Spiral (Off the Ice Book 2)
Spiral: Chapter 8

WHEN LIFE GIVES you lemons, it douses you in acidic juices that burn your skin too.

When I ruffled through my mailbox earlier, I expected to find flyers and coupons, but a white envelope stuck out in between the junk mail. I tore it open and found bold, red letters that read REJECTED.

The small ballet company I applied to a few weeks ago that exclusively performs for nursing homes seemed like a great opportunity. They are so old school the application required a mail-in audition tape. But the gig was stable, and I thought it might be nice to finally settle down. What a joke that was.

Inside my apartment, I toss the letter in the trash and head straight for the shower. To ease my impending meltdown, I light a lavender-scented candle in the bathroom. Shedding my clothes, I twist the handle only for it to clatter to the floor and land on my toe. I sit there, naked in the tub, clutching my foot with a quiet sob that I muffle with my hand.

My neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Fielder, get grumpy when I disturb one of their afternoon naps with my crying sessions. According to them, women only cried when their husbands went off to war. Personally, I’d like to think they celebrated instead.

However, there’s no cause to celebrate for me, because along with Elias boiling me down to an undatable mess, I have to face my very first rejection.

After a long, pitiful attempt at playing handyman, I turn the faucet only to the cold setting. I take the quickest shower of my life. Even in the freezing shower, and with my body in survival mode, flashes of Elias’s disbelief from earlier play in front of my eyes. It was humiliating.

With my teeth chattering, I slip into jeans and a white top. In the kitchen, I empty the plastic bag of sugar-free cookies into a container. The moms would judge me if they found out I bought the cookies at a grocery store. But the oven in my apartment hasn’t worked since I tried to cook a lasagna a few months back. I didn’t tell my landlord because she would ask me to pay for it. So frozen dinners in the microwave are my go-to.

Today, Sean’s school has a spring barbecue that’s mandatory for parents and guardians. That means taking a train a few hours away to eat corn and pretend that everyone is not whispering about our family. The silver lining is that I get to see Sean after months, and although he understands I’m busy, I’d like to make up for the missed calls.

Scanning my Presto card at the station, I make it just in time for the afternoon train that takes me straight to York Prep School, the all-boys school in a quiet suburb, surrounded by houses with acres of land separating them from their neighbors, and women who keep their poodles in designer bags.

It’s no secret that getting Sean accepted to York was difficult, but with some luck and a help from our uncle, he was admitted. He wasn’t enthused about living at a boarding school, but his best friend keeps him sane.

Sean’s best friend, Josh Sutherland, hails from a family of ranchers. He has a business tycoon for a dad and a motivational speaker who writes bestsellers like she’s popping Tic Tacs for a mom. He’s the sweetest kid I know and nothing like those snot-nosed boys who bullied Sean when he first started at York. Our family history is not a secret, and the parent board made sure the principal knew about the “delinquent” they allowed into the community. Sean never complained about any of the harassment, and I only found out because Josh punched his classmate for asking if Sean had an addiction too. Not a funny joke, and Josh made sure the kid knew that.

My sandals slap against the unstained pavement as I cross the short path, careful to watch for the self-driving cars that cruise by in an undetectable whisper.

Inspecting my Tupperware, I’m relieved I’ve kept the sugar-free cookies from crumbling on the shaky train ride. When I spot the fairy lights that run along the ivy-covered brick walls, they lead me straight to the picnic tables in the outdoor area, filled with homemade desserts and what looks like a vegan alternative for barbecue food.

The formality of greeting anyone at the crowded table has never been something I had to worry about, so I slip past them to the bowl of strawberry refresher. It isn’t long before I feel the weight of a gaze on my skin, but I focus on eyeing the area for Sean or Josh.

But with my luck recently, it’s not Sean that finds me, it’s my miserable past.

My ex-boyfriend is waving at me.

Owen Hart weaves through a swarm of judgmental parents and their equally irritating children and beams brightly at me. I spot his brother sitting on the bench, giving me a tight smile before focusing back on his phone. He was a part of the group of kids who bullied Sean four years ago when he first started at York Prep. But when the parents were called in, Owen showed up with his parents and apologized profusely for his brother’s actions. He offered to drive me home that day, and we had been together ever since. Well, until a few months ago.

He’s staring as though I’ll disappear if he looks away. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m stuck in place like an immovable boulder. There is a part of me that wishes we could have stayed together, because it would make my life much easier. He was the only stable thing in my life I could cling to, but ultimately, that’s what broke us.

I assumed he’d been drafted to a team somewhere out of the country, so I wouldn’t see him today.

This is not what I had in mind.

“Sage.” He pulls me in for a hug that leaves an itchy feeling under my skin.

“Owen. What are you doing here?”

It’s obvious what he’s doing here, but I’m not one for inventive small talk.

“You didn’t hear the news?”

“What news?” I’ve been strategically staying away from the news after Elias mentioned there may be a man with a camera who will start following me. Though I’m sure they would get bored rather quickly.

“I got called up.”

No.

“I’m the new right-winger for the Toronto Thunder.” His words project like rocks aimed at my head, and I try not to flinch. “Your uncle was the one who called me about it.”

I’m going to be sick.

He touches my shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

My face feels hot from my hairline down to my neck, and I find it hard to look at him. “That’s great.”

“Yeah? Because I was hoping we could talk.”

My tight-lipped smile masks my grimace. “About what?”

“Us.”

Can one word trigger a tsunami in your stomach? The us tumbles into the dark pit, burning in the acidity.

“Sage!” To my relief, it’s my brother Sean, like the little angel he is. “I’ve been looking all over for you. The new vice principal wants to meet you.” He nods over to where the teachers are gathered by the snack table. The save is much needed, and judging from the look of urgency on Sean’s face, he knows it. He doesn’t bother acknowledging my ex-boyfriend, but that doesn’t stop Owen from moving forward to greet him.

“Shit, you’re getting tall, kid.”

Sean cuts him a dangerous look, and my gaze bounces between the two of them. Sean has no idea why we broke up, but he does know I couldn’t stand Owen by the end of our relationship. “If you’re trying to get back with my sister, you have a few hockey players to go through first.”

Owen chuckles. “I’m sure I do. But I think it might be worth it.” His longing gaze freaks me out.

Sean pushes between us. “She’s dating someone.”

My head whips to him so fast it stings on the side of my neck. What the hell?

“Ever heard of Eli Westbrook?”

Oh, hell no.

Did I call him an angel? I meant the devil.

Owen harrumphs. “Yeah, right.” But when my complacent gaze meets his, he balks. “He’s serious?”

I don’t say anything because frankly, I can’t. My mind is planning ways I can get back at Sean for this. But a smaller, pettier part of me is basking in the way Owen’s face is turning an ugly shade of red.

“I have to go,” I mutter, pulling a smug Sean with me. I move toward an empty area where parents aren’t around to hear me yell at this reckless fifteen-year-old.

“Do you need medical attention?”

His smile seeps from his lips. “No?”

“Because you have to be having a stroke to tell my ex that I’m dating a professional hockey player!”

“Oh … that.”

“Yes, that. What the hell, Sean?”

He sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “But you are.”

“Who told you that?”

“I saw it on TMZ.”

I sigh loudly, wanting to pull my hair out. “What have I told you about gossip?”

“That it’s what people who have nothing going for them do to feel better about their boring lives?”

“Exactly, so why are you looking at that stuff?” I ask. “And how? You have restricted internet access.”

He shrugs. “Loopholes.”

Crossing my arms, I give my most parental stare, and he shrinks under it.

“I’m sorry, okay! He was staring at you all weird, and you looked uncomfortable.” He sighs. “Besides, it wasn’t a lie. I saw the photo.”

Who knew a charity auction could complicate my life to this extent? Or that being rejected by a hockey player could backfire so terribly? “It was one date for a charity event. I doubt we’ll ever talk again.”

“Well, I don’t even know Eli personally, and I like him better than that Douchetron 5000.”

My serious demeanor cracks when I erupt into laughter. Parents stare, but we don’t acknowledge them.

“Come on, take me to your vice principal.”

He walks me to the snack table, and I wear my best responsible guardian face.

“Ms. Beaumont, I’ve heard lots about you,” the vice principal says.

“Good things, I hope.” When he gives me a sympathetic nod, I assume he’s been privy to the information about our family. “If you’re reading Sean’s file, I can explain the fights and behavioral issues—”

“The past is the past. I want to move forward as I transition into this role. We have not had any issues with Sean. He’s a smart and talented young man, and I suppose we have you to thank for that.”

His words melt my anxiety and prevent my overcompensating word vomit. “It’s all him. He’s a good kid.”

Sean looks pleased with the praise, and I chuckle when he grins. The vice principal informs me about the changes in curriculum since he’s taking over, and I focus on the words rather than the shadow of a dozen gazes sticking to my back. I feel a claustrophobic tightness in my lungs, and when I look at Sean, he’s glaring at them. One of the moms stares so vigilantly you’d think we were going to rob the place of their vegan hot dogs.

“Wanna get out of here?” I ask Sean as soon as the vice principal excuses himself to greet another parent. There’s a flush of relief on his face, and I’m going to spend money on an Uber I can’t afford, just to hang out with him for a few more hours. Somewhere that doesn’t have him second-guessing himself.

“Are you suggesting we sneak out?”

“It’s called an Irish goodbye. Besides, if they have a problem, they can take it up with your guardian.”

“You are my guardian.”

“Exactly.” I shrug as if I’m being spontaneous, but I’m already eyeing the sign-out board by the exit. I’m responsible for him, and I’d rather not make the school wonder where he took off to.

When I drape an arm over his shoulder, I realize that at fifteen he’s already taller than me. Pretty soon, I’ll start looking even less like a respectable adult and more like his little sister.

Sean beams and tells me a story about something that is definitely against school rules. But I make sure not to treat him like a kid, because I want him to know we can still be siblings, even if I have to fill the parental role.

“So, tell me about this date,” he says as soon as we’re inside the Uber. I’m transported back to that night, and the reminder puts a smile on my face. Sean’s teasing expression is replaced with one of pure shock. Curiosity lights his eyes, so I tell him about my date.

Well, most of it.