Alle Kapitel von Skating With Hearts : Kapitel 121 – Kapitel 130

The door closed softly behind me with that faint click that always made the dorm room seem quieter than it actually was. For a second, I just stood there—leaning against the door, hugging my bag to my chest like some teenager who’d just come back from her first ever date.Except, technically, it wasn’t our first date. But it felt like it.The real first one, even though it had been very beautiful, had been all nervous energy and and me trying to wrap my head around the fact that Ryans Maddox and I were dating now. This one—this night—was different. It was calm and intoxicating at the same time. The kind of night that crawled under your skin and refused to leave.June wasn’t home. Her side of the room was empty, her art supplies scattered on her desk like she’d left in a hurry. The faint smell of her fruity lotion still lingered, mixing with my vanilla candles.I kicked off my shoes, my body humming with leftover adrenaline. Everything inside me still felt like laughter.The hoodie Ry

Morning came but it didn’t feel like morning.It felt like the world had paused sometime between last night’s ambulance sirens and the dull hum of the hospital hallway. I hadn’t slept. I don’t even remember doing much. I’d sat on a bench outside the hospital till dawn, forehead pressed against my arms , eyes burning while he same words replayed in my head: Parkinson’s disease.Those two words had weight. A kind of weight that didn’t crush you all at once but settled in slowly, seeping into your bones until you could barely breathe.When the sky turned a weak, colorless gray, I forced myself to move. Coffee didn’t help. Nothing did. My hands still shook when I tried to button my shirt. My reflection looked like someone else—someone older, more hollow.By the time I got back to the hospital, the air outside smelled like disinfectant and burnt toast from the cafeteria. Everything looked too clean, too calm for the chaos sitting in my chest.At the reception, the nurse glanced up from her

By the time she walked in, I was already on my fourth cup of coffee.The smell of roasted beans had settled into my clothes, and my hands shook from too much caffeine and not enough sleep. The cafe had grown louder as the morning rushed on. There was the clinking of mugs, low jazz humming through the speakers and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine renting the air. People came and went in streams but I stayed rooted to that same corner by the window like some stranded ghost.Then she appeared.Jasmine.She was coming in twenty something minutes after I called her. I couldn’t blame her though— I hadn’t exactly given her much notice. I was grateful that despite the tedious duty of taking care of her mother, she managed to be here so quickly. She pushed open the door, and the chime above rang soft but sharp enough to make my chest tighten. I managed a wry smile as I watched her come. She was as beautiful as ever. It was that effortless, unintentional kind of beauty that didn’

When I stepped out of my dorm eventually, the afternoon air was cool enough to bite through the collar of my jacket, thanks to the small rain that came down earlier. Jasmine walked beside me, her hands tucked into her pockets, her eyes half-lowered like she was walking through her own head too. Neither of us said much. The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It was just heavy, like there were too many words hanging in the air, and both of us were afraid that if we spoke, they’d fall all at once.Boston afternoon had this strange duality: part chaos, part calm. The streets were alive as always with traffic humming, coffee carts steaming on corners and people walking briskly with their lives perfectly intact. It still felt unfair, almost cruel, that the world could keep spinning so easily while mine felt like it had stalled somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.Jasmine and I didn’t talk about Coach. We didn’t talk about the Skylar either. I think Jasmine understood I was trying t

The sound of blades scraping against ice was the only thing keeping me grounded.That rhythmic hiss, the echo of speed, the cold air slapping against my face — it was the one place where life made sense. Out there, on the rink, pain couldn’t reach me. Not really. It stayed at the edges, watching, waiting for when I’d stop.But I couldn’t stop.Coach Donovan was home, recovering, and I’d told the team he’d gone for an “emergency trip.” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words Parkinson’s disease out loud. Not yet. Saying it would make it too real.So, I lied to them instead and encouraged them to skate.We’d been at it for hours. My shirt clung to my back, damp with sweat despite the cold. My thighs burned. The rink lights glared down, bright enough to sting my eyes. Every breath came out in short, frosty bursts.“Hey, Ryans,” Ethan called from across the rink. “You good? You’ve been zoning out for the last five minutes.”I forced a grin. “Just thinking about how slow you’ve gotten, H