One Little Chance (Sweet River)

Chapter 7

JANUARY 22ND, 2023

Orlando

SOPH. You need to get out of your house. I’m thinking I’ll come down to Sweet River for the weekend and invite some of our friends in town to skate.

Me

Skating?

Orlando

Yeah, City Hall leaves the rink up until Feb!

Me

I mean skating? as in, are we sure about this being the chosen activity?

Orlando

You fell one time, Soph

O rlando was worried about me. He was worried I was lonely coming back to town—even after I assured him I was making friends at the school and reconnecting with people from my past. He drove to Sweet River for the weekend and invited some of his local friends and our old mutual friend group to meet at the winter skate rink in front of Sweet River City Hall.

But I hate skating , I grumbled to myself that Saturday morning as I hung onto the sides of the rink for dear life. It was cute, this ice rink with fluffy green garland lining the sides and twinkle lights hanging overhead. Christmas trees were still glowing by the sidewalks. A big fake snowman with a mittened hand waved at the entrance.

But I still hated skating. I sniffled in the cold, latching onto Orlando as he skated by. The creamy scent of hot chocolate and sugary marshmallows wafted from the hot cocoa stand.

“Sophia, why don’t you ask if they have those kids’ stabilizers in a bigger size?” Orlando offered, slowing down for me.

“I have my pride, Orlando,” I whispered. “I am not asking for that. Can you be my stabilizer, please?”

He sighed as if I was really putting him out. A few of our friends started calling over, urging us to speed up, but I yanked him closer with a death grip when he tried to change our pace.

“Soph, are you new to skating?” Jeremy, Orlando’s best friend since toddler years, asked as he skated up.

“No, I’ve skated before,” I said, my fluffy coat bumping into Orlando’s.

“She’s just terrible,” Orlando offered, laughing when I widened my eyes at him.

“I’m nervous, okay? I’ve had some bad falls?—”

“Bad falls?” Orlando said aghast. “She fell once when she was a kid, and I caught her!”

“You were a tiny twig so that fall still hurt.” I pulled him to a stop. The three of us huddled on the ice.

“I can help you out . I don’t mind taking it slow ,” Jeremy said, and there was a certain twinkle in his eyes that made me wonder if he meant something more than skating.

I swallowed.

“Great idea. Jeremy, you’re a saint.” Orlando patted his friend on the back and skated off to our friend Anna who he’d been watching from across the rink.

I gave Jeremy a nervous smile as he looped his arm in mine. Jeremy had always been my younger brother’s silly sidekick, and I didn’t want to give him any ideas.

“How’s it being back in town?” he asked, tugging on his beanie. The air was frigid today.

“It’s been really nice. Everyone has been really welcoming, you know? It’s fun to see what shops have changed and what restaurants are new, like the Tavern downtown. And I’ve seen some people I didn’t realize how badly I missed, like old teachers and friends I hadn’t seen in forever.” Our pace was slow as molasses. I could feel my nose turning pink.

“Did you miss me?” Jeremy joked, dramatically slapping his hand to his chest. I wasn’t even sure I’d classify this as flirting since Jeremy had always been like this.

I opened my mouth to answer when I noticed Jordan standing across from us at the hot cocoa stand. His gaze was on Jeremy and me.

“Well?” Jeremy gave my arm a light squeeze.

“Uh, yeah, totally,” I said mindlessly, taking in Jordan’s expression, our eyes locking for a moment before he looked away. Tight jaw, steely eyes. I knew that look. It was the same one he had back when we were sixteen and my lab partner, Ben, wrote me a note confessing his longtime crush.

Jordan was jealous. A thrill shot through my spine. I didn’t want him feeling bad, but maybe, just maybe, in some way, I still affected him like he did me.

“Well, I’ve got to say, I know your brother sure is happy to have you home. He was pumped to put this skate meet-up together for you to make sure you’re happy enough here so you don’t run off again.” Jeremy was laughing like it was ridiculous of him, but it tugged on my heartstrings.

“I’m not running off anywhere,” I said, glancing sideways at him. “You can tell him I said that.”

“I’ll tell him. You can, too,” Jeremy said, then slid us to a stop by the rink exit. “I don’t know about you, but I am freezing. Want me to grab us some hot chocolate or coffee?”

Jordan was steps away from us in line. He shot a backward glance our way. My stomach swooped in a way it hadn’t in forever. It felt good.

“Coffee sounds great,” I said.

“I’ll leave you here.” Jeremy helped me off the ice and onto a bench on the sidelines. “But I promise I’ll be right back.” He meant it jokingly, but my eyes were on Jordan. I saw him shake his head.

“If I fall and break something while you’re gone, it’s on you,” I teased, making Jeremy laugh as he shuffled in his skates into the waiting line.

I started to unstrap my skates while Jordan moved to the side of the stand to wait for his order to be made. Discreetly, I glanced around the rink to see if I could spot who was with him.

“Hey, Soph, how do you like your coffee?” Jeremy called from his spot at the register, over the sound of squealing kids and giggling teenagers.

“Um.” I tried to think for a moment.

“She likes a medium, hot, with a splash of cream and cinnamon drizzled on top,” Jordan said his voice low like this was a reflex he didn’t want but couldn’t help. His gaze met mine as he added, “A big splash of cream, actually.”

Jeremy let his eyes follow from Jordan to me. He knew our history. He’d witnessed it firsthand at birthday parties and football games over the years. He raised a brow to me in question.

I nodded, my mouth dry. “He’s right. That’s exactly how I like it.”

Jeremy turned and repeated the order to the barista. I stood up, walking a few steps closer to the stand, closer to Jordan.

“You remember?” My voice was quiet as falling snow.

Jordan looked at me with half a smile and sad eyes. “Used to be more important to me that I got your order right than my own.”

“Used to be,” I said. I remembered that feeling deep in my bones. A frosty breeze blew my hair across my eyes.

He looked down at his feet. “Used to be.”