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Sienna is beautiful and popular, just like Michael. The two of them together make sense, honestly. She fits into his world in a way I never could.

She’s part of his crowd, always at the same events and parties. And me? I’m always leaving early for training, always tired, always missing birthdays and school events.

Sienna is the kind of girl people expect to see next to him. I’m the kind of girl who watches from the sidelines.

It’s just…only a few moments ago, he was texting me as if nothing had changed. He knows I’m at Sienna’s, yet he chose not to say anything to me. He chose not to be honest. I am his best friend…and he chose to keep this from me.

I’ve been waiting so long for him to catch up, for him to realize he likes me too. But tonight, I finally realized I’ve never even been on the roster.

I’m just a best friend.

Only ever a best friend.

CHAPTER EIGHT

hey, stranger

MICHAEL

Fifteen years old

The arena is mostly empty when I walk in, my bag slung over one shoulder. Stick in hand, I head toward the rink instead of the locker room. Practice doesn’t start for twenty minutes, which means I have time to check on Isla.

There’s no shouting, no pucks slamming against boards like there is when my team is on the ice. The only sounds are the scrape of her blades and the soft music floating through the empty space. Chin lifted, I strain to make out the song. When I do, a smile breaks over my face. It’s a melody from Howl’s Moving Castle. I shouldn’t be surprised she’s skating to it. Her love for anime and manga comes from her mom. Aunt Bella is obsessed with Studio Ghibli.

I pull up the hood of my sweatshirt and prop one shoulder against the plexiglass. The other night, my parents were talking about the junior circuit, about how Isla is going to qualify, and I couldn’t help but swell with pride. She’s so talented and hardworking. Sometimes, when I look at her, I think I lack ambition.

Dressed in black leggings and a black, long-sleeved shirt, her hair collected into a neat bun on top of her head, she picks up speed, arms tight to her chest, knees bent at the perfect angle. Then, she launches herself into the air. A Double Axel, clean and fast, and she lands the same way, no wobble, no hesitation.

Elena says something, but I’m too focused on Isla to catch it. In response, Isla nods and skates backward to the center of the ice. Arms in the air, she takes a few deep breaths. Then, she starts a sequence. I’ve spent so many hours on the ice with her and listening to her talk about her practice and routines, so, right away, I know she’s going for a triple toe loop. She’s still working on it, but she gets better with each try.

She goes for it but misses the landing and falls, her knees hitting the ice with a dull thud. I suck in a breath, stepping forward on instinct. Before I can make it to the cutout onto the rink, she’s up and skating again.

It’s no surprise. That is Isla at her core. She falls, she gets up, she skates, she jumps, she falls again. It’s a circle, and she never gives up.

A strand of hair slips from her bun as she lands her second attempt perfectly. She pushes it back impatiently before diving into a layback spin. Body arched, she extends one arm, curving the other over her chest.

I’m mesmerized. All I see is her. All I hear is the scraping of her blades over the ice.

She used to joke that I look like I own the place when I’m on the ice, but truthfully, she’s the one who belongs here, and she’s the one owning the ice. It’s hers. Always.

My stomach flutters like it always does when she’s around. Damn, she’s beautiful. Not just in the pretty-girl-at-school way. She’s the kind of beautiful that makes me forget what I’m doing.

Isla is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, and I don’t think that’s ever going to change.

Elena claps, calling, “Well done, Solnyshko.”

Isla smiles, her face lighting up, her eyes glimmering.

It’s like a shot to the heart. I miss her smile. She’s been distant all week. She’s always been busy, we both have, but it feels like she no longer has any time for me at all.

I shift my stick from one hand to the other, trying to shake off the sinking sensation in my gut. This guilt thing is playing on my nerves. The kiss with Sienna wasn’t a big deal. It was a party, a stupid dare from Ash, who absolutely knew who she’d pick when he gave her the dare. It meant nothing to me. Less than nothing.

All our friends cheered and clapped, acting like it was the highlight of the night. But while Sienna’s hot, I felt nothing for her.

I didn’t want anyone to know it was my first kiss ever, so I didn’t say no and acted nonchalant, but I didn’t actually want to kiss her. At the last second, I turned my head a little, just enough for her lips to land on the corner of my mouth instead of straight on.

Even that tiny almost-kiss felt wrong.