"We're taking out Beavis and Butthead," she said. "We'd be up by at least three goals if it wasn't for those jockey jerks."

"No shit," I said. They were totally dominating play.

"If I can ever get the puck, I'm pretty sure I can smoke the redhead."

That was Kirsten. "Okay. I'll do what I can to draw her off. She's got a bad left knee," I told Dayna. "If you can catch her coming around on that side, she doesn't have a quick recovery."

"Yeah?" Dayna's eyes gleamed. "Cool." She crossed one ankle over a knee and cleared her skate blade. "You're a good player," she said. "You on a team?"

"No. I've been playing in rec league since I was like six. You're a great player. Where do you skate?"

"Andersen Rink, at 104th and Sheridan?"

I knew it. Nodded.

"You come here a lot?" Dayna eyed me over her stick.

Before I could answer, Seth skated up with two styrofoam cups of hot cider. "Here, babe." He handed one to me. Noticing Dayna, he offered her the other. What a guy.

"No, thanks," she said, smiling. "You go ahead."

The cider was steaming and spicy and I held it to my face to warm and drift up my nose. Dayna stood, stamped her skates on the ice, and sped off.

I wondered about her. No, I didn't. I knew.

In the second half Dayna bided her time. The hockey jocks not only wouldn't pass, they were hooking and stick checking all over the place. There's no checking in open hockey. Everyone knows that.

A crowd was gathering at the edge and someone called, "You guys about done? We wanna play."

Coop shouted, "One more minute!" He whizzed past me. We were still down a goal. In a blur Dayna bulleted out from behind a blue player and split a seam up the middle. She drove toward Coop's back and body-checked him so hard he went flying. Dayna stole the puck from him and sprinted up the side.

I zipped in behind her. Kirsten passed me by, heading for Dayna, but Dayna crisscrossed in front, almost tripping Kirsten. Dayna took the puck behind the net, going deep. Her eyes darted around until they found me.

I dropped into the slot in front of Seth. He was wary. Seth had great instincts and he knew my best moves. As Dayna drove to the neutral zone, she passed to me.

Seth crouched. I decked him and fired in a backhand. Seth dove for it, face first, but the puck slid under him and into the net.

Red team cheered like we'd won the Stanley Cup.

Dayna skated up to me for a high five. As I glided past Seth, still splayed on the ice, I heard him mutter, "Fuck." I bent, picked up the puck, and dropped it on his back. "I think you mean 'puck.'"

He grabbed my ankle and tried to pull me down, but I escaped. He scrabbled to his feet and chased me around the ice, pushing me into a snow bank at the opposite end. We rubbed snow into each other's faces, laughing and wrestling around. Seth pinned my arms and rolled over on top of me. Kissing me. Kept up the pressure until I was struggling to breathe. "Get off," I ordered.

"What?" he said, looking bewildered. He pushed to his knees. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." Yes. I scrambled to my feet. He always has to ruin it, I thought. We could never just have fun.

Coop skated up to us and said to Seth, "We're starting another game. Red team's one short. You or Holland in?"

Seth queried me. "Holl?"

"I'm done," I said, digging snow out of the collar of my parka. "You go on. I need to spend some time with Leah."

He brushed powder off the back of my head, then left.

I found Leah at the outdoor fireplace where she and Kirsten were warming their hands. Leah said, "Good game. I just saw the end where you scored."

Kirsten murmured, "We'd have won if it wasn't for that dyke."

I slowly turned to face Kirsten. "Excuse me?"

She met my eyes and curled a lip.

"If you mean Dayna, she's one hell of an athlete."

Kirsten snorted. "Yeah, they all are."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Hey." Leah put a hand on my arm. "It's getting cold. Let's go in Trevor said he'd save us a table in the snack bar."

"Speaking of Travor," I said, removing my stiff mittens. "People are starting to talk."

Kirsten's head shot up. "About what?"

"Guess."

Her eyes slit. She leaned her face into mine and said, "Why don't you tell me?"

Shit. I shouldn't have started this. She might as well know the truth, though. "They're saying you're a player."

Kirsten expelled a short breath. "Really." Her jaw clenched. "Well, whoever they are, they can go f**k themselves." She skated off toward the entrance.

Leah sighed. "Holland –"

"I know," My head lolled back. "Open oven, insert head."

Leah ran her skate blade and forth along the ice. "She thinks you judge her."

"I don't." Blood rushed to my face. Do I? Maybe I do. "I'm her friend, Leah. I thought she should know. I'm only trying to protect her." Right, Holland. You're so noble. You should alienate your friends with the truth more often. I let out a long, visible breath. "I'll call her tonight and apologise."

“Thank you,” Leah said. She hated when brush fires flared between Kirsten and me. Thank God she was always there to douse the flames. It made me wonder how Kirsten and I had stayed friends for so long. We’d known each other since eighth grade, when she and her mom moved here from Texas after her parents first split. Kirs was pretty messed up then. She really wanted to live with her dad, but he’d moved in with his girlfriend and having a kid around would put too much of a crimp in his style. He never called her; not even on her birthday. We got to talking and discovered we had the “fatherless” thing in common.

Kirsten was fun to be around. Wild and crazy, sort of reckless. Unlike me, Ms. Boring and Predictable.

Leah started for the entrance and I caught up. “Are you all right?” I nudged her shoulder with mine. “You seem a little distant, to quote Kirs.”

Leah smiled. “I’m fine.”

“Sure?”

She opened her mouth, then shut it. Gazing wistfully across the ice, she said, “I miss the old days.”

I frowned. “What old days?”

She looked at me. “When we were kids. Coming here. Skating for hours. Playing tag and keep-away. I’m going to miss all this.” Her arm extended to include more than the lake.

We dodged a bunch of rowdy boys who were dogging these girls ahead of us. Making them giggle and scream. I guess I knew what Leah meant. Life was easier when we were kids. It wasn’t so much about change and choice and moving on. We lived for the moment. Time was eternal.

I linked my arm with Leah’s. “Tell you what. I’ll buy us a banana split with extra whipped cream and two cherries on too. For old times’ sake.”

“In your dreams,” she said. “I’d have to diet for a week.”

***

I was just drifting off to sleep Sunday night when Seth called. My eyelids were lead weights after poring over the same page in Beowulf six hundred times. Not one word had registered. “Is Faith gone?” he asked.

“Yes.” I yawned. “But Neal’s here.”

“I don’t care,” Seth said. “I’m coming over.”

He hung up before I could protest. Not that I didn’t want to see him; but it was Sunday. A school night.

First thing he did after I trailed him downstairs to my room was unzip his jeans. “Jesus, Seth. You didn’t even ask.”

He paused with his jeans around his hips. “Don’t you want to?” he said.

I sighed and plopped on the bed. Scotching up against the headboard, I hugged my knees and answered, “It’s not that. I just…” I stalled.

“What?” Seth searched my face. “What, Holl?”

“Whenever we’re alone, this is all we do.”

He rezipped his jeans. Perching on the mattress beside me, he said, “We don’t get that much time alone, babe. Since you won’t do it in the car and we can’t be together when faith’s here. Now school nights are out.”

I got the message. “Remember how we used to talk? For like hours and hours, we’d just talk. We never talk anymore.”

“We talk every day,” he said. “I see you at lunch, and I call you almost every night. We’re together on the weekends as much as possible.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and dropped my head to my knees. Seth stretched out beside me, snaking an arm around my waist and drawing me close. “We can talk,” he said. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear. “I know I don’t say it enough. I love you, I love you, I love you. Is that what you want to hear?”

It wasn’t. I aready knew that. “When did we stop being friends?” I raised my head.

He pulled back a little. “We’re still friends. You the best friend I’ve ever had.” He studied me. “It’s different with girls, I know. But don’t you think of me as your friend?”

“Yeah, I do. Of course I do. It’s just…” Just what, Holland? Tell him.

Tell him how you want to go back to the way it used to be. Before the sex, the commitment. Oh, yeah. He’d be stoked about that.

Seth kissed my ear, then my neck, my lower neck. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t respond to him. What was wrong with me? He was great, wonderful, perfect. He was everything a girl could ever want.

Then why, long after he was gone, did I lie awake and ache inside for something more?

Chapter 8

The cold at first. The swelling of lungs. Then the force. Fighting it, straining against it. Harder, stronger. Glide. Kick. Breathe.

Faster and faster. Moving, moving.Away from it. Toward it. Get there.

My inner voice chanted, “Get there, get there, get there.”

Get where? I asked.

No answer came.

Concrete grazed my fingertips at the same time my head burst through the surface of the pool. My chest hurt. Every muscle in my body burned. How long had I been swimming? Too long at speed. My eyes stung. I closed them, hung over the edge until the dizziness evaporated. Then I hauled myself out of the pool and padded to the locker room for a hot shower.

“Holland, hi.”

I jumped. Usually I was alone at this time of day.

“If I had your self-discipline, I could look like your mother. But alas, my fat cells rebel against shrinkage.”

I smiled at Mrs. Lucas. “What are you doing here?” My voice sounded harsh, accusatory. The way I felt – intruded upon.

She didn’t notice, unfortunately. Slipping a sweatband over her head, she answered, “We started an early morning faculty shape-up program. Work those biceps.” She hefted imaginary weights.

I cursed her silently. My only private time. I really needed to be alone right now. To think. To not think. I grabbed a couple of towels from the laundry cart by the door and headed for the showers. Mrs. Lucas followed. “Did you get through all those catalog? Have you decided where to apply?”

“Not yet,” I told her, screeching on the hot water faucet. “I was swamped with homework all weekend.” Which was true. We were only into week two of the term and I was already struggling to keep up. Zero motivation didn’t help.

“Well, don’t wait too long. Most of those applications have to be postmarked by February fist.”

“I know,” I sniped. Calm yourself, Holland. God. “I’ll do it tonight.” I twisted my head and smiled at her. Wished her gone.

“Did you get your invitation?”

I didn’t answer; just plunged into the shower and zoned.

***

Cece was sitting on the floor in front of her locker, poring over an X-Men comic book. Her coffee cup was on the carpet next to her, the box of donuts opened to the world. “You’re going to get fat,” I said before spinning my combination lock out of control. Could I be more surly? I turned to apologize.

Cece hadn’t heard, or was ignoring me. I opened my locker and looked in the mirror. I had to stand on tiptoes to see her. She’d taken a bite of a chocolate donut and was waving it in the air, baiting me.

I smiled to myself. Not to myself. Leaving my locker wide open, I sauntered across the hall and examined the contents of the box. Most of the donuts were broken pieces or misshapen rejects. “These are the poorest excuse for donuts I’ve ever seen.” I squatted and selected a chunk – coconut frosted. “Whatever you paid, you got ripped off.”

She closed the comic book. “Since I didn’t pay anything, I’d say I got a deal.”

“Free donuts?” My eyebrows shot up. “Where?”

“Hott ’N Tott,” she said. “My uncle’s shop. Or as we fondly refer to it – and to him – Hot to Trot.”

I laughed.

She smiled. “I only get them for free because I work there.”

My thigh muscles were seizing up, straining on my haunches like this. Up or down? My knees decided. Curling cross-legged on the other side of the donut box, I asked, “Where is this place? Hot to Trot Donuts?”

She cricked a lip. “Over on Speer and Colfax. By Wash Central.”

I nodded. Still didn’t know where it was. Washington Central was like the netherworld, the other side of the city. The warning bell clanged overhead and I crammed the donut into my mouth. Scrambling to my feet, I darted across the hall.