Unsteady

by Peyton Corinne

“All right, hotshot, let’s make a deal.” No deal needed—if she keeps looking at me like this, I’ll do anything she says.

Any other questions?” Thousands. Like Why are you so angry? Why do you skate like you’re on fire? Who is so bad that you listed them as DO NOT ANSWER in your phone? Are you safe? Are you okay?

She stops there, but the unspoken words are just as loud. The look in her eyes says I wanted to help, and this is all I have and I see you.

I wonder if I could convince her to She’s the Man herself onto the men’s hockey team so I never have to be on the ice without her.

And without thinking, I drop a kiss to her forehead and pick up my gear bag, turning to leave the room before I can consider how ridiculous that move might have been.

“For the record,” I say, looking out along the lake, across all the life around us. “I am offering.” She’s silent. Smiling and shaking her head, she avoids every ounce of the eye contact I’m directing toward her. But I can’t bring myself to regret it.

A wave of frustration rolls through me, as if I have some automatic claim on her, like a fucking third grader. I licked her so she’s mine.

The girl can read chapter-long filthy sex scenes without a flinch, but tell her a boy thinks she’s pretty and she turns into a tomato.

“I think I’m in love with her.” I hear Rhys tell Bennett, but his voice doesn’t lower even a notch. “And she won’t let me in.”

“And tell your little friend up there to watch her fucking back. I don’t need unbruised knuckles to skate.”

“You don’t need to say anything right now, okay? I can love you enough for the both of us.”

He is beautiful. In his easy love for my brothers, his support of everything I do. His gentleness with my heart, but stubbornness against my anger. He cut through the vines of my fury and self-hatred like it was the only thing he was meant for. It’s taken me this long, but I know who he is now. Rhys Koteskiy