Outside Edge (Knockout Girl Book 5)

by Natasja Eby

  His eyes sparkle as he laughs and I have to look away. I like this Adrian—the one who knows how to have a good time. He makes me forget...all the stuff I don’t want to remember. He makes me want to skate again.

  That’s a scary thought, so I pull him aside and said, “Let’s go find that Santa suit.”

  “Sure thing!” he says easily, following me off the ice.

  We change into our regular shoes and then I go looking for the storage room that holds some extra costumes. The Santa suit stays here year-round, since it’s only used once a year…just like the real Santa outfit.

  I snort at that thought. Adrian gives me a funny look, which just makes me laugh harder.

  “Never mind,” I say, trying to not laugh so hard.

  The storage room is unlocked, much like everyone’s houses in Christmastown. I swear there’s no security here and why would there be? Everyone knows everyone here. You’d never get away with a theft.

  There’s a box on a shelf labeled “Christmas”—which doesn’t mean that much in this town, to be honest. But I pull it down anyway and open it up.

  “Oh, here it is!” I say, spotting the bright red sparkly coat. I pull it gently out of the box and let it fall open. “It’s more sparkly than I remember.”

  Adrian’s eyes widen. “This isn’t the Santa I know from my childhood.”

  I laugh and run my hands over the coat. It’s classic in the sense that it’s bright red with white faux fur trim. But at the same time, it’s also got two tails like a tux and the lapels are so wide they’ll almost cover his entire torso.

  “I know, eh? Here, try it on.”

  I hold it open and he steps forward, putting his arms into the sleeves. He starts doing up the buttons while I grab the big black belt from the box. I put the belt around him while he holds his arms out, then step back to take a look.

  Okay, he looks great in red. And sparkles.

  “I love it,” I say. “Now all you have to do is learn some passable moves, sing a little song, and you’ll be a great Santa.”

  His whole faces scrunches up as he asks, “Did you say sing a song?”

  “Yes...?” I say

  “Um, no thanks.” He starts undoing the belt so frantically I’m afraid he’s going to break it. “Can’t sing. Let’s find someone else.”

  He’s going to rip the belt. I put my hands on top of his to stop him and he looks up at me. When he’s finally stopped moving so much, I undo the belt for him.

  “It’s fine,” I say. “It’s just ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas.’ Anyone can sing that.”

  “Anyone...and their wife?” he asks pointedly.

  My heart flutters as my eyes shoot up to his. I laugh out loud when I see his slow grin and realize he’s referring to Santa and Mrs. Claus. “Yeah, okay... I guess I can sing it with you. If we can get a good outfit and if we can come up with some good choreography.”

  “Those are small ifs,” he says. “I’ll take it.”

  I watch him carefully unbutton the coat and gently take it off. I appreciate that he’s being careful with it, considering how many times it’s been patched up before.

  “You know, you could probably borrow that for a Halloween party,” I say with a smile. “It’d be so funny, right? Like, Santa, what are you doing? It’s too early for you.”

  His whole face falls, his arms dropping to the sides while I try to figure out what was wrong with what I said. He stares at me for a moment and I don’t even know if he’s breathing.

  “Or...you don’t have to,” I say quickly.

  Finally, he blinks, breathes, and goes back to folding the coat. “No. No, that’s okay. I’ll just leave it here until the show.”

  The air shifts around us as he puts the coat and belt back in the box. I’m wondering what I should say or do but I’m not even sure what went wrong in the first place.

  “Not a fan of Halloween, I guess?” I say, hoping that’ll open up the conversation.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he whispers before bolting for the door.

  I sit on the floor next the box, wondering what I did wrong. He doesn’t like Halloween. He could have just said so. With a sigh, I sift through the rest of the box. There are some elf and fairy costumes in here. No Mrs. Claus. But who wants to be married to a grumpy Santa anyway?

  ***

  When I meet with Rosa the next day, I’m in an even worse mood than I would normally be. I thought I had Adrian all figured out. I was really starting to like being with him. But I don’t want to talk about him with Rosa. So I put on the realest smile I can muster and sit on her nice comfy couch.

  “Nice to see you so happy today,” Rosa comments with a soft smile of her own.

  My smile turns real when I realize I’ve fooled her. “And it’s so nice to see you, too. I have really good news for you.”

  Rosa’s eyes brighten. “Do you?”

  “Yup,” I say, sitting up straight. “I’m doing a lot better. I’m skating again, I’m opening up at my Get Dry meetings. I’m even eating better. So I think...we can probably stop seeing each other now.”

  Her smile freezes on her face. “I’m really happy to hear that, Brooke. But I don’t think we’re done here.”

  “But...but I’m doing better.” I know I sound whiny, but I can’t help it. “You’ve really helped me a lot, you know?”

  “And I’m glad for it,” she repeats firmly. “But we’re not done. The road to recovery is long. Just because you feel good today doesn’t mean you will tomorrow.”

  I slump back against the couch. “I’ve been feeling good for the last few days, actually. I promise, I’m fine now.”

  “We haven’t even gotten around to talking about your addiction,” she continues as if I never spoke.

  I bite my lip hard. “How can we talk about something that doesn’t exist?”

  “And this is the reason you and are I not finished just yet,” she says in an annoyingly calm way. “But if you still aren’t ready to talk about that just yet, then why don’t we focus on the good things that you’ve been doing lately? Tell me more about the skating.”

  I cross my arms and mumble, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  She drops her gaze to the notebook sitting on her lap. We both know the topic of my so-called addiction will shut me down faster than anything else. But there’s still twenty minutes left of the session and I can’t storm out of every one of them like I’m always tempted to do.

  “What about that young man?” Rosa asks. “The one who’s skating with you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about him either,” I whisper. Maybe I would have if she hadn’t brought up the addiction thing. Or maybe if he hadn’t run away from me yesterday. Either way, I’m not sure what to say about him.

  Rosa lets out a barely audible sigh. “What should we talk about, then?” she asks with exaggerated patience.

  I stare at the ground for a moment then smile up at her. “Let’s talk about you. I never get to ask the questions.”

  “You know you can ask me anything,” she says politely.

  “Great.” I sit back up again. “What is it that makes you want to waste all your time with me? Is it the money?”

  She blinks slowly, looks down at the ground, and purses her lips. Looking back up into my eyes, she says, “I don’t consider it a waste. I think you need help. You have a lot of things to work though, things you’re holding inside. That’s what I’m here for. When you’re ready, we’ll talk about everything. I’ll listen, and...one day, all this waiting on my part will be worth it.”

  “I think you’re going to be waiting a long to find out you’re wrong,” I say.

  I wasn’t going to storm out this time, but I can’t help it. I grab my bag, stand up, and head for the door.

  Just as I put my hand on the door handle, Rosa says, “I’ll see you next week. Maybe we’ll talk about the skating.”

  “Maybe,” I whisper.

  I leave the building and ge
t onto my bike. I really want to like Rosa. I do. She’s patient and has kind eyes and doesn’t pity me like everyone else. But she also thinks I have all these problems that she needs to fix. I can’t with that. I don’t want to talk about that stuff. Especially not with someone who’s being paid to listen to me.

  As I pedal down Judge McDuff’s street, I wonder briefly if Adrian would listen to me whine about the whole situation. But considering I’m not sure what I did to make him run off yesterday, it’s probably not a good idea to seek him out. Which means I’m stuck like this. Still.

  CHAPTER thirteen

  Adrian

  Brooke’s got me thinking about Halloween and that’s something that I had put from my mind a long time ago. Before I got sent to Christmastown, I figured while I was at university, I’d go to plenty of parties, meet a lot of new people, and yes—drink. It wouldn’t matter what I did because I wouldn’t remember most of it.

  Now I’ve been sober for two months and every memory of every crappy party is starting to haunt me, including last Halloween. That particular memory tempts me to go drink more than anything else has in the last couple of months.

  But I can’t. Not just because I’m being forced to stay dry, but because for once in my life, the clarity in my head feels really good. Even if it does mean I have to face my past demons.

  It’s a sad kind of injustice that I have to pass the liquor store on my way to the church for my Get Dry meeting. I almost, almost want to stop. But...it’s time I own up to my mistakes, to the person that I am inside. The person I don’t want to be anymore.

  Brooke is already inside with an empty seat next to her. When she sees me, she gives me a beautiful smile that makes my stomach lurch. She’s going to hate me after she hears what I have to say.

  Dawson does his typical greeting and then opens up the floor for anyone to speak. I take a deep breath—which does nothing to calm me—and put my hand up. With barely concealed surprise, he gestures for me to go ahead.

  “Hey, guys,” I breathe, twisting up my hands in my lap. “I’m Adrian. And I’m an alcoholic.”

  I don’t know what I expected—clapping, or cheering, or a bunch of people saying, “I told you so”? But they just sit and wait respectfully.

  “What makes you say that?” Dawson asks politely.

  “Well...it’s almost Halloween and I was thinking about last year.” I swallow down my shame just thinking about it. “My ex and I went to a party. She was wearing an outfit that matched her best friend’s. He’s her boyfriend now, so, you know, that kind of ticked me off. I tried to get her to have a little drink with me. Everyone else was doing it. She said no. So, that ticked me off, too.”

  I pause to take another deep breath, carefully avoiding making eye contact with anyone. I have to push through this story. I have to get it off my chest.

  “Her friend got mad that I was pushing her so much, so I left it alone. He’s a boxer—they both are—and I didn’t exactly want to get into a fight there. But then she left early instead of staying and trying to have fun with me. So, I...I made out with another girl. It didn’t go any further than that, but I never told my girlfriend. I figured just because she didn’t want to have fun didn’t mean I couldn’t have any, right? The worst part is that I didn’t even feel bad about it until the next morning when I was too hungover to get out of bed.

  “And now I’m rethinking a lot of the decisions I’ve made, especially the ones where I was drinking. I realized that I don’t feel any remorse when I’m drunk and that scares me. It scares me to think that I’m doing all this bad stuff and I don’t care. But I do care about the consequences. It’s messed up everything for me.”

  I can’t even look at Brooke while I tell the story. She silently, respectfully stays next to me, but she probably thinks I’m awful.

  “I could have had a great relationship with that girl,” I continue. “But I let resentment and jealousy get the better of me. I drank a lot throughout our relationship with very few people knowing or realizing just how much. Not to mention I was awful to her after we broke up and I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me. She probably hates me. Everyone...everyone back home probably hates me or has forgotten about me by now.”

  I let out a huge, relieved gush of air. Saying all that stuff doesn’t change any of it but I feel ten times better not keeping it in anymore. I see the others nodding like they know how it is, but I still wonder if they truly get how horrible a person I am.

  “You know, Adrian,” Dawson says gently, “we’ve all been there. All of us here know what it’s like to feel out of control and that the only thing we can do is keep drinking. Right, guys?”

  They nod some more, some of them mumbling their agreement. It’s a tiny comfort.

  “But the fact that you recognize that is a huge leap forward,” he continues. His eyes are kind, even though I don’t deserve anyone’s kindness. “Becoming self-aware is the first step.”

  “Towards what?” I ask.

  “Healing.”

  Healing. I didn’t even know I was sick. But healing sounds like such a wonderful, soothing word that it’s all I can think about.

  “I want that,” I say breathlessly.

  Dawson smiles. “And you will have that. May I give you some advice?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I say. “That’s what I’m here for after all.”

  “Sometimes in order to heal, you need to be forgiven,” he says. “And in order to be forgiven, you need to forgive as well.”

  Ah. Well, that... “I don’t know. I don’t think I could get through two words with her.”

  Dawson nods sagely. “Start by forgiving yourself. Then you can begin to ask others.”

  Forgive myself? That sounds more impossible than getting Elli to forgive me.

  “Write her a letter,” Lou says in her smoker’s voice. “Women love that stuff.”

  I smile at her. I’m not much of a writer, but that sounds less daunting that confronting her directly. Plus Elli would love something like that. “Maybe I’ll try that. Thanks.”

  Throughout the meeting, I try to listen to the others talk, but I’m distracted by Brooke’s quiet presence and what she must think of me now. After the meeting’s over, I keep my head down while I put my chair away. But as I start to walk out of the church, a soft hand slips into mine.

  “Hey,” I mumble.

  She squeezes my hand. “Are you ever going to look at me again?”

  Slowly, I drag my gaze up to hers. Her eyes are twinkling and she smiles at me but I can’t smile back this time.

  “There you are,” she says softly. “I was beginning to think I did something wrong.”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m the one that always seems to do everything wrong.”

  Her smile slips. “Do you want to talk about it? We could go for a drive.”

  A part of me feels like I should keep Brooke far away from me and the pain I know I’ll cause her. But on the other hand, she’s the first girl who’s ever offered to just talk about my feelings without expecting anything else from me.

  “Okay,” I say.

  She grins again and tugs on my hand, pulling me towards the stairs. She leads me to her car and then cranks the heat as soon as we get in. She doesn’t ask me any questions as she drives through the dark, sleepy town.

  When I see her heading past the main streets, I ask, “Where are we going, exactly?”

  “There’s this little park up the next hill that’s got a great view of Christmastown,” she answers. “It’s, uh...it’s usually just a makeout spot, but it’s not a bad place for a talk.”

  “I see.” Out my window, I see more and more greenery as the buildings and houses become farther apart. “If you wanted to make out, you could have just said so.”

  “You’ve got a line for everything,” she mumbles. “I really do just want to talk.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Once we’ve gotten past the lights of the town, she turns left onto a sup
er old road that could use a good paving job. It’s bumpy and there are trees and other plants clambering for space along the edges. Brooke’s going too fast for my liking, so I grab on to my door handle. She winds and bends along this narrowing path and then mercifully pulls off through a break in the trees.

  “Oh, good, it’s empty,” she says.

  She parks the car right there on this little grassy knoll. Through the front window, I can see all of Christmastown, with its few little lights twinkling here and there. It’s beautiful. Brooke’s beautiful.

  I’m garbage.

  “You don’t really have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Brooke says softly.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “I...want to tell you.”

  I take a deep breath and enjoy the moment before I ruin it with my awful story.

  “Her name is Elli,” I finally say. The image of her smiling face, light blue eyes, and blond ponytail comes to my mind but I push it away. “She was this new kid who transferred to our school halfway through grade eleven. She’s from Hawaii, so of course she has this adorable accent and awesome tan. She can’t skate to save her life, though. I don’t even think you could help her.”

  Brooke laughs. “Oh, well, she sounds totally horrible then.”

  I smile. “I know you’re joking, but she’s really not. She’s one of the few people I’ve ever met who would actually take the time to hang out with Julian. He was always a total loner and a huge geek and he let everyone push him around. Especially Red.”

  “Who’s that?” she asks.

  “He was the school’s boxing champ and a bully on top of that.” I shake my head. “Most of us steered clear of him, and he particularly liked to bug Julian. But Elli wasn’t cool with that and she told Red so. Somehow that turned into a boxing match between Julian and Red.”

  “Really?” she says, her eyes wide. “That sounds pretty uneven. What happened?”

  I shrug. “Julian trained really hard. My friends and I even helped him because we really wanted to see him win.”

  “And did he?”

  “No,” I say. “But he came so close. It was an amazing match and everyone cheered for him at the end anyway. Even Red became friends with him afterwards. I swear, only Elli could accomplish something like that.”