Fake Skating(27)

“I don’t know, she didn’t really go into it, but I get the impression that all the moves kind of messed with her. She sort of closes herself up, and has some social anxiety.”

“I can’t imagine Dani being an introvert,” I said, and the idea of it made something in my heart pinch as I pictured her red cheeks and lowered eyes in the library over lunch.

Nope—not my problem,I quickly reminded myself.

“Yeah, me either, but I’ve never had to switch schools every two years. That’d really have to screw with your head, y’know?”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” I said, unable to sympathize with Dani when I had enough shit to worry about.

“Yeah, I’m sure she is too,” my mom said. “I’m going to go check on the twins, but get some sleep, kid.”

“I will,” I said, even though I wouldn’t.

Between the ache in my shoulder and the stress in my brain, I could tell it was going to be a long night.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN Dani




“Grandpa’s going to drive you to school today,” my mom said as I walked into the kitchen. “Because I have an interview, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” I replied, though I hadn’t realized it meant having to ride with him.

“You look nice,” I said. “That dress screams ‘I would be an exemplary employee.’?”

“Sure it does,” she said, walking over to pull me into a hug. “I think it screams ‘I don’t know what’s cool anymore,’ but thank you just the same.”

“Anytime. You’re going to totally wow them.”

My phone buzzed.

Ben Worthington: I’ll be at my dad’s tonight if you need anything.

What? I could not imagine any scenario where I’d be needing Mr. Maserati, but also, like, why would he just send me a random text out of the blue? I supposed it was nice that he was checking in, but his message felt a little too familiar when we were basically strangers.

“She’s the best bullshitter I’ve ever met,” my grandpa said, smiling at my mom.

God, he should smile more. He almost looks… nice.

“Ready to go, kid?”

His smile disappeared when he looked at me.

Of course.

“Yes,” I said, sliding my arms into my winter coat.

Yesterday had been pretty uneventful at school (thank God), without any Alec sightings. His name was impossible to avoid because everyonewas talking about the bong picture—I wondered how he was handling it—but I hadn’t seen him at all.

Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be so lucky today because it was a B-day: public speaking day.

Not only would I be seeing him, but there was a chance I’d be called upon to give a speech to the entire class.

Please, God, no.

My grandpa turned on a hockey podcast when we got in his truck, which was good because I still hadn’t figured out how to talk to him. It seemed like we talked around each other a lot, but never directly toeach other. We rode in silence, which was helpful because I started going through my speech in my head, over and over again.

Ms. Sykes had told me I still needed to give the intro speech that everyone else had given at the beginning of the semester, so I was practicing what I’d written out, trying to make myself sound somehow interesting but boring, unremarkable but not mockable.

But the closer we got to the school while I practiced, the more nervous I got.

By the time we pulled into the parking lot, I felt almost dizzy with stress.

“You okay?”

I looked over at my grandpa, who I’d kind of forgotten was there, and he was once again watching like he knew what was going on with me.

I just nodded, unable to speak; that was how close I was to a full-on panic attack.

No. No. No. Not in front of him.

“Just take deep breaths through your nose,” he said, his hawklike gaze on mine. “They always save me.”

Wait. Is he saying…?

I cleared my throat, and all the questions I had must’ve been in my eyes, because he simply said, “I guess you get it from me. Sorry about that.”

He didn’t say anything else, just met my gaze.

And I could tell he wasn’t going to expand on that, which was okay, because it was enough. For the first time since arriving in Minnesota, and in the midst of my panic, I smiled at my grandpa.

“You should be,” I said. “Because this sucks.”

“Like I don’t know that.” He winked and said, “Now get out of the truck and go to school. Just keep breathing and you’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt with unsteady hands. “Thanks.”

His reminder helped, but only short-term.

Because the minute I walked into speech and saw Alec and his friends, draped across their desks like nothing fazed them, my fingertips felt numb. I breathed in through my nose and took my seat, desperately hoping I wouldn’t get chosen to give my speech that day.

But the universe was clearly out to get me, because Ms. Sykes sat down behind her desk and as soon as the bell rang, she called on me.

“All right, it’s a day full of speeches, so let’s not waste any time. Since one more student needs to give their intro speech, let’s knock that out before moving on. Miss Collins, why don’t you start us out for the day?”