.

  “Do you have any more stupid lines for me?” I shout at him.

  He whirls around, says, “Nope,” and winks.

  I rush back into the car and stare at the dashboard. I take a deep breath and let it out before I have the courage to look up again. Adrian’s standing on the porch watching me, and when he sees me look up, he smiles. I tell my heart to settle down, crank the car into gear, and drive away as fast as I can.

  CHAPTER Eleven

  Adrian

  I go inside, shut the door, and then lean my back against it. Closing my eyes, I rest my head on the door and listen as Brooke drives away. My heart’s been racing since I saw her at the rink, skating across the ice like I’ve only ever seen people do on TV. I haven’t felt this way since...

  Since the first time I saw Elli. We were in history and the teacher asked her to introduce herself. She told us her name is Elikapeka but no one ever says it right and to just call her Elli. She stood up straight and didn’t seem afraid like most new kids are. She had a great tan, the kind you can only get from spending a lot of time in the sun, but it was the middle of winter.