Outside Edge (Knockout Girl Book 5)

by Natasja Eby

  Adrian, I’m sure, will forget all about me.

  Two seconds later, my phone rings and I glance at the caller ID. It’s Adrian. Okay, so he hasn’t forgotten about me yet. I feel tremendous love but also tremendous guilt.

  “You deserve better,” I whisper as I silence the phone.

  Turning my whole focus back to the road, I’m glad now that it’s snowing so heavily. No one else is out here to see me leave. Not that they’d care anyway.

  While I drive, I mentally go over my plan. I’ll go a couple of hours out and find a motel, somewhere that will hopefully take cash so my mom can’t track me down. I packed enough stuff to last me before I’ll have to do laundry. Pyjamas, shirts, pants, so many socks, my skates...

  “Oh no!” I say, slamming on the brakes.

  Skidding the tiniest bit, I pull off to the side of the road. I put the car in Park and then check the stuff in the back seat. With a sigh of relief, I see my skate bag, sitting nicely next to my backpack. A nervous giggle rises up my throat and escapes past my lips.

  “Brooke, you idiot,” I whisper into the quiet night.

  All that trouble because I was afraid I’d left home without my skates, even though skating is the very thing I was trying to run away from. How silly of me to think I could escape what and who I am.

  I thump the steering wheel with the heel of my hand and make one more rash decision, this time to go back home. The tires groan as I make a U-turn on the empty, snow-covered road.

  Except, it turns out there isn’t just snow on the road. The car fishtails as it skids over black ice. I grip the steering wheel with whitened knuckles, my hearts racing faster than the tires are spinning.

  All I see in front of me is the rapidly swirling snow, my headlights bouncing off each flake but never reaching more than two feet in front of the car. I try desperately to get control of the car, but then something stops me with a force that jolts me forward.

  Everything goes black.

  CHAPTER twenty-two

  Adrian

  With our show only two days away, I’m nervous but in a really excited way. I’ve never performed in front of people in any sense. I don’t count hockey—that’s not a performance, it’s just a rush. And while I loved that, this is different. I never knew ice skating could make me so happy.

  But let’s be honest. It’s not just the ice skating, or even the season that’s making me happy. It’s Brooke.

  She’s mysteriously late for our rehearsal and I’ll razz her for that later. For now, I’m helping the kids get into place and doing everything I can to keep Marie’s nerves down. She’s normally so calm, I had no idea she’d get so stressed out just before the show.

  At the same time, the longer Brooke takes to get here, the more nervous I get. We’ve already gotten through the first two routines and she’s about to miss being the angel for Mary and Joseph. I know Brooke has been feeling off the last few days, but I can’t imagine why she would miss tonight’s dress rehearsal. I try calling her while the others are practicing but she doesn’t answer.

  Is she mad at me? Even if she were, would she miss this on purpose? I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

  When it comes time for Santa and Mrs. Claus’s routine, I stand helplessly in the middle of the ice. Zara gives me a pitying look and even Red looks like he feels bad.

  “Have you called her?” Marie asks.

  I sigh. “Yes.”

  “Everything will be alright,” she says, but she has a worried look on her face, too.

  I nod and we end our rehearsal early. On the way back to Pops’s, I ask Red if we can stop by Brooke’s house.

  “Just in case,” I say.

  “Of course,” he answers easily.

  Brooke’s house is a few blocks past Pops’s. When we get there, I only see one car in the driveway and it’s not hers.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say as I slip out of the car.

  Brooke’s mom answers the door. I’ve only met her a handful of times, but she smiles when she sees me. Her smile slowly falls as she looks past me.

  “Do you know where Brooke is?” I ask without bothering to greet her.

  Her eyes widen. “Didn’t you just have rehearsal with her?”

  “She never showed up,” I say. “Is there anywhere else she would have gone?”

  She shakes her head slowly and opens her mouth but nothing comes out. With my heart heavy in my chest, I take a step back. “I’m going to look for her.”

  “Wait, Adrian—”

  I don’t wait. I go up to Red’s car door and tap on the window. “Let me drive,” I say as he rolls it down. “I need to find Brooke.”

  “But aren’t you on prob—?”

  “Yeah,” I say roughly, cutting him off. “I’ll deal with that later.” I open up the door but Red still won’t budge. “Come on, man. Please.”

  My voice breaks, but that proves to be the magic word. Zara immediately climbs into the back seat so Red can take the passenger seat.

  “Just drive safe, okay?” he mumbles as I put the car in gear.

  I don’t answer as I rack my brain for where she might have gone. I can’t think of any place that was special to her other than the rink. But obviously that wasn’t special enough.

  “I see some tire tracks in the road,” Zara says, pointing past the seats. “Maybe we can follow them?”

  She’s right. They’re faint and barely illuminated by the streetlights. But I can see them well enough. I follow them out of the little neighbourhood towards the highway. It’s a little more difficult to track out here, where other tires have gone over the same path, but I have to try.

  I drive a good ten minutes, wondering if maybe I should turn around when Red, says, “There!”

  He points off to the left, where there’s a little grey car in the ditch next to the road. My heart lurches, but I turn carefully off the road so we don’t end up with a similar fate. As terrible as it sounds, I’m hoping I’m wrong and that it’s not Brooke’s car. But as I peer into the car, I can see her slouched awkwardly behind the wheel.

  “Call nine-one-one!” I shout frantically as I rush out of Red’s car.

  Brooke’s car doesn’t look like it took too much damage, but I’m seriously worried about the way she’s slumped over in the seat. The door creaks as I open it slowly.

  “Brooke?” I whisper.

  I lean close to her face and wait. Relief rushes through me as her breath spreads across my cheek.

  “Breathing?” Zara asks behind me.

  I nod, but can’t speak past the tears clogging my throat. There’s a gash surrounded by a bruise on Brooke’s forehead. I reach behind her to check if the back of her head is okay or not. Red is speaking in a calm, clear tone on the phone and I couldn’t be more grateful that he took that job. I don’t think I could speak two words right now if I wanted to.

  The cut on Brooke’s forehead is still bleeding a bit so I take my scarf off, fold it up, and put it on her forehead. I glance back at Zara to see she’s already unwrapping her own scarf. She manages to squeeze in under my arm. Together, we try to move Brooke as little as possible so Zara can tie her scarf around her head.

  With that done, I drop to the ground and lean back against the car. Zara’s still checking out Brooke but I don’t know what else we can do for her.

  “Where are we?” Red asks, standing over me.

  I look down the road and say, “We’re on Highway 13, just north of that tree with the Grinch hiding behind it.”

  “Okay...” Red says. He repeats what I said and then waits. Lifting an eyebrow at me, he says, “They want to know if it’s the big Grinch or the little one?”

  “The big one,” I say wearily. The little one is much closer to the hospital.

  I pull out my phone. I don’t have Brooke’s mom’s number, so I call Pops and tell him what’s up. As we talk, I get up and look around, trying not to disturb the snow too much. The tire tracks confuse me—they’re all over the p
lace and I can’t even tell where she started from. Why was she out here in the first place? What could she possibly have been thinking?

  The sound of sirens draws my attention. I feel relief but also complete dread. What if something is seriously wrong with Brooke? What if she can never skate again?

  What if...?

  What if she meant to never skate again?

  The ambulance arrives. A female and a male paramedic jump out of it. While the girl goes over to Brooke in the car, the guy goes to Zara and Red. I join them just as he starts his list of questions. The questions are basic, although we don’t have most of the answers.

  “Was she drinking?” he asks. “Or doing any sort of drugs, prescription or otherwise?”

  “Not likely,” I answer. “But none of us saw her today.”

  “Does she have a medical condition that would affect her driving?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Her mom would know and I’m sure she’ll be waiting at the hospital.”

  The paramedic nods and then finally makes eye contact with me. “Do you have any idea what she was doing out here or where she was heading?”

  Instead of answering, I look back at the tire tracks again. Before I can stop myself, I say, “Do you think there’s any chance this wasn’t an accident?”

  His face shifts the slightest bit—just enough to show me that he’s concerned. “Do you have any reason to believe it wasn’t?”

  I swallow hard, hesitating. “I’m not sure,” I whisper.

  “Adrian?” Zara says in a wavering voice.

  “Thank you for your honesty,” the guy says. “We’ll take it from here.”

  As he starts heading to the back of the ambulance, I ask, “Can we follow you to the hospital?”

  “Sure,” he says. “But there’s no guarantee when you’ll see your friend. Depending on her injuries, it could be a while.”

  “That’s fine,” I say.

  We wait for them to get Brooke out of the car and onto the gurney. I’m cold, but not just from the elements. I feel numb from my heart outwards. Woodenly, I follow Red and Zara back to the car.

  As we drive back to town, Zara turns in her seat and asks gently, “Did you mean what you told the paramedic?”

  “I don’t know,” I say slowly. “She hasn’t been...herself lately. I’m not sure what to think.”

  She nods but doesn’t say any more. Red follows the ambulance all the way to the hospital. I tell them they can go back to the house and leave me there, but Red ignores me and parks in the lot.

  Inside the hospital, Brooke’s mom is already there. She’s busy at the registration desk, I’m sure answering the questions I couldn’t answer before. After she’s finished, she finds us in the waiting area and sits with us.

  I don’t know how much time passes, but finally a nurse comes and calls Ms. Dubois. I start to stand, too, but she tells me to just wait and that she’ll let me know if I can come by after.

  “You guys don’t have to wait,” I say to Red and Zara. “I can find my way home later.”

  Red, with his arm across Zara’s shoulders, just shrugs. Zara smiles sympathetically and says, “We would just be sitting and worrying anyway.”

  Ms. Dubois comes back out a little while later, a strange expression on her face. She comes over to me and says, “Brooke...wants to talk to you.”

  “She’s awake?” I ask, jumping up from my seat.

  She nods and says, “Go ahead. They’ll show you where.”

  I head over to the doors and a nurse takes me over to a room down the hall. When Brooke sees me, her eyes narrow. She crosses her arms and waits for the nurse to leave. I want to ask Brooke how the cut on her forehead is, but I don’t get the chance before she speaks.

  “Why does everyone think I was trying to kill myself?” she asks.

  I swallow back my guilt. “I didn’t say that...”

  “Well, you said something,” she says, her eyes flashing. “And now everyone’s being all weird. You promised.”

  “Brooke, I—”

  “You promised me,” she repeats. “You said you wouldn’t say anything about it. Why would you even bring that up at a car crash?”

  My jaw drops. If she’d seen what I saw... “Because, I—”

  “Save it. I don’t want to hear your lies. Just go away,” she says in a quietly angry voice, before turning on her side away from me.

  I stare at her back for another moment before doing as she asked. She has every right to tell me to leave. I really screwed up. Again.

  I stomp back out to the waiting room and spit out, “Let’s go,” to Red and Zara.

  They immediately rise and follow me out. As we walk back to the car, Red asks, “Is Brooke okay?”

  “She’s fine,” I say tersely. She’s certainly feeling well enough to chew me out, but he doesn’t have to know that.

  We ride home in silence while I stew. I don’t know whether to be angry that she’s angry, embarrassed that I misread the situation, or sad that she found out about that the wrong way. How am I supposed to fix that?

  Back at Pops’s place, I find him anxiously waiting for us. I tell him quickly that everything is fine and race up to the loft. I know it’s rude, leaving Red and Zara like that after everything they went through for me tonight. But I’m a little too worn out to care.

  Red follows me up shortly after and doesn’t say anything. Soon, I can hear him snoring softly. He must be so tired. I know I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep. I toss and turn most of the night and get up early in the morning. With heavy, tired hands, I make some coffee and sit at the kitchen table to brood over my life. Again.

  Soon after, Red gets up and grabs his own coffee. He sits quietly next to me. I know he’s a man of few words and right now I need that more than anything. Of course, Zara joins us and immediately asks if I’m okay, if Brooke’s okay, and what’s going on.

  Red gives her a warning look, but I owe them an explanation. I tell them about my brief conversation with Brooke and how I had promised to never tell anyone just how deep her depression is. My voice breaks a little when I get to the part where she told me to leave her alone.

  “She’s probably cooled off by now,” Red says, before taking a sip of coffee. “You know how girls are.”

  “Um, do you know how girls are?” Zara snips, scowling at him. “Adrian, you definitely need to go see her and sort that out.”

  “I can’t,” I say, my voice cracking. I’m close to tears but I can’t cry in front of Red and Zara. She gives me a pitying look, but Red? He actually looks angry.

  “Aren’t you at least gonna try?” he asks.

  “She doesn’t want to see me,” I say. It’s getting harder to keep the tears in. “I made a promise to her and I broke that promise. She probably hates me now.”

  “She might feel that way now,” Zara says gently. “But I’m sure deep down she recognizes that it wasn’t the type of promise you should keep.”

  Red gives her a sharp look. “You’re right. I wouldn’t keep that promise, even for you. Maybe especially not for you.”

  Zara gives him a soft smile and squeezes his forearm. Despite my best effort, a tear slips down my cheek. I look away and lick it off my lip. I can’t do this. I can’t be the Red to Brooke’s Zara. I’ll never be good enough to make her happy.

  “Adrian.”

  I turn back towards Red.

  “If she already hates you, there’s not much worse you can do by visiting her,” he says.

  “Red,” Zara chastises, frowning deeply. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you.”

  Another tear slides down that I quickly brush away. “That doesn’t mean she’ll ever want to see me again. How do I keep screwing this up? Why can’t I just be a good boyfriend for once?”

  “A good boyfriend would go and see her,” Red pushes. “You know how that saying goes—if you can’t handle her at her worst, then you don’t deserve her at her best.”

  “I don’t deserve h
er at all!” I shout. Every last defense in me breaks down. I put my head on the table and let my tears fall freely. I can’t help the sobs that shake my shoulders. They let me cry for a good, long minute before anyone speaks.

  “Okay,” Red says softly. “Okay. So go and tell her that. I’ll bet anything she’ll try to change your mind.”

  I nod. “I’ll try. Will you drive me there?”

  “Of course,” he says.

  Once again, we drive to the hospital. My stomach is tied up in knots and I feel like throwing up. I probably should have eaten breakfast first, but I can’t think about that. Once we’re there, I tell them they don’t have to wait and that I’ll see them later, at least at the Community Centre.

  I go up to Brooke’s room, knock on the open door, and call softly, “Brooke?”

  She’s turned away from the door and her body tenses up, so I know she heard me. But she doesn’t acknowledge me. I think about what I should say to her. How can I tell her how I feel without scaring her or making her think I’m lying to her?

  I think about how badly I hurt Elli and that stupid, insincere apology I gave her afterwards. I was forced into going to her house to talk to her, and at the time, I was too mad to mean any of it. Elli knew right away. And Brooke would know if I was forcing an apology, too.

  But I’m not forcing anything this time. This time, my head isn’t clouded by alcohol and anger. My heart is overwhelmed with love and all I want is for her to know that I meant the best. That I would never hurt her or let anyone else.

  I clear my throat so she knows I’m still there. “I just came to say that I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I never meant to break my promise. But I was scared when I saw you in the car like that, and I didn’t know what to think or do.”

  I turn around, but before I go, I say, “I love every part of you. But I understand if you never want to see me again.”

  CHAPTER twenty-three

  Brooke

  After Adrian leaves, I shove the thin, white hospital blanket against my face and sob into it. Crying feels good, but it doesn’t solve anything. I’m sad that Adrian thought I was really trying to hurt myself. But even more than that is the fact that I gave him reason to believe that.