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“What did you find?” Kiley asked.
I pushed the picture toward her until she put down the box of cards to take it. “Is this how I look to you?”
She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Um, this seems like a trick question. You’re maybe a few years older and look a little more mature, but yes. This is definitely you, sweetie.”
My eyes were wide, my heart racing wildly. “But I look like this to you? I mean, I almost look hot here.”
Kiley’s face lit up. “You’re incredibly attractive.”
I pressed more than I should. “But you think I look this good? As good as I look in this photo?”
She nodded. “You’re a knockout. I wish I had some of your curves, honestly. You look so healthy, so voluptuous. Some of the other girls have said so, too.”
I almost laughed. “Well, hell! I have to get this. This is a sign.”
Kiley squeezed my arm, handing me the picture. “You’re going to have to start this time, you know that? But soon it won’t matter who started because you’ll both get lost in the moment.” She looked nostalgic. “There’s never another first time. Make it just the way you want it to be, but remember how beautiful the imperfections can be. It’s your story. Perfect for you. The rest of the world doesn’t matter.”
I blinked. “You believe that?”
Her eyes looked a little teary. “Yes, sweetie. I do.”
After talking to the guy at the counter about framing the pictures, he had everything to finish the project while we went for coffee at the coffee shop next door.
Just after we settled at our little bistro table, my phone chimed. “Oh, shit!”
I looked up feeling stunned. “It’s Regina. There are already over 14 million views of my article.”
She nodded eagerly. “And?”
I clicked on the article and scrolled through the comments. “Public opinion seems to be on Molly’s side. So far, Coach Mulaney is saying ‘no comment’ to anyone who asks.”
20
RANSOM
It was Christmas Eve and after forfeiting two games, Coach knew we were serious. And he was fucking pissed.
He frantically paced in the locker room in front of us twenty minutes before the game. “I fucking own you, gentlemen! Get your gear on and get on the fucking ice!”
But no one moved an inch. We sat there unwavering wearing jeans and our team sweatshirts. We stood against him united.
After breaking a few clipboards, Coach Mulaney stormed away tearing his hand through his hair.
When the forfeit was entered, we divided up and went to the reporters to tell them why.
“Fire away, Pete,” I prompted. “I got plenty to say today.”
Pete’s beady eyes glistened under the fluorescent lights with excitement. “Are you guys ever skating again?”
Pete held his recorder to my mouth making sure he got every word. When I told him we were in this for the long haul, waiting for the coaching staff to meet Molly’s demands, he got that reporter look. “You’re not serious.”
I crossed my arms and stood with a wide stance. “We’ve already forfeited twice. It’ll just keep happening until they bring Molly on with a voice equivalent to a coach so they can’t dismiss her again. She’s vital to the success of our team. We won’t skate without her.”
“That’s a pretty dangerous line you’ve drawn in the sand,” he warned.
I pressed my lips together. “That’s how much it means to us.”
Pete glanced up at me his eyes still wide. “You realize this could end your career.”
