Page 32 of Desperate Pucker
I roll my eyes.
“Keep your glide leg straight!”
I finally do what she tells me. When I finish the drill and turn around, she’s glaring at me.
“Wanna tell me why you rolled your eyes at me?” she asks.
“I don’t remember doing that,” I lie.
She tilts her head at me. “I saw you do it a minute ago.”
“I have crappy short-term memory.”
For a long moment, she just looks at me. “Are you kidding?”
I stare at her, still confused as to why she’s so mad at me.
“Why are you like this?” I finally say.
She leans back, like she’s offended. “Like what?”
“Why are you so pissed off?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are. You were pissed from the second I walked in here. I just wish I knew what I did.”
Her cheeks are pink. She swallows, then blinks. “I’m not pissed off at you.”
“Yes, you are. You’re on my ass like back pockets.”
Her brow furrows in confusion. “Like what?”
“You’ve never heard that before?”
She shakes her head.
I exhale sharply. “Never mind,” I mutter as I skate over, grab my water bottle from the edge of the rink, and take a long drink.
When I turn back around to her, she’s standing there staring at me.
I shrug at her. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Are you gonna tell me what’s upsetting you so we can get it out of the way? I don’t wanna train with you if you’re just gonna take your bad mood out on me.”
She glares at me. “No. I don’t want to tell you.”
“Fine.” I grab my water bottle. “Figure your shit out, Maddy, before our next lesson together.”
I head off the ice toward the locker rooms to get cleaned up.
“Sweetie! You made it!”
I sit down next to my mom at my little brother Nick’s hockey game. I give her a quick hug.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say.
