The Trouble with #9 by Piper Rayne
One week later, I arrive at the Fury arena with a box of supplies to start the at-risk youth program. We’re going to be called the Fury Juniors and Jana has agreed to help me.
“Hey, Sid, thanks for coming in,” I say to the security guard who has to be here on overtime to watch over the building during our practice.
“No problem, Miss Paisley.”
Mr. Gerhardt pulled out all the stops to make sure these kids feel like royalty. He hired a bus to pick them up and bring them here. They each have new skates, pads, and jerseys that Jana designed. Not sure how a bunch of twelve-year-olds will feel about polar bears, but it is what it is.
I’m just getting everything organized when Jana walks in. I raise my eyebrows at her and she stops, looking down at herself.
“What are you wearing?” I ask, shaking my head.
She has on pink spandex tights, a leotard, leg warmers, and a pair of brand-new white skates hanging from her shoulder. She holds her arms out to her sides. “What?”
“The eighties called and you’re wanted in Jazzercise.”
She narrows her eyes.
Seriously, I maybe could have understood if she showed up in a sequin leotard like when she was in the midst of her figure skating obsession, but I’m not sure where she got this look from.
“I see nothing wrong with this,” she says. “I need to be flexible.”
“All the twelve-year-olds are going to be staring at your ass the entire time.”
She turns around and wiggles her ass in my direction, then picks up one of the jerseys. “Oh, it turned out so cute. Don’t you think it’s cute?”
“It’s cute,” I say because it is, and I know she meant well.
She sits on a bench and looks around. The Zamboni just cleaned the ice and it gleams in shiny perfection. “Where’s your sidekick?”
“I told you, I have it under control. He needs to worry about other things.”
“I don’t think that’s your call to make.”
I ignore her comment until I have everyone’s stuff out for them, then I join Jana. “I’m way too embarrassed to continue seeing him. We have one more therapy session—if we’re going to consider the first two legit, which they weren’t. And that stays between us.”
She holds out her pinkie and I wrap mine around it.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Jana has told me that multiple times, but I don’t believe her.
“I took off my shirt, offered myself up on a silver platter, and he ran out of the room as fast as he could.” I haven’t told her that he complimented my breasts, but I guess that’s the least he could’ve done.
“Relax, maybe you two are playing some game. It’s his form of foreplay or something.”
“I don’t do games,” I say.
Her head bobbles. I love my best friend, but she’s never had a guy tell her no. It stings, to put it mildly.
We hear the kids before we see them step through the opening into the arena. Each of them has wide eyes and their mouths hanging open as they look at all the seats, the Jumbotron, the ice.
“Man,” one kid says. “I can’t believe this.”
Another kid hits the first kid on the chest with his forearm. “You know there’s a catch. They’re using us to look good.”
A girl with braids on either side of her head pushes between them. “Who the hell cares? Use me all you want. This is amazing.” She turns to me, but her gaze shifts to the bench where everything is laid out. “Holy crap, is that for us?”
All the other kids take notice and they each run, finding the set with their name on the back of the jersey.
The girl with braids looks at me. “Like, these are for us?”
I nod. “Hi, I’m Paisley.”
None of them introduce themselves, too enthralled with everything. Maybe I went about this all wrong.
“Hello!” Jana screams. “She introduced herself.”
All the kids look at her.
The first boy who came in stares her up and down. “Where did you come from?”
“My dreams,” the other boy says.
“I like your outfit, where can I get one?” a different girl, who’s now next to the one with braids, asks.
“Really?” Jana asks, giving me a look over their shoulder like ‘I told you so.’ “Well—”
Both girls laugh. “No.”
Jana’s smile dims, but I know she has mirrors in her house. Then again, she gets away with a lot of the fashion chances she takes—just not this one.
I run my hand over Jana’s arm to soothe her ego. Kids are straightforward. Then I clap to try to gain their attention. They all turn in my direction for a moment, but quickly return to conversations of their own.
“Okay, quiet down,” I say. I don’t have a teacher’s voice though. I have a soothing psychologist’s voice and it’s not getting me anywhere with these kids. “Please have a seat.”
Still nothing. Jana purses her lips, watching the kids ignore me.
“Kids!” I say in the loudest voice I have, but it still lacks the authority I need.
“Sit down!” Jana yells.
All the kids look at her.
The first kid who walked in raises his eyebrows at her. “Calm down, Jane Fonda.”
“Who the hell is Jane Fonda?” a red-haired kid asks.
“My mom found her video tapes at the Salvation Army and she’s doing them every day. She dresses just like her,” one of the girls says.
Jana’s bottom lip trembles before anger replaces it. I laugh at my best friend. I know a lot of trends have come back, but I don’t think leotards with spandex and leg warmers have. Maybe she’s starting something though.
“Your mom doesn’t need to work out. She’s got an amazing ass,” another kid says.
“Okay, that’s enough chitchatting,” I say. “Sit down so we can go over what we’re going to do today.”
They listen this time and sit on the bench.
“We were told the Fury players were gonna be here,” the girl in braids says. “You two definitely aren’t them. Is he?” She thumbs toward Sid.
Sid might be able to pass for a retired hockey player.
“No. That’s Sid, he’s with security.”
The red-haired kid leans into the first kid. “He’s here to make sure we don’t steal anything.”
“That is not what I meant.” I give the kid a stern look, but he’s not concerned about me.
“Then why is he here? To help us in case you go mental?” the red-haired kid asks.
Jana shakes her head. “Just be quiet and listen to her. This is ridiculous.”
When they finally quiet down, I introduce myself again. “I’m Paisley Pearce, and I’m your coach. This is Jana, and she’s going to assist me.”
“Assist us in learning twirls?” the girl in braids asks.
“No, she knows how to skate. How many of you know how to skate?”
Half of them raise their hands.
“And out of you, how comfortable are you in skates?”
Half of them wave their hands back and forth. Oh boy, do I have my work cut out for me. Then again, we’re in Florida. I don’t know why I expected any different.
“That’s fine. I just wanted to know where to start. We’ll work on skating first. Let’s do some introductions so I know who everyone is.” I point at the first kid who came in.
“Malcolm,” the kid says.
The red-haired kid says, “Dru.”
“Meaning Drew, as in Andrew,” Malcolm corrects him.
“It’s D.R.U.”
The group rolls their eyes.
“Okay, Dru.” I continue down the line.
The girl in braids speaks up. “I’m Lark.”
“And I’m Marin,” the other girl says.
They’re the only two girls in the group, and I can already tell that they’re probably going to be the toughest.
“Great. Each of you have your jerseys. If you want to just put them over your shirts, then we can get your skates on.”
After Jana and I work tirelessly to get all their laces done up tightly enough on their skates, I’m already exhausted and I haven’t even helped them to stand on their skates.
“Jana is going to show you the basics of skating.”
Jana opens up the door and glides out onto the ice.
“Man, I’d learn to figure skate just to put my hands on her thighs in a lift,” Dru says.
“You watch figure skating?” Lark gives him a judgmental glare.
“Um, there are half-naked women on there. I’m not ashamed.”
“Let’s focus on her footwork,” I say. “Look how she shifts her weight from one leg and pushes off with the opposite one.”
“That’s a lot to ask, Miss Paisley,” Dru says, and I’m pretty sure his eyes are fixed on Jana’s ass and not her footwork.
“Where are the Fury players? I want to learn to hit,” Malcolm chimes in, looking around.
“I can probably get a few here one day, but for the most part, it’s just going to be Jana and me.”
They groan.
“You’re going to teach us how to hit a puck in the net?” Dru asks skeptically, looking at Malcolm as though we’re from Mars.
Jana stops herself on the edge of the wall instead of using her skates. So maybe she’s not as good as she was once. “See how much fun this is?”
“Use a stick and a puck.” Marin grabs a stick, hands it over the boards to Jana, then throws the puck on the ice.
“Sure.” Jana gives me a fleeting look of terror but takes the stick and hits the puck. She’s clearly unable to control the puck because she’s chasing it more than anything.
The kids all watch her, some groaning, others sighing, and the rest looking on with disbelief. I imagine they all had high hopes, and now I feel like shit for taking away their opportunity to learn from a Fury player because I was too embarrassed to face him.
I’m a giver. I’ve always been a giver, and yeah, sometimes that’s gotten me into trouble. Gotten my heart broken. For instance, when I gave my dad a chance at fifteen—after he said he wanted to have a relationship with me—only for his new wife to tell him he couldn’t take me on a trip to Paris when she’d yet to go there herself. And that’s only one instance.
After today, I’m going to have to suck up my pride and ask Maksim to help me with these kids. But right now, they’re here and we need to make the most of it.
I grab the skate trainers that slide along the ice to help them learn. “Everyone, take one of these and make your way to the ice. Use these until you feel comfortable.”
They listen to me and venture out onto the ice. Some of their ankles buckle, but each of them seems to have a perseverance that’s admirable. Dru follows Jana around as if she’s a supermodel, and the girls laugh together while they find their footing. Malcolm falls and his walker slides away from him, leaving him helpless on the ice. All the kids glance over and look at each other uncomfortably as he crawls over to the door leading to the bench.
Malcolm pulls off his helmet and tosses it across the way. “This is so stupid. I’m ready to leave.”
As the kids all start venturing off the ice, one thing becomes clear—Malcolm is their leader. Whatever he says goes. Even Dru holds on for life as he makes his way over to his friend. He mumbles how right Malcolm is, that this is lame and wondering why they even bothered coming.
I’m about to lose them and I feel terrible. Also, how the hell am I going to explain this to Mr. Gerhardt?
