Page 21 of 50 First Skates

“But I want you to forget about the past few weeks. I know you won’t be able to forget me—not just because I’m so amazing, but because it’s a small town and you’ll still be working with my dad. I’m sure he’ll invite you over for dinner sometime, and I might even cook you lasagna. And I’m sure I’ll like your butt and your dimple every time I see them… But I won’t remember the time we’ve spent together. I won’t remember that you’re the one who taught me how to skate.

“Because I’m going to delete and erase and burn everything. I’m doing it because I love you. And because I know this will hurtyou more than it will hurt me, because I’m going to sleep soon. I love you. I’m sorry—I probably shouldn’t be saying this. You should delete this as soon as you finish watching it. I love you. Thank you. Bye.”

10

DEAN

“Oh, hell no.”

I’m in my truck before the video has ended.

I need to get to her house before she falls asleep. I can get there in ten minutes if I obey traffic laws. Five if I decide not to.

But I don’t need to show up at Coach Barrett’s house with a cop on my tail, so I’m going to have to trust that she’ll have enough adrenaline in her system to keep her from falling asleep this fast.

Ten minutes feels more like ten seconds but also a little like ten days.

I don’t even close the door to my truck when I jump out of it. I’m banging on the front door and ringing the doorbell—as calmly and rationally and respectfully as a person can bang on a door and repeatedly ring a doorbell in the middle of the night. “It’s me,” I say, trying not to yell. “It’s Dean. Please let me in so I can talk to Soleil before she falls asleep!”

Coach opens the door with a jerk. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

“She can’t go to sleep,” I say, running past him down the hall. “Don’t let her fall asleep!”

I get to her bedroom door, which is closed, and knock on it twice before opening it.

She isn’t in here.

“Dean?”

Turning around, I find her staring at me, wide-eyed. Her hair up in a messy bun, wearing pajamas, a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth.

“Thank fuck,” I say, so relieved, but my heart is still pounding in my chest. She remembers me.

“Hang on,” she says, her mouth full of toothbrush and toothpaste. She disappears for a minute. I hear water running in the bathroom next door, shelves pulled open and slammed shut. She comes back out.

I’m in the hallway. “So, you didn’t go to sleep?”

“I had to brush my teeth first.”

“Did you delete or erase or burn anything?”

“Not yet. I was about to. How did you get here so fast?”

I take her hand and lead her to the living room, where Coach is standing in the center of the room, arms crossed, feet flat on the ground, chewing gum intensely, the way he watches games from behind the bench. He knows I’m here to make a play; he doesn’t have to ask what’s going on.

“Sorry to barge in like this, Coach. She sent me a video telling me she’s ending this and deleting all records of me and her, for the sake ofmyhappiness.” After catching my breath, I continue. “I’m not letting you end this, Soleil. Not for that reason. Not for me. I know you’re being generous and kind-hearted, and I don’t want you to feel bad for trying. But I don’t only show up for you. I don’t only show up because something bad happened to you.

“I show up every morning because when I wake up, the thing I’m most excited about is seeing you,” I say. “Youpossibly not remembering me every morning for the rest of your life—that’s inconvenient for me, sure. Not as inconvenient as having amemory disorder, though. But we’re all being honest here now, right? We aren’t going back to pretending something baddidn’thappen. So let’s not pretend somethinggreatdidn’thappen either.”

Facing Coach, I don’t let go of Soleil’s hand. “Honestly, Coach? Would you trust or respect me more if you knew I wanted to be with your daughter and didn’t show up for her, no matter what? I show up for the people and things I care about. I didn’t let a hip injury keep me away from hockey—I found another way in.

“I will always find a way into Soleil.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I say, “Pretend I didn’t say that. I will always figure out how to make this work. For all of us. It’s why you hired me as your assistant coach,” I say to Coach, “and it’s why you keep finding your way back to me,” I say to Soleil. I turn back to Coach. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I want your daughter in my life as much as I want to coach the Comets,” I say. “Please don’t make me choose one or the other when we both know we all want each other to be happy and that the only thing that will make all of us happy is Soleil being happy.

“I think the skating is doing something. I see the progress she makes every single day, and I know it’s affecting her. She’s had dreams about me. Her brain remembers me on some level. It’s only a matter of time before she starts remembering more consciously,” I tell him. “I want to keep teaching her to skate, and I want to be around when her brain hasn’t forgotten what her body remembers.” I hold a finger up to Coach. “On the ice.On the ice. I’m talking about skating.”

Coach has been silent and still as he’s listening to me rant. I appreciate it. I can feel the warmth radiating from Soleil’s smile even when I’m looking over at him. “Please don’t ever try to end this in the name of making it easier for me, because I don’t want easy. I want Soleil.”

“I think I’m pretty easy when I’m with you, Dean Rafferty,” she says.