My Fake Boyfriend on Ice

Mia's POV

"You're going to lose the rink, Dean. What are you going to do about it?!"

I stopped in the hallway, my hand raised to knock on Dad's office door. Coach Jenna never raised her voice. Not once in my entire life had I heard her raise her voice. But right now, she sounded like she was holding back tears and so much pain.

"I'll figure it out." My dad's voice was tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.

"You've been saying that for eight months."

"Jenna, please."

"The bank called again. I know because they called me too." A pause. "This rink belonged to Maggie. It's all your girls have left of her. She invested all she had to have a place to train as well as a business."

The sound of my mother's name hit me in the chest. I pressed my back against the wall.

"I know what it is," Dad said quietly.

"Then you know what has to happen." Coach Jenna's voice dropped lower. "Mia has to compete this season."

My feet stopped moving.

"She's not ready," Dad said.

"She's been ready for over a year. She's just scared."

"She's seventeen. She lost her mother and her partner at the same time. She's allowed to be scared."

"Maggie skated six weeks after her own mother died." There was a long pause. "She would not want Mia missing out on the best years of her career and her life because of fear."

I pushed off the wall and walked to the kitchen before anyone could catch me there.

Two years. It had been two years since I packed up my skates. Two years since my mom died on a Tuesday in November, and the world split into before and after.

Coach Jenna appeared in the kitchen doorway a few minutes later and looked at me for a long moment. She had coached my mother. Then she coached me and my partner Luca. Then there was nothing left to coach, except my sister Jade.

"How long were you standing there?" she asked.

"Long enough."

She sat across from me. "The Nationals qualifier is in fourteen weeks. The rink needs that prize money and the publicity for more customers to come in. Sponsors won't come near your father's business unless they see something worth investing in."

"So the solution is me."

"The solution is you and a partner."

"I don't have a partner." The words came out fast. "Luca skates with Portia Vale now. You know that."

"I know." She folded her hands on the table. "Which is why I found you someone else. His name is Zack Mercer. He transferred from Vancouver three weeks ago. One of the most talented ice dancers I've seen in a decade."

"Then why is he available?"

She was quiet for a beat too long.

"Jenna."

"He has a reputation. The difficult kind." She met my eyes. "He burned through two coaches and three partners. He does things his own way."

"Fantastic." I stood up. "You want me to come back after two years, skate with a stranger no one else wants, and qualify for Nationals in fourteen weeks."

"Yes."

"That's insane."

"Probably." She stood too. "But you knew how to do insane things on ice before you knew how to read." She walked toward the door. "Your mother trusted me. I'm asking you to do the same."

She left the kitchen and I sat back down.

Jade came in a few minutes later, still in her skating gear. My older sister was built like our mom. She had really long legs and perfect posture. But we didn't get along as much. She opened the fridge, looked at me, and said, "You talked to Coach Jenna."

"How did you know?"

"You have that face." She leaned against the counter. "The one that means something is happening and you don't want it to."

"She wants me to come back."

"I know." Jade's voice was quiet. "Are you going to?"

"You don't know what she's asking."

"I know exactly what she's asking." Jade put down her water bottle. "The difference between you and me, Mia, is that I fight for what I want every single day. But you don't have the balls to do that. Not since—"

"Since Mom died," I said. "You can say it."

She looked at me for a moment. Then she walked down the hall without another word.

Dad came in an hour later and found me still at the table. He sat across from me with a sad look on his face.

"The bank gave us until March," he said. "If we can't show investors the Cartelli name still means something, "

"We lose the rink."

He nodded once.

I looked at the sketchbook I left open on the table. I had been drawing competition dresses again. That was my coping mechanism.

"If I do this," I said slowly, "I need you to stay out of it. No checking in with Coach Jenna. No showing up at every practice."

"Mia, "

"I mean it, Dad."

He looked at me for a long time. His eyes went wet and he blinked it away.

"Okay," he said.

I went upstairs and pulled a box from under my bed. I opened it and looked at the skates I last wore two years ago and relieved some memories. I sat holding one skate in both hands and thought about Luca. The way we used to warm up together, like breathing. The way he looked at me across the ice like I was the only other person in the building.

But he had Portia now. He had abandoned me when I needed him the most and moved on.

I put the skate down and picked up my phone.

‘Fine. I'll meet him.’

Coach Jenna's reply came in under a minute.

‘Tomorrow. Seven a.m. Don't be late.’

I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. My heart was beating too fast for someone doing nothing at all.

Tomorrow, I was going back to the ice.

I just had no idea yet what else was waiting for me there.