Chapter 6 Chapter 6
Mika
I watched her stare at her phone long after the call ended.
She was not looking at the screen anymore. I could tell that she was living through it, trying to find the right way to answer to what she had in mind.
I saw that expression before players after career ending injuries or parents after bad news. It was the expression of someone trying to convince themselves that they were stronger than the pain in their chest.
Imani Cole was trying very hard not to fall apart. Somehow that made me admire her more.
She straightened her shoulders, inhaled, and slipped the phone into her pocket. She thought she had herself under control. I could tell that she was still not under that control, that she still had a lot that she was thinking about. Her eyes were still glossy; the muscles in her jaw kept tightening. She hadn't stopped clenching her fists since she hung up.
God. Gideon. You idiot.
I understood why he was doing this. I hated watching her pay the price. Because I hated that I couldn't even tell her what I knew.
“You don't have to pretend with me.” I said, stepping towards her, my steps slow.
The words left my mouth before I could stop them. She looked up.
“What? I'm sorry, I don't understand.”
“You don't have to pretend you're okay.” I said gently. “I can tell that you are not, and I can tell that you're thinking about so much.”
“I'm not pretending. You don't need to worry about that.” She said, looking away from me.
“Then why are you smiling?”
Confusion crossed her face.
“I'm not smiling.”
“Exactly.” I smiled softly. “You usually have some sarcastic comeback ready for me. If you had nothing on your mind and the feeling helps, you would be smiling. I know you enough to know that by now.”
She blinked.
“I…”
“You've been quiet for almost two minutes.” I couldn't help the tease. “That's got to be a record. Especially given the properties that stand at a blank screen for the past few minutes.”
A tiny laugh escaped her before she caught herself.
“I hate you. And I hate that you're trying to understand me very well.”
“No, you don't.” I teased.
“I strongly dislike you.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I will thank you for asking. You don't need to worry about me. My attitude will return shortly, you don't need to worry.”
“I was starting to worry.” I said, shrugging, knowing not to press on her.
She shook her head, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. It wasn't much, but it was enough. It told me that at least, no matter how painful it was, she was willing to stand strong.
People always thought comfort meant finding the perfect words. It didn't. Sometimes it was simply giving someone a reason to forget they were hurting, even if only for a minute.
“I'm sorry.”
She frowned.
“For what?”
“For teasing you. I figured you needed one normal conversation today.” I said, putting my hands inside my pockets.
She looked away. “I've had enough serious talks to last a lifetime. You know, sometimes it just makes it a little more difficult.”
“I thought so.” A breeze drifted through campus, carrying the faint scent of freshcut grass and melting ice from the arena. Students passed without paying much attention. For the first time all day, it almost felt peaceful.
“I really thought he'd tell me,” she said, barely above a whisper. “He called. I thought... everything would finally make sense. I thought that he would explain what was going on and that I would understand and it would just be easier. But it seems to me that I was wrong.”
“I understand.” I said gently.
“No, you don't.” She laughed quietly. “You and Gideon keep saying the same thing. I can't tell you. I know. I understand. But nobody actually explains anything. No one is willing to tell me what's going on and I'm just left in the dark.”
Her frustration was justified. Unfortunately, so was Gideon's silence.
“I wish I could make it easier for you. And I'm sorry for that.”
She walked out her eyes and looked away from me as she tried to hide her tears.
“I'm sorry.”
“For crying?” I asked.
“Because...” She shrugged. “I hate crying. It makes me feel weak.”
I almost laughed.
“Weak?”
She nodded. “My dad always said hockey players keep moving. They don't stop. They push through. They don't cry because it makes them feel weaker.”
“Elias Cole also taught you to skate before sunrise.” I said, knowing that she had worked hard for all of it.
Her eyes widened.
“You know about that?”
“Gideon told me once. He said your dad believed the best ice belonged to people willing to wake up before everyone else.” A small smile appeared on her face, as if the memory alone was enough to brighten her day.
“Dad used to bring hot chocolate.” She looked somewhere far away. “Gideon and I would complain about the cold every single morning. But we'd still race each other. And your dad?” Her smile trembled. “He always let us think we were winning. Even though he was faster.”
I smiled back. “He sounds like a good man. You have a lot of good memories with him, it seems.”
“He was.” She sat, wrapping her arm around herself.
An idea crossed my mind, simple, maybe stupid, maybe exactly what she needed.
“Imani.”
“Hm?” She hummed in response, raising an eyebrow.
“Want to go skating?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. I did not even know why I chose to suggest it, but after I did, it seemed like a good idea because the brightness that just appeared in her eyes was worth it.
She blinked.
“What?”
“Skating.” I pointed toward the practice rink. “The practice rink. It's empty for another hour. No cameras. No reporters. No teammates. No fellowship. No Gideon. No Lakehurst. No Crestmont.”
She studied me carefully.
“Just... ice? You know, with no pucks and no rings, nothing.”
“Yes, we can just skate. You know, just enjoy the day. No drills, coaches, yelling or pressure. Just a few moments of peace with us skating. You know, free skating…”
“I haven't done that in years.” She said, her voice dropping to above a whisper, as if the memory alone felt like something serene, too irreal for her to actually believe in.
“Well, there's no better time to start than now, it seems.” I said calmly. “So do you want to join me?”
