Page 23 of Ruin The Friendship
I groan, shoving him off. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m fine!”
“You really worried me! Can you blame me for being concerned?” He sits up and widens his eyes; they’re filled with emotion and concern.
Do I tell him now? No, I can’t. I’m not ready. I have to see the doctor and make sure everything is okay, and then I can tell Fletcher. I have a plan.
“I’m sorry.” I open my arms to him. “I didn’t mean toworry you. I promise I’m okay. It was just a weird thing, nothing to be worried about.”
Fletcher leans into my embrace, holding me tightly. “I’m always going to worry about you, Lydi. You’re my closest friend.”
“I know. I appreciate you more than you know.” His familiar embrace soothes me, and his spicy-scented cologne tickles my nose more than usual.
“Right back at you. I’m glad you’re okay.” He holds me for another moment before pulling back. “What time do we have to leave?”
I glance at the time on my phone. “Probably within twenty minutes or so. Are you still coming?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Let me change and grab my stuff, and we can go. Can we grab a smoothie or something for the road?”
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
Fletcher heads to his room. “I still can’t believe you went to The Black Rooster without me. Can we get it for dinner, please?”
“Fine.” It sounds like the least appetizing thing in the world, even though just two nights ago, it was the best food I’d ever tasted.
10
FALLING FORWARD
FLETCHER
Seeing Lydia in person eased my concerns. She seems fine today, and watching her out on the ice with the kids has always been one of my favorite things.
One half of the ice is for the figure skaters, the other for hockey, so Lydia and I are always on opposite ends during these events. It never stops me from keeping an eye on her.
She takes off her mitten and uses her hand to demonstrate to the young girl how to lift her arms higher before she goes into a skill. When the girl does it right this time, Lydia cheers and offers her a high five. I can’t help but smile as I watch her. She’s always been so good at coaching. It’s not my favorite thing. Nothing against the kids, I’m just not a great teacher. I can’t verbalize how they should change a minor detail to get the puck in the net. Lydia, however, sees the little things.
I notice that instead of putting her mitten back on, she shoves it into her vest pocket. Her hands are going to get cold. I tilt my chin in the direction of another coach, letting him know I’m stepping away, and skate over to Lydia.
I stop in front of her, making sure I don’t spray her with any snow.
“Hey!” She greets me with a smile. Her cheeks are rosy red, and her hat is askew on her head. “What's up?”
I reach up to fix her hat. “You need to put your mittens back on.”
She furrows her brow, glancing at her hands. “They’re fine, Fletcher. I’m demonstrating. I need my hands.”
“Use your handswithyour mittens on.” I pull the mittens from her pocket. “You’re going to freeze.”
Lydia huffs, holding out her hands for me to put her mittens on. “There, is that better, you weirdo?”
“Much.” I boop her nose before skating away.
A voice pulls my attention. “Mr. Graff.”
It’s Luke. He's one of the boys I’ve been working with for a few years, and he skates over to me when I’m back on the hockey side of the ice.
“Hey, buddy. What’s up?”
He’s only seven or eight years old, but the kid is good at hockey. If he keeps up, he could be phenomenal. The next Adam Davison, but I’d never tell Adam I said that. Can’t let his head get too big.
