Fake Skating(104)

My mom looked like she didn’t know how to answer.

“Is he?” I repeated. “Come on, don’t sugarcoat it—it’s fine.”

“He’s staying in Germany.” She crossed her arms and said, “I’m sorry, honey.”

I nodded, the words Grandpa Mick shouted at my dad last night coming back to me as if I’d committed them to memory.

If you gave a damn, you’d take any fucking assignment in this country to be closer to her.

You’d move to Offutt, even if you hated it, just so you could see her every once in a while.

You’d take any little crumb you could get because she’s your daughter and she matters to you.

“So he just left,” I said, swallowing hard because it felt like there was a marble stuck in my throat. “Without even calling or talking to me first.”

He was my dad, and he was the colonel, but that seemed like something a pouty kid would do, leaving without a goodbye after not getting his way.

“C’mere, honey,” she said, patting the sofa beside her.

I came over and sat beside her, and it felt so good to have her wrap her arms around me. I was all out of tears, thank God, but I closed my eyes and snuggled into her comfort.

“Your dad loves you so much,” she said, kissing the top of my head. “And I will never hate him, because he’s your dad. I want you to have him in your life.”

“I know,” I said, feeling like such garbage for not telling her about his plans sooner.

“But he was way out of line, trying to get you to move away in that way. You know that, right?”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said, surprised to discover I actually still had more tears left inside me. I swiped them away and told her, “I love living here with you. I think I was so surprised that he was actually trying that I just… I don’t know, didn’t want to shut it down, maybe.”

“I can understand that,” she said, patting my arm. “But trust me when I tell you that life is easiest when you’re honest. It’s not always fun, but it’s definitely easier.”

I nodded but couldn’t talk, because that made me picture Alec’s face when he said, Why don’t you tell me the truth?

“Do you really love it here, kid?” she asked. “Just because I do doesn’t mean you have to, you know.”

“No, I really do love it here,” I admitted, but suddenly I was crying again.

“Oh, honey, what is it?” my mom asked, putting both her hands on my cheeks and examining my face. “Tell me what’s the matter.”

I hiccuped out a sob and gave her a very vague we broke up story.

“You can’t call him and work out whatever this is?” she asked, which was a fair question when I’d left out the important details.

“Nu-uh,” I said, blowing my nose.

I ached to do that, to run back to his house and tell him the truth, but that would be selfish. That would be me acting like my father, putting what I wanted over everything else, and I wasn’t going to do that.

I couldn’t do that.

When I pictured Alec’s scared face last night, when he thought he might’ve ruined everything, I knew it was for the best.

“It’s over for good,” I said definitively, like I’d never meant anything more. “And I’m glad.”



* * *



On Monday morning, I told my mom I was sick. I was pretty sure she knew it was a lie, but she just gave me a look and called the office.

I stayed in my room all day, buried under the covers, watching mindless reality TV shows on repeat. I heard my grandpa moving around downstairs, but it wasn’t until the doorbell rang at six o’clock that it even felt like he knew I was there.

“Dani, get down here,” he yelled. “Your friends are here.”

I gasped and scrambled over to the window, and when I saw Cassie’s car, I was equal parts relieved and disappointed not to see Burrito.

Joke’s on you, Grandpa—I don’t have any friends of my own,I thought. They’re actually his.

I didn’t want to face them, but I supposed it’d be better if they yelled at me here than at school. I didn’t even bother looking in the mirror because I knew what I’d see. My hair was a rat’s nest and I’d been wearing my pajamas for over twenty-four hours: not pretty at all.

But I didn’t care.

I walked down the stairs, my stomach full of dread.

But when I hit the bottom of the steps, I was surprised to see Grandpa Mick smiling.

“—so you did a good job, but she couldn’t stop when she had to switch directions.”

Cassie was talking about boot hockey, being typical hilarious Cassie, and my grandpa looked charmed.

“Okay, girl,” Lillie said, smiling as she looked over at me from where she was sitting beside Liz on the couch. “I thought you might’ve been playing hooky, but you really do look awful.”

Let the roast begin.

“You don’t look awful,” Cassie said. “You just look… comfortable.”

“I agree with Lillie,” Grandpa Mick said. “That’s some kinda hair.”

“Gee, thanks.” God, I don’t want to face them. I was so nervous to be alone with them, terrified they hated me. Because they no doubt heard that I broke up with Alec and probably wondered what kind of a terrible girlfriend would do such a thing during the state tournament.