Page 26 of My Last Dance

White hot anger coursed through my body.

That boy did not know who he was messing with.

I waited for my revenge until we crossed paths in the weight room. When we did, I just so happened to accidentally turn his treadmill to a sprint speed without him noticing. As soon as he stepped down, he flew off the back and crashed into Colt and they both went sprawling.

Through the rest of my workout, I could practically feel his glare on my cheek, telling me he fully knew who was responsible. I had to roll my lips together to keep from laughing.

He was an immature jerk who cared way too much about what his buddies thought of him, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop looking around the rink for his stupid mullet and dimples. Maybe it was just because he noticed me, even if it was for bad reasons. Maybe he was just the one person that I didn’t have to pretend to be perfect around. I mean, let’s face it, we already showed our worst selves to each other.

The problem was that the two of us were always the last to leave the rink, and each night, we sat at two different picnic tables in painfully awkward silence.

I checked my watch every two seconds, wondering why the hell Gwen was consistently so late to drive me home.

“This is stupid,” he finally said one day, throwing down his pencil. “I’m sorry, okay? I dumped the stupid blue icee on you, and—”

“Ah, so now you admit it?” I snapped.

“I didn’tmeanto! And you punched meandmessed with my treadmill!”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

His eyes bulged. “I could’ve been killed!”

“And you could’ve killed me with your clear tape prank.”

“Yeah, well, I’m scared of what you’ll do next.”

“Youshouldbe scared.” My eyes narrowed to slits.

He tugged at his hair and let out a frustrated growl. “Let’s just be done. We’re even. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to dump the icee on you that day, I swear.” He pressed his lips together.

While I didn’t necessarily want to forgive him, I knew it’d be in my best interest to do just that. Our little war was becoming too distracting, and I needed to focus on my skating. I blew out a breath. “Fine, yeah, whatever. I’m sorry, too,” I murmured, rolling my eyes.

His mouth twisted. “Truce?”

My eyes drifted to the two girls playing Dance Dance Revolution, then down to my phone. Where the hell was Gwen? I needed to tell my mom about this.

“Piper, truce?” he pushed.

“Sure, yeah, whatever.”

His eyes darted from my phone back to the Dance Dance Revolution game. “Do you…wanna play?”

My face immediately heated as I shook my head. “Don’t have any quarters.”

He smirked.

“What’s funny now?” I asked with a sigh, too exhausted after the long day of skating to feel frustration.

“Nothing it’s just…” He smirked and raked a hand through his hair. “Your name is up on buildings, isn’t it? But you don’t have any spare quarters?” He must’ve noticed my irritation because he dropped his neck back and groaned. “Sorry, I never say the right thing to you. I think it’s cool that your name is on buildings.”

My eyes dropped to the rubber floor, to his beat-up Nikes. “Mylastname,” I quietly corrected him. I should’ve said names, as in plural. My mother’s family owned the Wyndell hotel chain, my dad’s family owned the Hamilton hotel chain. In their war against each other, my parents took over every corner of the world. When my dad worked with Disney to open a new hotel, my mom started work with Universal. When the Hamilton company won a bid to remodel a historic hotel in Quebec, the Wyndell company bought the hotel made of ice located in Old Town.

“My parents work hard for all of it, but…” My eyes drifted to the concession stand where Teresa was closing down the shop.

“But?”

“Nothing, never mind,” I said tightly. I felt stupid for eventhinkingwhat I was about to say.

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