All Chapters of Kiss her on thin Ice: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Chapter Sixty - You really thoughtIt's up before I even make it to school.I see it the second I unlock my phone in the driveway, notifications already stacked three deep, and my stomach drops so fast I actually have to grip the steering wheel for a second before I can make myself look properly.The photo's grainy, clearly taken from across the street, but there's no mistaking it. Me, climbing out of Zane's window at dawn, his jersey still half tucked into my jeans, hair a mess, looking exactly like what it is.The caption underneath just says: didn't realize East Rivers and West Rivers did sleepovers now 👀No account name I recognize. Same energy as the rivalrytea post that leaked Kenzie's video weeks ago, posted from somewhere designed to spread fast and disappear before anyone can trace it back. It already has thousands of views by the time I've read it twice, the comments section exploding in real time while I sit frozen in my own driveway.My phone starts ringing before I've ev

Chapter Sixty-One - HalftimeThe scoreboard above center ice says WEST 2, EAST 2, and there is one minute and twelve seconds left in the second period.I know the exact number because I haven't stopped looking at that clock for ten minutes. It's easier than looking at the ice. It's a lot easier than looking at my own squad."Pom-poms up," Coach Ellery calls from the end of the line. "Smile like you mean it, ladies. It's a tie game, not a funeral.""Feels like a funeral," Jade mutters."Smile, Jade."Jade smiles. It is the worst smile I have ever seen on a human face. She's standing three girls down from me with her shoulders angled the other way, which is how every girl in this line has been standing since Wednesday. Like I'm a draft from an open window. Like if they turn their bodies just right, they won't feel me.Coach put me on the left end tonight. She didn't explain. She pointed, I went, and Priya slid into the center spot where I've stood since sophomore year like it had her na

Chapter Sixty-Three - Broken SticksWe hear it before we see it.A crash first, like someone dropped a drum kit down a flight of stairs. Then a roar from the far end of the arena that has nothing to do with hockey.Kenzie's head snaps toward the sound. "That's our side.""Come on."We run. My sneakers slap the concrete and her skates click behind me, and we burst out of the service tunnel into noise so loud it feels like walking into a wall. The third period is supposed to be starting. Nobody is on the ice. The resurfacer sits abandoned near the blue line with its engine still rumbling, and the entire West Rivers bench has spilled out onto the rubber mat in front of the penalty box.They're all holding something.Teddy Okafor, their goalie, stands at the front with his chest pads hanging off one arm. The foam has been slit open from collar to hem, and stuffing droops out of the cut like guts. Beside him, a defenseman named Luca holds two halves of a hockey stick, one in each fist, sta

Chapter Sixty-Five - The Bad Guy IIThen he turns and walks out of the room.They let me out through the main concourse.Reyes walks beside me, one hand not quite on my elbow, the other holding a clipboard. “We’ll need you at the station tomorrow with a parent. Nothing formal. Just a statement.”“I understand.”“Your mother’s been called.”“Of course she has.”The concourse is a slow river of people moving toward the exits. Students in navy and gold, students in black and silver, parents clutching coats, a few reporters holding phones at chest level. Everyone is talking in low, fast voices. The second I step out of the corridor, a bubble of silence ripples outward around me like a stone dropped in water.They know. Of course they know. Phones come up like a field of black flowers.I keep my chin high and walk.I pass Ricky with an ice pack on his eyebrow. I pass two girls from my squad who turn to each other and whisper. I pass Maddox, sitting on a bench with a towel pressed to his ch

Chapter Sixty-seven - The NobodyI scream.It's not a good scream. It comes out thin and cracked, and the brick walls around the courtyard throw it right back at me. Nobody is down there. Nobody is in this wing. It's two minutes to eight in the morning, and the only person who can hear me is the person doing the pushing."Help," I say. ". Help me. Helppp!""Shh." The voice is right at the back of my head. "You'll hurt your throat."A girl's voice. Low and even, almost kind. There's no machine in it this time, no metal, no gravel. Just a voice, and I know it. I know it the way you know a song you've heard in a hundred stores and never learned the name of."Who is that?""Guess.""Let me up!""That's not a guess."Her hands shift on my back. One slides up between my shoulder blades and the other stays low near my spine, and they lean. Just a little. My hips slide another inch over the sill. The wood scrapes my stomach through my cardigan, and my one remaining sneaker kicks against the r