Page 13 of Skate the Line

Her little sigh makes my lips twitch. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you after school. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Principal Kelley comes back onto the phone, and I pinch the bridge of my nose, knowing she’s judging the hell out of me.

“Thank you, Mr. Volkova,” she says. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, but it seems she really only responds to you.”

Ellie has trust issues, just like me.

“It’s not a problem. I apologize that this behavior is occurring.”

I’m doing the best I can.

“Ellie speaking Russian isn’t troublesome behavior. It’s just inconvenient. She isn’t a bad kid.”

“I know she isn’t,” I say as monotoned as it gets. “We will work on her attention-seeking behavior.”

Part of me wants to reprimand the principaland her teacher for not stimulating her enough in class to keep her occupied, but I know it isn’t the real problem.

After getting off the phone with the principal, I down the rest of my coffee and quickly type a text to Jillian.

Me: I’ll be at Chicago Bakes in thirty. Tell Ms. Edwards that if she wants a well-paying job, to meet me there. I won’t wait if she is late.

Tell her to keep her legs closed too.

Seven

SUNNY

“Thirty minutes?!”I huff.

I instantly panic, which is almost as ridiculous as expecting me to be punctual when I have a thirty-minute warning before walking into an interview with a potentially very intimidating man.

Jillian is distracted. She’s hardly listening to me on the phone. “Just throw on some lip gloss and head out the door. You’re probably more likely to get the job if you show up in sweats and messy hair versus your typical cutesy self.”

I quickly splash some water on my face and run my fingers through my hair. “I’m not cutesy!”

“You’re a ball of sunshine, babe. You are cutesy. Get going. I just sent the address. Oh, and he said not to be late.”

Jillian hangs up the phone, and I give myself one more look in the mirror before hoping for the best.

My long brown hair is thrown up with a claw clip. I know some of the strands will fall out by the time I make it to the coffee shop. I have on my cream-colored sweater that falls off my shoulder a little from being stretched out, but there’s not much Ican do about that, considering all my clothes are piled up in the corner of the Airbnb, needing to be washed. I wish I had jeans that weren’t torn in the knees, but at least they’re sort of stylish and not too tight.

The cool Chicago air coats my face as I rush down the street with my crossbody in tow. I follow the directions on my phone, ignoring the bustling of the city, and stand in front of a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that has the most decadent smell floating out from the open door.

My mouth waters.

I’m immediately drawn to the counter beside the glass bakery section with the prettiest ceramic cake stands displaying various breakfast pastries.

“Hi! Can I help you?”

I stand straight and swing my gaze to the young woman behind the counter. “Hi! Um…” I glance at the prices and hesitate.Chicago is pricey.“Can I just have a coffee with a little bit of cream and sugar?”

I’ll feel like a loiter if I don’t order anything and just sit down at a table.

“Sure.”

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