Page 127 of Ice Darling
Gunner is right behind him. He cracks his knuckles. “Who said you can’t be motherly as a mechanic?”
I glare a hole into Watson’s face, daring him to stand down on that statement.
Watson raises both hands in surrender. “I just meant that thenewmechanic,” he stresses, “rides that scary bike and wears all black and gets all weird around kids. She doesn’t seem like the type to bake cookies and braid hair and do other girly stuff. Compare that to Miss Potts? She’s around kids twenty-four seven. She knows exactly what they need. If you’re just thinking about Gordie, it’s a clear choice.”
Gordie has already made her preferences clear, and it’s not Miss Potts for her either.
“It’s not just about Gordie, though,” Chance points out, taking his gym bag out of his locker. “What really matters is who Renthrow wants.”
The room goes silent, and the entire team turns to look questioningly at me.
“If you had to choose, who would you pick, Renthrow?”
I scowl at Theilan and reach for my Hello Kitty gym bag without answering.
“Come on. Don’t leave us in suspense,” Watson begs with a groan.
“He’d be crazy not to choose Miss Potts,” Theilan insists. “She’s a teacher, and she drives a car.”
Gunner tilts his head in question. “What does that have to do with it?”
“You can’t put a car seat on a bike.”
The team’s chatter fades in the background as I take out my phone and look for any messages from Cordelia.
There are no new messages.
Unease floats through my stomach. What if her not showing today had nothing to do with Brennon? What if she got into an accident on her bike? What if—right this minute—she’s at the bottom of a ravine, bleeding out or crying for help?
The fear that crowds my chest makes me feel like a noose is tightening around my neck.
Just then, a new message pops up.
Cordelia:Hey, Renthrow. Sorry I was late, but I saw the last piece of the game. It was fun. Tell Gordie I’ll sit with her next time.
I check the time stamp.
The game ended less than five minutes ago. It would take her two minutes to get to the exits, and if she stopped to send this text…
She could still be here.
“…So we all agree? We’re setting up Renthrow with Miss Potts?” Theilan is saying. “Renthrow, what do you think about?—”
I drop my stick, my helmet, and my gym bag and take off like a shot through the door. I don’t stop until I get outside. I see Cordelia nudging her kickstand with the back of her boot and preparing to ride off.
“Cordelia!” I yell to be heard over her rumbling bike. “Cordelia!”
She sets one leg on the ground, causing the bike to lean a little. However, she doesn’t turn to look at me.
I approach her bike while studying her. Something seems off, but I can’t put a finger on it. Maybe it’s the fact that she hasn’t said a word to me? Or that she still has her helmet visor covering her eyes?
I don’t know what it is. But every time I’ve gotten this gut feeling, it’s steered me right.
The first time I felt this way, it was when Gordie was an infant. Something told me to get up and check on her. I found her shivering in her crib, her lips blue, and I had to rush her to the hospital.
The instinct isn’t a sure thing. Sometimes, I get it, and sometimes, I don’t—like that day when Gordie had her first episode. I didn’t sense a thing.
However, I have a hunch that I shouldn’t let Cordelia ride away alone.
