“Nope.” I shoved a spoonful of vanilla ice cream into my mouth, but this time, it did nothing to make me feel better.
If ice cream couldn’t even make me happy again, then the situation was more than fucked up.
Reece reached a hand over the table, holding mine. “Even if she does sue you, she can’t prove that you injured him on purpose, especially since we all know you didn’t. If what Ilya says is true, that Erik told her it wasn’t your fault, then all she does is harm herself. Besides, accidents happen. It’s part of the whole skater experience. And if she really sues you, she better be prepared for all the pictures and videos I have on my phone of him purposefully dropping you just because he was mad.”
The first time Erik dropped me, we all brushed it off as an accident because… Reece was right. Accidents happened. Even the second and third time was brushed off as an accident. But the more frequently these “accidents” occurred, the more skeptical Reece got, and so he started to record huge chunks of Erik and I’s on-ice lessons.
I knew he had a couple of videos of Erik dropping me where it was obvious that he’d done it on purpose. For instance, there was one video where Erik was supposed to catch me after a jump, but he didn’t because he was wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
We were trained to ignore a runny nose during a performance.
“I don’t want to start any drama,” I said. All I wanted was some peace and quiet, and a skating partner who wasn’t anything like Erik.
Reece’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, and I smiled when my eyes fell on the ring on my finger.
I hadn’t worn it all weekend because I didn’t want Dad to see it before we told him, so when I left the house this morning to start my first day at St. Trewery, the first thing I did when I sat in Reece’s car was put on the ring.
“You’re not starting it, the dick’s mother did,” Reece vetoed. “But on the bright side, we now know where the dick gets his asshole-like attitude from.”
I chuckled, ready to tell Reece to stop calling Erik a dick, even if he was, when my father’s voice interrupted me.
“Why did I just get a call from Erik’s father?” Dad asked as he came marching into the dining room. “But more importantly, why are his parents reaching out to me for something that happened between the two of you, like you’re in middle school again?” He sighed heavily, taking a seat at the table with us. “Last I checked, Elliot and Nova are in middle school, not you. And unlike Eden, I never received any calls about you when you were in high school either, so why are parents reaching out to me about younow?”
Dad took my bowl of ice cream from me, stealing a spoon of my comfort food as if he didn’t know it was supposed to makemefeel better.
My eyes narrowed at him. “That’s my ice cream.”
He shrugged. “I spent the past twenty years of my life sharing my food with you. Let me steal yours for a change.”
“Technically, it’s yours,” Reece threw in. “I mean, we didn’t pay for it, and this is your restaurant, so…”
Dad looked at Reece, nodding. “Exactly. It’s my ice cream.” He stole another spoonful of my vanilla ice cream before his eyes were back on me. “So, why’s Erik’s father trying to get me to meet up with him to discuss ‘further actions’? Whatever that is supposed to mean.”
“He broke both of his legs at practice earlier because he tripped,” Reece told him, sounding a little too happy for my liking. “Since he pulled Brooke down with him, she tripped over his legs and probably made it a little worse, but that wasn’t her fault, yet his parents like to think Brooke did it on purpose.”
Dad blinked once, then burst into laughter. He was quick to slap a hand over his mouth, trying to stop himself. “That’s not funny, Reece,” he said, still having a hard time containing his laughter.
Reece’s mouth opened in protest, but he refrained from making a snarky comment, or so I thought. “I apologize, Mr. King. I should be more mature at my age. Even assholes like Erik don’t deserve to break a bone or two.” He joined my father’s amusement, and for just a second, I could feel the corners of my lips pull up into a smile. At least until I remembered what Erik’s injuries meant for me.
“Either way,” I began to get their attention again. When they both stopped laughing and averted their eyes at me, I continued. “I’m going to need a new partner for next year. Finding a new one for this season is useless. I don’t want the leftovers, and even if I decide to settle for one of the skaters nobody wants to skate with, we will never be good enough to make it to the Grand Prix.”
It took me a while to get comfortable with new people. To make pair skating look elegant, the pairs needed to have some sort of chemistry and be comfortable with one another. There was no way I’d been able to build a strong connection with a stranger within a week. It took me an entire year to warm up to Erik.
And frankly, I deserved better than a leftover guy or a newbie. I hadn’t been skating my entire life just to fail because my partner was awful.
Okay, I knew even new skaters could be good on the ice, but I wasn’t going to risk it. Either I would do this season with someone who was at least as good as me, or I wasn’t going to participate at all.
Dad started to suggest possible solutions but I was too busy watching Reece to listen to my father.
Reece reached for his phone—which he rarely did when my dad was talking to us—scrolling for a moment before his eyes settled on something that seemed to be interesting enough for a little crease to appear between his eyebrows.
For a moment, he just stared at the screen before looking up at me. His eyes were gleaming with something joyous, and a shy smile formed on his lips.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked, curiosity in my voice.
“Okay, so… don’t get mad,” he said, instantly catching my father’s attention with his words, even if they were directed at me.
Dad leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he raised his eyebrows. “If she won’t, I will.”