Outside Edge (Knockout Girl Book 5) Page 8

  Ugh. I put my hand on my stomach. Thinking about Elli makes me cringe and want to throw up. I was awful to her.

  Finally, I open my eyes and look around my pops’s front hallway. I’m nowhere near Bridgetown or any of the people who know what I did. I don’t even talk to my old friends anymore. They’ve all moved on with their lives while I’m way up north, planning to be Father Christmas. With Brooke.

  I shouldn’t lead her on. She deserves really great things in life. I am not one of those things.

  ***

  It’s Saturday night and Pops and I are eating dinner silently. He’s not a bad cook and I know he learned a lot after Memaw died. Still, I’d rather be eating a delicious hamburger with Brooke, but I won’t tell him that.

  I finish up quickly and take my plate to the sink. Pops is still quiet as I head to the front hall. “I’m going out,” I say.

  “Where?” he asks.

  “To Marie’s house,” I say simply. “She’s having another party tonight and I never get to do anything fun.”

  I smile to myself when I hear his quick footsteps coming towards me. “You can’t go to that,” he says as I’m pulling my jacket on.

  “Why not?” I ask. “Because there will be girls and alcohol there? No thanks, Pops. Marie’s crowd isn’t exactly my speed.”

  He meets my smirk with a scowl, crossing his arms. “It’s not funny, Adrian. It’s one thing for you to go to the Community Centre for your hours, and I’ll even allow you the occasional date with Brooke—”

  I roll my eyes and open my mouth to rebut him, but he doesn’t let me.

  “But I won’t allow you to go unattended to a house party,” he says.

  I’m not going to bother pointing out that a house party at Marie’s will be nothing compared to some of the ones I went to back home. Instead, I say, “Then come with me.”

  His stance shifts and now he looks uncomfortable. “I—I can’t do that.”

  “Alright.” I turn and put my hand on the door. “I’ll let you know how it is.”

  “Oh...fine,” he says gruffly. “If you’re so intent on going, then I’ll come, too. But only for a little while. We have some yard work to do in the morning.”

  Okay, I’ll find out what that dumb excuse is about later. For now, I wait for Pops to get his shoes and coat on. We head outside, where the sun is already low and a brisk wind passes by.

  “I forgot how early it gets cold here,” I say, clutching my jacket closed. Pops just grunts, so I try again. “Have you ever considered becoming a snowbird and just going down to Florida for the winter?”

  “Why would I do that?” he asks abruptly. “I love it here.”

  “I was just making conversation,” I mutter.

  Pops doesn’t answer. He just walks silently next to me, his hands in his pockets. Marie’s house is only a few blocks away but by the time we’re there, the street lamps have come on and the cold is cutting through my jacket.

  Inside the house, there’s soft classical music playing, quiet chitchat, and the smell of finger foods. Yup—definitely not like the parties I’ve been to.

  We walk into the living room, where most of Marie’s guests are sitting around her on fancy white couches. Most of them are women but there are some men here, sitting off to the side by themselves. It’s like a junior high dance, complete with giggling. Again—not exactly like my parties.

  Marie’s eyes light up when she us. “Ah, Henri, Adrian. You’re here! Come.”

  She scoots over and pats the impossibly small space next to her, locking her eyes on Pops. He sighs and settles himself between Marie and the 60ish lady on the other side.

  Which leaves me standing there with nothing to do. I really only came for Pops and now that he’s engaged in conversation, I wonder if I should go chat with the men or raid the kitchen.

  “Adrian, there’s a spot for you here, dear,” a voice says, making the decision for me.

  It’s Mrs. Rockett who’s opened up a space for me in the middle of the long couch. I put on my people-pleasing smile and sit on the couch with them.

  “Hello, ladies,” I say.

  Mrs. Rockett takes my hand and squeezes so hard I can feel her rings dig into me. “Oh, it’s been so long since we’ve gotten to catch up with you. How are you?”

  “I’m just fine,” I say. Except the feeling in my fingers is gone.

  “And are you still playing hockey?” the woman on the other side of me asks. Her hair looks like it was recently permed and her eyes are wide behind her round glasses. I have no idea who she is but she knows me.

  “Uh, not right now,” I say, not wanting to explain the rest.

  “Oh, that’s right,” another lady on the other side of Mrs. Rockett says. “You’re skating for Marie right now. She told us all about you and Brooke. It’s so nice you’re both here to help out with that.”

  I smile at her. “That’s right. I’m doing a little skating with Brooke right now.”

  “Oooohhh,” they all coo in unison, looking at each other with smiles and wide eyes. My cheeks warm up and I chuckle nervously. How could they have misread what I said?

  I clear my throat and ask, “How’d the garden do this year?”

  Well, that immediately distracts them. They start clucking their tongues and shaking their heads and I can tell the garden did not do well. Every year, there’s a silly competition between several rural North Ontario towns to see which community garden is the prettiest. Every year, the losing towns swear the game is rigged.

  While they tell me all about Glen’s Gardens, I watch my pops. Marie is talking his ear off, gesturing widely and I can tell her story is very important to her. I smile when I see how much she’s enjoying his company. But my smile slips when I see him inching farther and farther away from her. Eventually, he excuses himself and bolts up from the couch.

  “Excuse me, ladies,” I say, getting up, too.

  I follow Pops to the kitchen and when we get there, he says in a low voice, “It’s time to go, Adrian.”

  “Already?” I ask. “We just got here and I haven’t even had a chance to ask about everyone’s plans for Christmas decorations yet.”

  I’m only half serious, but I don’t like being bossed around. Pops gives me a warning look and then motions me towards the front hall. I don’t have much choice, unless I want to make a scene in front of all these people. Still, I won’t let him sneak out the way he seems to want to.

  I pass back through the living room and announce loudly, “Well, folks, looks like we’ve got an early morning. So we’ll just be heading out. Thanks for the invite, Marie.”

  Marie’s eyes widen and she starts to rise out of the couch. But when she sees that Pops isn’t even bothering with a goodbye, she slouches back down. I look away before I accidentally give her a pitying look. She deserves better.

  In the front hall, Pops is holding my jacket so I rip it out of his hands. We leave the house and I wait until we’re a few feet down the street to say anything.

  “What’s the matter with you, Pops?” I ask, feeling irrationally angry. “Marie’s great. She’s attractive—for her age, anyway—and totally available.”

  He shoots me a grumpy look. “You don’t think I know Marie is interested in me? I know I’m old, but I’m not stupid.”

  I stop walking and ask, “So, what’s the problem?”

  He stops, too, and slowly turns to face me. His eyes are sad now as he whispers, “Your love for someone doesn’t just die when they do.”

  My heart sinks down into my stomach. Here I was thinking Pops hates Marie or something when the truth is the opposite—he’s still in love with Memaw. “I—I didn’t realize...”

  “No,” he says, his voice breaking a bit. “You didn’t. How could you? You’re only eighteen. Have you ever even been in love?”

  I choke on my reply. I’ve had my share of girlfriends in the past. Elli is probably the one I liked the most, the one whose breakup hurt the most. But I don’t think I was e
ver in love with her. Not like a man who’s been married to his wife forever.

  “You can’t just wipe away sixty years of history for a fling, Adrian,” he says. He’s not mad but he does have that patronizing tone in his voice like I’m a little kid.

  I look down at my shoes. “I wasn’t suggesting a fling...” I say quietly.

  “Well, I don’t want whatever you were suggesting,” he says.

  He begins to stiffly walk away again and I have no choice but to follow him. He’s silent as we make our way home and doesn’t even stop to say goodnight to me before shutting his bedroom door. Did I hurt him that badly by pointing out something he apparently already knew? How could I have so badly misjudged the situation?

  ***

  A few days later, I go to the Community Centre for more skating practice. I’m still feeling terrible for trying to force Pops into something he’s obviously not ready for. I’m also starting to feel anxious when I remember that I agreed to play Father Christmas, of all things.

  Marie is already working with the nine-to-twelve-year-old group and she smiles warmly when she sees me. Brooke is either not here yet or not coming at all. I hope it’s the former.

  The kids make a line that’s more or less straight and start doing a warm-up lap around the rink. Marie comes over to me while I watch them go.

  “Thank you for coming to my party,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “And for bringing your grandpère with you. I feel like he needs to get out more often.”

  I smile back but I’m sure it looks as fake as it feels. The kids finish their lap and form a loose circle, trying out some of the moves they learned last week. Marie skates over to the kids vying for her attention, laughing delightedly as they show her their new tricks. She’s so nice and really means well, but apparently Pops isn’t ready for that.

  “Everything okay?” a sweet voice asks from behind.

  I turn around to see Brooke’s eyebrows lowered over her hazel eyes. “Yeah...” I say, shoving my hand through my hair. “It’s just...”

  I come close to her so my voice won’t carry and now her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. As if by instinct, she takes hold of my elbows, so I grasp hers as well.

  “I can tell Marie really likes my Pops,” I say quietly. She starts to smile and I shake my head. “But he’s still not over my Memaw, so...”

  “Oh,” she says in a sad, gushy voice. She looks over to where the little kids are practicing the moves Marie’s showing them. “Poor Marie.”

  “I know.” I let out a long breath. “I wish there was something I could do, but he flat-out told me he wasn’t interested.”

  Brooke frowns. “I’m sure she’s still sad about Lorenzo, too. But everyone deals with grief in a different way, you know?”

  I swallow hard and nod. I’m not sure I want to talk about grief right now. With her arms still held firmly in my hands, I start skating backwards and lead her gently around the rink. A smile spreads across Brooke’s face and when it reaches her eyes, my breath catches in my throat.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  I look over my shoulder to make sure I won’t run into anyone and shrug. “I dunno. Teach me some of your fancy moves.”

  She laughs and moves her hands until she’s holding mine. Quicker than I realized she could move, she spins so that she’s skating backwards behind me. Now she’s holding on to my left hand with her left hand and her other hand is on my right shoulder.

  “I thought I was leading,” I say as she speeds up the slightest bit.

  “Girls get to take the lead a lot in ice dancing,” she says. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You’re gonna go on the outside edge of your left skate. When you’re ready, I’ll push you from behind and pull on your hand so you can do a spin. Ready?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  As soon as I feel the gentle push on my shoulder, I go on the outside edge like she told me to. She pulls on my hand and then lets go, setting me in motion. The spin starts off just fine, but then I realize I have no idea what to do with it after.

  Stopping isn’t something I considered and now I’m flailing around, both feet kicking out at awkward angles. Finally, with nothing better to do, I fall to the ice, my legs splayed out.

  “On second thought,” I say, “maybe I wasn’t ready.”

  Brooke comes over, hiding a smile behind her fingers. “It wasn’t that bad. I guess I assumed you’d know what to do as soon as I let go.”

  “I did not.” I get back up and brush the ice dust off my legs. “But I’m willing to try again, if you are.”

  “I’d like that,” she says with a huge smile.

  I can’t help smiling back at her as she gets into position again. We try the move at least five more times. I only get it right once. But when I do the spin and stop perfectly with my pick in the ice, it’s totally worth it to see her clapping and cheering for me.

  I hear some more enthusiastic applause from behind us, so I turn around and bow for the little ones. It’s silly but...my heart feels lighter than it has in months.

  “Hey, you want to try on the Santa suit?” Brooke asks.

  I laugh. “Of course I do.”

  CHAPTER Twelve

  Brooke

  Something is different about Adrian. He’s lighter—and not just on his feet. Today his smile reaches his dimples and his eyes, and he doesn’t complain when he falls on the ice a bunch of times. I’m about to lead him off the ice to go find the Santa suit when we get stopped by one of the older skaters.

  “Excuse me,” she says in a voice that’s more sassy than polite.

  “Um, yeah?” I say.

  She looks straight at Adrian and says, “I want to do a spin, too.”

  He puts his hands on his hips and says, “And I want to hear a please.”

  Her green eyes open dramatically and she says, “Please...I want to do a spin.”

  Adrian looks at me and shrugs. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “Hmm...” I take his hands and pull him over to her. “I’ll do you both a favour. Adrian, you’re going to learn how to spin someone.”

  “Yay!” the girl shouts, clapping her hands.

  “This is a bad idea,” he says slowly.

  “Nah, it’ll be fun,” I say, leading him closer to the girl. “We’ll do one where we’re skating forwards, because that’s a little easier.”

  Adrian stops behind the girl and says, “Thanks for starting me off easy, then.”

  I smile. “Adrian’s going to push you from behind at your waist. Which edge are you more comfortable with—inside or outside?”

  “Inside,” the girl says confidently, her eyes shining with excitement.

  “Okay, so we’ll do a spin on your...” I look down at her legs. Her right one is definitely stronger. “Right leg. Adrian, you’ll need to gain a little speed while you’re pushing, but not too much. When you’re both ready, Adrian will push forward and spin you to the left. Got it?”

  “Yup!” the girl replies.

  “Are you sure about this, Cindy Lou Who?” Adrian asks, his eyebrows drawn in.

  She scowls at him in the most adorable way and says, “My name is Lilac, not Cindy.”

  “Whatever, Lily,” he says as he puts his hands on her back. I’m sure he’s just trying to annoy her now.

  “I said, it’s Lil—ah!”

  Adrian cuts her off as he starts racing away. I know he’s going too fast, but I’m laughing too hard to stop him. He rushes halfway up the rink, shouts something at Lilac, and pushes her. The push gives her just enough force to keep her momentum going while she does her spin. My mouth gapes open as she spins twice and stops, only wobbling a little bit.

  I start clapping and Lilac curtsies with a satisfied grin on her face. Adrian laughs, a sweet sound that draws my attention away from her. The other kids are swarming him now, demanding to be spun across the ice like Lilac. Adrian puts his hands up and looks at Marie helplessly.

  “Why not?” Marie
says with a warm smile on her face. “This will be good practice for you and the children.”

  He shrugs and with one of those adorable, dimply smiles says, “Alright, who’s next?”

  One by one, Adrian takes each kid down the ice and practices a little spin with them. Some of them do just as well as Lilac and I try to remember their faces so I can choreograph more complex moves for them in the programme. The ones that fall or can’t quite do a spin, I keep in mind so that Marie and I can work harder with them.

  After the last kid has had their turn with Adrian, he comes back to me with that huge smile on this face. “Your turn, Brooke,” he says.

  “Oh...no,” I say, my face going red, I’m sure. “I don’t think you’ll be able to do that. It’s easy with little kids, but I’m quite a bit bigger than them.”

  He groans. “I feel like you’re always trying to emasculate me. Come on, let’s go for a spin.”

  He grabs my waist and starts pushing me forward. With a little yelp, I move my own feet forward but let him guide us around the rink. While I don’t mind the feeling of his hands on me, I’m starting to wonder what’s taking him so long to get to the spin.

  When he’s almost done a full lap around the rink, I say over my shoulder, “Okay, I’m ready.”

  He laughs and finally pushes me with just the right angle for me to do a spin. Taking the momentum he’s given me, I start a fast spin, raising my arms as I go until they’re high above my head and crossed at the wrist. I close my eyes, getting lost in a motion that is so sickening familiar it makes me dizzier than the spinning does.

  Finally, I stop my spin and lower my arms. Everyone is staring at me with their mouths open, including Adrian. After a second, they clap—though the spin could have been better—and I curtsy for them. Adrian comes forward, that smile still on his face. I realize that I would do ten spins in a row if it meant he’d keep looking at me like that.

  “That was so cool!” he says. “Teach me to do that.”

  I laugh. His enthusiasm is infectious. “One day, young grasshopper.”