Page 22 of 50 First Skates

Her father clears his throat.

“What do you say, Coach?” I ask.

“It’s up to her, Raff. This time I’ll leave it up to her.”

Soleil takes both my hands in hers and says, “Daddy, you need to look away, because I have to kiss him.”

“Roger that. I’ll go to bed, I guess. You may now kiss my daughter.”

“Roger that,” I say. “Thank you, Coach.”

As soon as her dad’s left the room, Soleil’s hands are gripping my shirt and she’s pulling me to her. “Thank you for choosing me,” she says between kisses. “I will always, always, always choose you.”

“Don’t try to push me away again, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise. I will only try to help you find ways into me,” she says, with as straight a face as she’s capable of. “Where’s your phone?”

I pull my phone out of my pocket.

“Delete the video I sent you tonight.”

“Gladly.” I do.

“Now record what I’m about to say and show it to me tomorrow.”

I open the camera app and tap the Record button.

Soleil leans into me so both our faces are framed on my phone screen. “Hello, Dean and Future Me. I would like to find a way for Dean to get into me tomorrow. Please make it happen. I will accept his fingers and or his tongue for starters, but they need to get up in there or I’ll start thinking he’s forgotten how to get up in there.”

“All right. It’s on.”

“You mean it’s in?”

“I mean they’ll be in.” I stop the recording and kiss her on the forehead, getting a good whiff of her hair, like a creep. “Good night, Soleil. I hope you see me in your dreams tonight. You will definitely see me at the rink tomorrow morning. And the next. And the next. And the next.”

11

SOLEIL

April 17th

Dear Diary,

Girl.

You’re in for a treat.

Spoiler alert: If there are bruises on your lower body and pink scuff marks all over your boobs and inner thighs—you thoroughly enjoyed receiving them.

Like, a lot.

I mean, I’ve always liked life. Even when Mom was sick and things were terrible, I could see what was beautiful abouther. I didn’t like what was happening, but I loved her so much and the way she was, through everything. And okay, if I’m being honest, after she was gone, for a while it felt like I had to shine even brighter. For Dad and for Noah. To fill that empty space that she left. It wasn’t hard for me to do—I was glad I could help them feel better, and it made me feel closer to Mom too. But I think at a certain point I forgot that it’s not my job to make my dad and brother feel safe by thinking I’m safe. And it’s not like they weren’t protective of me before she got sick, but afterward…let’sjust say that a lot of my energy was spent making sure they don’t lose me too.

Except that I slowly started to realize I had lost myself.

And I don’t think I was even aware that I had made a wish for someone to come along and help me find myself again.

Do I wish I didn’t need journals and videos to remind myself of who he is to me and what we’ve done together every single morning? Sure. But before I had amnesia, I didn’t pay enough attention to things. Yeah, I noticed visual details as an artist, but I’m the first to admit that I didn’t really soak in everything I experienced in a day. Even though I had a normal, working memory, I wasn’t really awake or aware enough to remember things on a deep level.