Page 130 of Ice Darling
He winces. “Gordie always tells me that I hug too hard.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, no. It’s fine.” I look away and brush my hair behind my ear.
Goodness, I probably look crazy. Do I have helmet hair? Is my face red from the wind? I rake my fingers through the black strands, hoping that I don’t look too awful.
Renthrow seems just as uncomfortable as I feel. He scratches the back of his head. “Uh…”
The door of the stadium slams open, and Renthrow’s mom bursts out, bellowing. “The frog is gone! Everyone can come out now!”
She’s yelling loud enough to wake the dead.
Behind her, a sea of people pours from the stadium. The rude teacher who stole the last of the imported grapes is among them.
“What frog?” the teacher demands, looking at the steps outside the stadium. “I don’t see anything.”
“It was ahugething. Terrifying.” As she speaks, the older woman’s eyes connect with mine, and she leaks a tiny smile.
I stiffen as a bleak realization fills my head. Did Renthrow’s mom see us hugging in the parking lot?
How mortifying.
Thankfully, Gordie spots me and comes running over. “Delia!”
“Hey!” I spread my legs a little wider so I’m balanced when she makes contact. The little one comes flying at me and wraps her arms around my neck.
I…can’t…breathe.
So cutting off circulation is not just a Renthrow thing.
“Gah,” I squawk, and my tongue gurgles out of my mouth like a lizard.
“A little gentler, Gordie. She can’t breathe,” Renthrow scolds. As if he wasn’t cutting off my circulation ten seconds ago.
“Where were you?” Gordie demands, pouting as she falls back. “We were supposed to watch the game together.”
“I was riding and lost track of time,” I explain apologetically.
“Really?” Her attention skips to the bike, and her eyes glitter.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Renthrow says, positioning himself between his daughter and the motorcycle.
“Delia, what a wonderful surprise!” Renthrow’s mother waddles up to me. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Well, I?—”
“Perfect! You should join us for lunch. Renthrow’s taking us out of town to a new arcade that opened up an hour or so from here.”
My eyes dart to Renthrow nervously. “I mean, I?—”
“Yes, let’s go! Let’s go!” Gordie tugs me to her dad’s car. “Sit here!”
I chew on my bottom lip, debating the wisdom of spending the afternoon with Renthrow.
At that moment, the door on the opposite side of the car pops open, and the teacher grins at Gordie.
