Fake Skating(114)

“So I never stopped writing to you, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me,” I finished in a rush as everyone in the room waited for me to shut up so they could get my boyfriend to surgery.

I expected Alec to look pissed or shocked, because I was still very both of those things when I thought of what my father had done, but he shrugged.

Alec shrugged—with the most adorably sleepy smile—and said, “Looks like we’ve got a lot to catch up on when I wake up, honey.”

So back to the question. Was I good?

I nodded, wondering how it was possible to be this happy. “Never been better, Grandpa.”





DANI’S EPILOGUE April




“I’m going to get the mail,” I said as I walked into the kitchen, my eyes barely open.

“I was starting to think you were gonna sleep all damn day,” my grandpa said, stirring a pot of ramen noodles on the stove. “I’m already having lunch.”

“Only because you eat too early,” I replied, snagging a Red Bull from the fridge.

Although to be fair, it was almost one o’clock. Alec had come over last night and we’d watched TV until like two thirty (when Grandpa kicked him out), so sleeping in had been absolutely necessary.

“Grab all the mail,” my mom said. “Not just your stuff.”

“Fine,” I said, setting down the drink. “But I’m not putting on shoes.”

“It’s a nice morning—you’ll be fine.”

The second I opened the door, I let out a huge sigh because, God—spring was finally here. The sun was shining and birds were chirping and my feet weren’t even cold as I walked down the driveway in my socks.

There was nothing like spring after a long, cold winter.

My phone buzzed, and when I pulled it out of my pocket, I saw it was a text from my dad.

Dad: Are we still on for FaceTime later?

I replied: Yep—14:00 my time, right?

Dad: Sounds good.

My dad and I, after everything blew up, kind of landed in a decent place. He was still the colonel most of the time, but he actually was trying. We had a standing FaceTime date, every Saturday at two p.m., and so far, he’d shown up every time.

And as of now he was planning on coming for my graduation.

Weird, right?

I opened the mailbox and grabbed the stack of letters, ignoring all of them as I flipped for what I really wanted, for the piece of mail I received every single Saturday.

There it is.

I grinned as I looked at the picture on the vintage postcard; it was a snapshot of Kriz’s Bakery circa 1981.

God, I love him.

I flipped it over, reading the coded message while wondering how I was so lucky.

Collins—

Greetings, girl-whose-mouth-I-like-to-kiss.

1. This morning on the way to school, I almost rear-ended a Subaru because I was distracted by your legs—you’ve got nice knees, kid.

2. I don’t want to teach you to drive anymore—you suck—but I love you, so you can’t be mad.

Counting down the days until summer,

Alec



I giggled—he was sonot getting out of our driving lessons, and I wondered if any of our neighbors ever looked out their windows and wondered what was up with the girl who laughed at the mailbox every Saturday.

I was walking back up the driveway when I saw it.

Harvard.

There was a large white envelope from Harvard, addressed to me.

Ohhhhhhhh.

They didn’t send big envelopes full of paperwork to students not getting accepted, right? I stared down at it as my stomach went all light and fizzy, as I realized the final answer was probably inside that very envelope.

I felt like I was going to puke as I held that thick packet in my hands, dying to rip it open but also too scared to dare.

“Hey, Danigirl?”

I tore my gaze from the Harvard mail to see my grandpa and my mom, both standing on the porch.

“Yeah?”

“No one will be mad if you want to go open that big envelope with the Barczewski kid,” Grandpa Mick said, grinning.

They knew. They’d seen the envelope in the mailbox, but they’d left it for me to grab.

“Thank you!”

“Just remember to breathe through your nose,” he added, making me love him even more since we’d both been working really hard—together—at being proactive with our… issues.

I shoved the other letters back in the mailbox, clutched Harvard to my chest, and started running down the sidewalk.

“You’re not gonna change first?” my mom yelled.

“Or bring us the rest of the mail?” Grandpa Mick asked.

“Nah,” I yelled back, jogging.

“You look like a crazy person, kid!” my grandpa yelled, but I could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Takes one to know one!” I yelled back, only interested in getting to Alec.

I ran down the block, not caring that I was wearing my pajamas and hadn’t even looked in a mirror yet. I went as fast as my legs would carry me and didn’t stop until I was on the Barczewskis’ porch, maniacally ringing the doorbell.

“Danigirl!” Big John said when he opened the door. His smile grew a little when he looked at my pajamas and stockinged feet. “Wow. You’re a sight this afternoon, kid.”