Stealing for Keeps (Frost Lake High Book 1)
Stealing for Keeps: Chapter 39

Over the next week, I fall into a new normal. Immediately after school, I have cheer practice. We meet at the school rink, and while the hockey teams are using the ice, we work in the lobby area, rehearsing cheers and coming up with ideas for new ones. As soon as the boys’ team is done and heads to the training room, we go out on the ice. It’s my favorite part.

The team has been so nice and welcoming. I wasn’t sure what to expect, especially of Jenn, but if she’s harboring any bad feelings toward me, I can’t tell.

And it’s fun doing things on skates as a team. Aside from practices and just goofing around, I skated alone most of the time before my injury. I thought it helped my focus, and maybe it did, but I’m enjoying this aspect of it the most and getting to know my new teammates. Some of them have figure skating or hockey backgrounds, but they’ve found a place on this squad that lets them just have fun. I feel really grateful.

Most nights, I go straight from the school rink to the club rink and skate for a little while longer. If I still don’t feel like going home, I sit at the little café and watch the other skaters practice difficult jumps and combinations while I do homework.

Sometimes when I see that look of pure ecstasy on someone’s face after landing a new skill, it still feels like someone ripped my dreams out from under me, but it’s getting easier. I don’t want to run from it anymore. I want to heal and figure out how to move forward. I think it’s working, or I’m busy enough that those moments don’t consume me like they did before.

What does consume me is Austin. Everything reminds me of him. Something he said or did, something I want to share with him. We’re on talking terms, but it’s not the same. We talk about our art project, or I ask about soccer and he asks about the cheer practices, but everything in between—all the important stuff—has become off-limits.

I saw him and Vaughn talking in the halls today. They were laughing and joking around, two things Vaughn reserves only for people he’s really close with. They’ve become real friends, and I’m not sure that would have happened if we were still together.

When I get home, Mom is in the kitchen throwing away takeout containers and putting dinner plates in the dishwasher.

“You missed dinner,” she says, then eyes the skate bag in my hand. “Were you at the rink?”

“Yes,” I say, dropping it to the ground.

“You’re skating again?” She stops what she’s doing to stare at me in surprise.

“Sort of. I joined the hockey cheer squad.”

I brace myself for her reply. I’ve avoided her for the past week because I knew this was coming.

“Why?” Her eyes widen, and her voice rises in shrillness and volume.

“Because I was bored of sitting around and watching all my friends have things they do and love and because I still love to skate.”

“I understand wanting to skate again in your free time, but you should be focusing on school. You have an A-minus in Chemistry and a B-plus in Algebra II. Those grades will not cut it.”

“I’m not even sure I want to go to college yet. And if I do, I want to go somewhere with a good art program.”

She holds up a hand like she physically cannot stand to hear me say more. “Don’t make decisions now that will impact your entire future.”

“Fine, but I’m not going to quit the cheer team.”

“There has to be some other activity. Anything would be better.” She paces, hands going to her temples. “Ten years of figure skating with the best coaches in the state and now you’re skating with a group of girls who probably can’t land a single axel.”

I have no idea if any of them can, and I don’t care. We’re not trying to win a figure skating trophy.

I will never win one again. And that’s okay. It has to be. Sitting around and wishing it were different won’t do any good. I want laughter and excitement and to live my life instead of mourning the past or worrying about the future. Things change in an instant. The plans I made two years ago were shattered, but I can make new ones.

“Maybe we can word your admission letters to sell the hockey cheer team as an act of school spirit and generosity.” She sighs, then mutters under her breath, “It certainly feels like charity.”

“Absolutely not. I want to be a part of the team. I’m having fun. More fun than I had the last few years competing.” Which is true. I loved skating, but the schedule was tough. There wasn’t a lot of time for fun.

She stares at me, lines of exasperation written on her face. Her phone rings on the counter behind us. She glances over at it but doesn’t move before saying, “We’re not done here, but I have to take this.”

“It’s fine. There’s nothing else to say.” I pick up my bag. “I’m doing it. I already committed to the team.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” she says, already bringing the phone up to her ear.

* * *

I don’t sleep well. Mom didn’t try to talk to me again last night. She was on the phone on and off with clients. She has a three-million-dollar listing that she’s been obsessing about, and for once, I was happy to be invisible. But her response, though expected, still left me in a funk.

In art class, we have the entire hour to work on our show.

Everything is done, and we’re deciding how we want to display them. Eventually, we head out in the hallways to hang up our flyers. The show is next Tuesday night. The whole class will set up in the gym, and parents and students can walk around and view all our art. I’ve caught glimpses of the other groups artwork and everything looks amazing.

Austin is taping a flyer on the door going out to the breezeway.

“More tape?” he asks, eyeing me carefully with a look on his face I can’t quite decipher.

I tear off another strip and hand it to him. “What?”

“I don’t know. You look…off or something. Is everything okay?” He grins. “A cheerleading emergency?”

Despite the weird mood I’ve been in all day, I laugh. “No. Cheerleading is great.”

He finishes taping the flyer and smiles at me, then we slowly walk through the hall to replace another good spot to hang up our last show announcement.

“How’s everything with you?” I ask him. “Ready for the big game tomorrow?”

He blows out a breath and plays it off with his smile still intact, but I can see the flash of worry that crosses his face. “It’s gonna be tough, but the whole team is looking for redemption.”

Redemption because he had to sit out the last time they met. I know that wasn’t my fault, but I still feel bad about it. He wants to win so badly.

“Are you coming?” he asks, and I think there’s a hint of hopefulness in the question.

“Of course. Me, Lacey, Andie, both cheer squads.”

“Are you bringing your pom-poms?” That glint of amusement is back in his eyes.

“No,” I say, trying not to laugh.

“Too bad.”

We head back to class shortly after, then the bell rings, and we go our separate ways again. That feeling of missing him so much it hurts creeps back in. I forgot how good it feels to have Austin’s support. Even when he’s teasing me, I can feel how much he cares about me.

I’m still thinking about it when I open my locker after my last class. Austin’s sketchbook catches my eye, and for a moment, I think maybe he left it in here weeks ago or I accidentally picked it up in class, but for some reason, I flip to the last page just out of habit.

And there I am. Well, not me, but a sketch of me in skates with pom-poms. I’m smiling in the sketch, and I look happy and carefree. My heart flutters, and my smile is bigger than it’s been in days.

I like the way he sees me. The way he draws me. The way he always seems to know exactly what I need.

I glance around for him, but he must have dropped this in my locker before he went to practice.

I grab a pencil and quickly add to the sketch. My pulse is racing by the time I’m done. Blake is walking down the hall, and I hurry to him.

“Hey,” I say, falling into step beside him. I hold out the sketch pad. “Can you give this to Austin?”

He glances at it, then shrugs. “Sure.”

I hope it’s not too late to be exactly what he needs too.