Chapter 8

Jacoby nods. “You’ll be—”

“Fine,” Ryan says again. He’ll be fine.

After Jacoby leaves, more skaters take to the ice. They stick to small groups, teams of three or four with yellow helmet covers that stand out bright against the dark stadium. Each cover has a three digit number on it—the lowest is 152, it belongs to a girl whose hair hangs down her back in one long, blonde braid. She’s fairly quick, skates a tight circle around her giggling friends, glances over her shoulder at Ryan and then skates away. The other girls trail behind her, whispering together. Ryan’s certain they’re talking about him.

The lower stands start to fill up, mostly parents and what looks like an elementary school class trip, two teachers and a gaggle of knee-high munchkins laughing and shrieking as they throw popcorn at each other. Ryan looks around—is this a meet? Trials? He wonders if someone will come by and ask him for a ticket. He’s not paying to watch this.