Stealing for Keeps (Frost Lake High Book 1)
Stealing for Keeps: Chapter 8

He drew me skating.

The backs of my eyes sting as I open my locker and grab my chemistry book for sixth period. The familiar chatter of my peers around me is all background noise, like I’m trapped inside a bubble and they’re all on the outside.

Someone bumps into me, knocking me out of my spiraling thoughts.

“Shit. Sorry, Claire,” Matt Doyle catches himself as I turn around, clutching my books to my chest. He points at Eddie with a smirk. “No shoving in the halls.”

Then he shoves him back playfully. It’s the usual chaos between passing periods, but today I feel like an outsider. I catch Vaughn’s gaze. His rowdy teammates are between us, but he only watches me. The slight furrowing of his brow feels invasive, like he sees more than I want him to.

Spinning around, I head for chemistry. I’m still carrying Austin’s drawing and I duck into a corner and pull it out so I can stare at it again.

I wasn’t lying when I told him it’s beautiful. He’s so talented.

I wonder if he has any idea just how badly I wish I were still this person. No, of course not. How could he? I hadn’t even meant to bring it up.

I have been able to mostly avoid talking about skating since my injury. Everyone who knows me well has given me space to deal with it without asking a lot of questions. And I have appreciated that, but I think it gave me a false sense of how well I’m dealing with it. Like if I didn’t say it out loud, I would be able to move on and heal my heart along with my foot.

But this drawing has tears welling in my eyes. I can almost feel myself in the very position he drew me. One leg raised behind me like I’ve just landed a jump. I miss that feeling of flying through the air and the sense of accomplishment after weeks or months of practicing and finally nailing a new skill.

“Claire.” Vaughn appears in front of me. The furrow of his brow is more pronounced.

I blink rapidly, and tears trek down my cheeks. Swiping them quickly away, I stand taller and shuffle the drawing into my chem book.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“Fine.” He’s the last person I want to talk to right now.

“You’re not fine.” He steps closer. “I haven’t seen you cry since you lost the junior grand prix freshman year.”

Those were tears of frustration. Is it twisted to think I’d be willing to lose a million times over if it meant I could compete again?

“It’s nothing. I was just having a moment.” I clear my throat and then inhale through my nose.

“I’d say that’s allowed. You’re going through a lot.”

I don’t like the way he continues to stare at me or the attention we’re starting to garner from others spotting us. I can almost see the spark of excitement in their gazes, like they think they’re seeing us reconcile.

“I need to get to class.”

“Don’t run away, Claire.” His fingers circle around my wrist gently. “Let me be here for you. Tell me what you need.”

“Now you want to be here for me?”

Vaughn’s expression shifts from sympathetic to guilty. “I’m sorry about this summer.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” I slip out of his grasp and push past him.

* * *

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted from holding in my emotions. I fling myself down on my bed and curl up on my side, hugging my pillow to my chest. Austin’s drawing is tucked away in my backpack, but I can see it vividly if I concentrate hard enough.

Maybe I should have let Vaughn be there for me, but I’m still so mad that his affection seems conditional. When it’s convenient for him, he wants to be there for me. But what about all the rest of the time? When I needed him most, he wasn’t there. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to move on from that.

I’m in slightly better spirits when Lacey comes over after cheer practice.

“What is happening in here?” she asks, looking around at the mess I’ve made. All my clothes are out of the closet and lying on the bed.

“Cleaning and organizing.” I pull out a pair of tennis shoes that are several years old; one shoe is missing the laces. Mom has been on me to do it for months, but I’ve finally reached peak boredom. “I got inspired by some closet organization videos.”

“Okay.” She drops her bag on the floor with a small laugh, then makes a spot for herself on the edge of my bed. “How was your day? I hate our schedules this year. Besides lunch, I barely see you.”

“Fine,” I say. The word is basically my default response at this point, but then I remember that this is Lacey. The one person I don’t have to pretend for. “Actually, it sucked.”

“What happened?” The fierce protectiveness in her eyes is the balm I need.

I stop my work in the closet and face her. “I was talking to Austin, and I mentioned that I used to skate. It’s the first time I’ve really talked about it in months. I thought I was…”

“Over it?” she asks, quirking one brow in disbelief.

“No,” I say quickly. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be over it, but I thought I had accepted it at least.”

“Claire…” Her voice trails off, and she smiles sadly. “I’m sorry.”

I can feel the sincerity of her words so strongly.

“Anyway, I was upset, and then I ran into Vaughn.”

The change in her expression is so swift, it pulls a laugh from me.

“He wanted to be there for me.” I scowl at the idea the same way I had earlier.

She snorts. “Too little too late, Collins.”

“Exactly. I don’t get what game he’s playing. He broke up with me because he didn’t have time for a relationship, and now he’s acting like he wants to pick up where we left off, like nothing has changed.”

“Maybe he just realized what a big mistake he made. You’re a catch, babe. I told you months ago that he would rue the day.”

“Don’t tell me that you think I should consider taking him back?” Is that even what he wants? Really? Or is it just guilt?

“Of course not, but if you do, then I’ll still be here.” She sounds mildly disgusted, but I appreciate her saying it anyway. “And there’s no shame in being upset and letting people be there for you.”

“I’m not getting back together with him.”

“I don’t just mean Vaughn. You have a tendency to keep things inside and pretend you’re okay. Everyone knows that this is hard on you. You don’t have to be so tough all the time.”

“I’m sharing with you.”

“What about Austin? Are you sharing with him?” She grins all too knowingly.

I toss a shoe at her, then get back to work, digging through the many sneakers and sandals buried at the back of my closet.

While I organize, I think about Austin. I’m not sure how I feel about him. On one hand, he seems like a good guy. It’s buried under layers of arrogance, but it’s there. On the other, am I really ready to date again? Especially someone so much like my ex?

“Hey, do you want to help me pick out fish next Monday after school?” Lacey asks from her spot on my bed. She’s started to sift through my clothes and put them in piles based on type.

“For what?”

“The Meet the Knights carnival. They’re for the fish bowl toss game. I have to pick up the fish from the store and take them to the field.”

“I have no idea where you replace the time to do all these things.”

“Me either, which is why I’m begging you. Please go with me?”

“Fine.” I have plenty of time in my schedule.

She squeals with delight. “You’re the best.”

When there’s only one item left in my closet, I sit down on the floor and bring my old skate bag into my lap. The familiar weight makes goose bumps climb up my arms. I tossed it in here the day after my surgery, where I wouldn’t have to see it and be reminded that I wouldn’t be picking it up and heading to the rink any time soon. As if it being out of sight was truly going to keep it off my mind.

Unzipping the bag, I peek inside, only catching a glimpse of one white skate before I decide I’m not ready to deal with them yet. I put the bag back where it was.

One step at a time.