Page 24 of Ruin The Friendship
“Can you help me?” his voice is small, hesitant.
“Of course. What do you need?” I crouch down to his level, taking in the sadness in his eyes.
“I can’t get my shot straight anymore, and my dad said if I don’t get better, he’s going to stop bringing me.” A lone tear streaks down his red cheek.
“Oh, buddy, no.” I pat his shoulder. “I won’t let that happen. We’ll keep you coming to hockey, and I’ll help you work on your shot, don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” He sniffles. “I want to keep playing. I can be better, Iknow I can.”
I help Luke with his shot, coaching him on getting the angles right and strengthening the power behind it until he feels more confident.
An hour later, there’s an announcement over the PA system that there are five minutes left in today’s practice. The hockey kids scoop up pucks and throw them in buckets, while the kids on the figure skating side continue working on their skills.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lydia, her cheeks flushed as she crouches down to help another child, much like I crouched down earlier to get on Luke’s level. They're smiling widely.
She’s so amazing with kids.
Another girl practices a jump, lands it, and skates backward, not paying attention to where she’s going. I’m too far away to stop her, but a few other people and I see it coming and shout as Lydia stands.
The girl skates right into her, knocking her hard onto the ice. I skate as fast as I can. The girl who hit Lydia is kneeling beside her, crying.
“Lydia,” I grit out as I drop to my knees beside her. Anxiety pounds through my body.
She’s prone on the ice, and I reach for her, but she’s already moving to sit up, her brows furrowed as she cradles her wrist to her chest.
“I’m fine,” she says to me, but I can see in her eyes that she isn’t. She turns to the kid. “Polly. You need to remember to watch where you’re going, especially when there are other people on the ice.”
“I’m so sorry,” Polly cries, her regret seeping through her words.
“I’m okay. But now you know for next time, right?”
Leave it to Lydia to use an injury as a lesson.
Polly nods, her eyes leaking tears faster than a faucet. The kids are moved away as I bend into Lydia’s space, taking her hand in mine to examine it.
“What hurts?” I ask, tenderly taking off her mitten and moving her palm so it’s facing up.
“I’m not sure. It’s not bad. I don’t think it’s broken, but I landed pretty hard on it. It’s probably sprained.”
“We’ll see.”
She fell hard, and landing on an outstretched hand like that puts the wrist at a higher chance to break. Lydia hisses as I twist her wrist to check mobility.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” Lydia says, pulling her hand from me. I’m not sure whether she’s trying to convince herself or me. Her wrist is already swelling.
“You’re lying. We should go to the ER.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.” She cradles her hand back against her chest and holds her good hand out. “Help me stand?”
I rise to my feet, taking hers and pulling her up. “We’re going to the ER.”
“No, we’re not. I’m fine, see?” She holds her arm out and flexes her fingers, but when she moves to twist her wrist, she gasps, swallowing a soft shriek.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on. They can handle the teardown without us tonight.” I wrap my arm around her waist, guiding her off the ice. Everyone claps and taps their sticks to the ice, lauding her as if she’s a player who was injured.
Lydia waves with her good hand as we leave. I help her get out of her skates and into her boots, then rush to get my own gear off. It’s a good thing we rode together; at least now we don’t have to worry about getting her car home later.
I start my car, so hopefully it’s at least a little warm bythe time we get to it in the parking lot. I grab her jacket and wrap it around her shoulders, pulling her into my body. Stopping at the locker room, I make an ice pack and pass it to her before we head outside.
