A group of friends tries to piece itself back together after losing its glue.
*****
It's a quiet October morning in Palo Alto, California, when the news break out--June Beaumont was...
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
GRACE
I was going to disown my own mother.
I know, I know, melodramatic. That didn't change the fact that her voice was worsening my already persistent migraines and knowing she followed me around everywhere I went—except for school, because even that was a bit of a stretch in her eyes—was slowly but surely making my hatred of her company grow by the millisecond.
She followed me around the ice-skating rink like a hawk, as I wobbled like a penguin thanks to my hot pink blade guards. I was definitely having the time of my life, stomping my feet with my mother refusing me to go anywhere by myself; who wouldn't want to be in my shoes?
"Am I allowed to talk to my coach in private or are you sticking around for that too?" I questioned, hearing her stilettos clicking behind me. Leave it to Aiko Sato to wear Louboutins to a goddamn figure skating competition. "Seriously."
"I'm just trying to look out for you," she dryly remarked. "Something bad always happens to you in this rink whenever I'm not around. If you take figure skating as seriously as you claim to"—I tried my hardest not to roll my eyes at her, as it would worsen our already decaying relationship—"I take it you don't want to risk getting injured again. That sprained ankle could have ended your career."
"Yes, please, remind me of all the times you thought I had a bright future as a figure skater instead of pushing me towards a medical career."
"You know I've always been a firm advocate of you doing both, Grace. Being a doctor helps you with your injuries and will earn you the money for competitions and—"
"—and skating helps you make a joke or two at my expense during family dinners. Gotcha." She huffed, while I wished my coach would come and save me from my own personal hell. "I know this rink like the back of my hand. I really don't need you to do this."
"Grace, I—"
"Gracie!"
I perked up. Coach Greenberg chose that exact moment to take a step towards us, turning to the hallway we were crossing, and I thought of it as some sort of divine intervention.
"Hi, Coach," I breathed out, filled with relief. "I was just looking for you."
"So I've heard." Coach glanced at my mother. "Lovely to see you here, Mrs. Sato. It's been a while." That was the understatement of the century. It wasn't like she had ever shown that much interest in figure skating—like, ever—and she was here to keep an eye on me, to ensure I wouldn't deviate from her behavior standards. "What brings you to the rink?"
