All Chapters of Skating With Hearts : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

I continued to lock my gaze on Caleb, my jaw tight, my hands curling into fists at my sides. He just stood there like a smug little prince, a fake smile tugging at the corner of his full lips.God, I wanted to plant my fist in that grin. My chest burned with the urge. The cafeteria was buzzing all around us, but all I could hear was my own pulse pounding in my ears. Caleb leaned back, tilting his head like he had already won some silent game.It was as if he was daring me to do exactly what I had done a few days ago. I could see it in the glint in his eyes. He was so baiting me right now. But then Coach Donovan’s voice from yesterday echoed in my head: “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”Then quickly following his words was that of the college head: You will not engage in any further altercations. Not with Caleb. Not with anyone. Should this happen again, no amount of testimony will save you. Do you understand?”The words of those two men hit me like a bucket of cold water and

I must have drifted off sometime after June went quiet on her side of the room and had gone to sleep. It was very late in the evening and the room was dark, except for the thin slice of hallway light slipping through the blinds, and I remembered watching that silver light crawl across the floor until my eyes closed on their own.Then the dream started.It was like someone had dropped me into a painting—colors too bright, edges too sharp, every detail so vivid it almost hurt to look at. I was standing in a garden I didn’t recognize, surrounded by flowers that looked like they’d been stolen out of a fantasy novel. Roses the size of my head, lilies glowing faintly like lanterns, vines twisting themselves into heart-shaped arches.Someone was brushing my hair. I looked down and realized I was wearing a dress. Not just any dress, but a flowing white gown that sparkled faintly as if the fabric itself had been dipped in starlight. The fabric had tiny silver beads all over it. The strange th

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails bit into my palms. My chest felt like it would burst with all the tangled mess of anger, humiliation, and confusion Ethan had just dumped on me. For a moment, I wanted to snap back at him, to hurl every bitter word bubbling in my throat. But something inside me—maybe the tiny sensible voice that still had a shred of patience left—warned me that exploding at Ethan right now was the last thing I should do.Not when we were alone. Not when he was Ryans’ best friend.I forced my lungs to drag in a long, shaky breath. My eyes stung, but I blinked hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crack. I turned away from him, staring at the dull beige wall by my desk, tracing the faint crack that ran down from the ceiling. I focused on it, used it to tether myself back, to smooth over the rage burning in my blood.When I finally turned back, I made sure my face was as calm as I could manage, even though my jaw ached from how tight I was holdin

“Sky?” June's voice continued to be a mix of worry and alarm, the kind that made my chest tighten even more. She was really, really, really alarmed right now. I could tell from her face. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying like that?”I sniffed hard, dragging the back of my hand across my face, but it did nothing to stop the tears. “I—I don’t know,” I stammered, shaking my head. “I just… I don’t know.”June frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as if that would help her think clearer. “No. Don’t give me that. Something’s up. You don’t break down out of nowhere like this.”“I swear I don’t know what’s wrong,” I whispered, but even to my own ears it sounded weak.She narrowed her eyes at me like she could see straight through the excuse. “Skylar,” she said firmly, “you’re shaking. Talk to me. What happened?”My lips trembled. The words scraped their way out before I could stop them. “Ethan was here.”June blinked. “Ethan? Your brother?”“Yeah. He just left.” My chest squee

The cafeteria felt louder than usual. The clinking of trays against metal counters, the chatter of students overlapping like badly tuned radios, the occasional burst of laughter from one table or another—it was all too much. I sat across from Ryans, staring at the half-empty plate of pasta between us, but all I could really hear were my own words circling back, stabbing me again and again:You already made me look at you differently, Ryan. By not trusting me enough to be honest.You already made me look at you differently, Ryan. By not trusting me enough to be honest.You already made me look at you differently, Ryan. By not trusting me enough to be honest.The words hung there like a smoke cloud, heavy and suffocating. He hadn’t said anything immediately, and the silence had turned sharp. I could see the way his jaw worked, how he was grinding his teeth as if holding himself back from snapping at me.Behind us, trays scraped against tables. A girl at the far corner squealed because h