Miles Dempsey
It's day two of the ice skating clinic my aunt and uncle are hosting. Nola and I decided to get here extra early to have time to ourselves before all the kids start arriving. It's almost eight when we finish taking out all the necessary equipment for the day. Aunt Claire and Uncle John are on their way here now to catch up on paperwork. We sit on the bench, each on our phones in silence.
Never did I think Nola Scott and I would be sitting in a silence that's not awkward. When Aunt Claire asked me if I could instruct the class earlier this week, I didn't hesitate to say yes. I also didn't miss the fact that my heart started racing out of my chest when she told me she was going to ask Nola to be the female instructor.
Just when I thought me and Scott would possibly be out of each other's hair after we had that mutual agreement about two weeks ago, there she was making her way back into my life somehow. I'm beginning to worry that this is far from a coincidence. God, why are you putting this woman in my life? I'm not complaining - at least not like I was before - but why?
I agreed to help my aunt Claire with this clinic for her and the kids but when I heard Nola was going to be involved, I just wanted to do it even more. The image of her face when she saw me again was something I needed to see. I was also curious to see if she would stick to our truce. So far, we've behaved ourselves. Besides the occasional teasing, I'd say it's like what happened between us in the past never happened.
We didn't struggle to teach the class together yesterday. We agreed on everything we had to do and even had a nice conversation after all the kids were gone for the day. That discussion wasn't one I was planning on having. Never would I have assumed that Nola wanted to be an Olympian. I think that's a lot of athlete's dream. To represent their country on the biggest stage of all.
I know I would be honored to do it. But looking at her, I never would have imagined it was something she wanted. When she did tell me though, I could tell how much she wanted it. I've seen that look on so many athletes' faces. We all strive to be the best at what we do, and get to the places we want to be. Even though I don't know Nola all that well, I can feel her competitiveness radiating off her.
Hell, I'd experienced it firsthand when we went head-to-head here at Blazing Ice a couple of weeks ago. Success is difficult. It took me years to achieve my goals. Seeing someone who has so much passion for their sport is always refreshing. Cause the cold hard truth is, passion dies. You can love something with your whole soul, but one day you wake up, and it's not the same anymore.
The number of athletes I've met in my career who no longer love the sport is unfathomable. Granted that I've been playing hockey all my life, the love and passion for the sport is still there. I have never let a bad coach, bad teammate, or bad year ruin the game for me. Hockey is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't think anything or anyone would be able to top that.
I see the same passion I have for hockey that Nola has for figure skating. It's why I kept pressing her to consider doing what she wants and achieving those goals that she calls dreams. It may take time, effort, terrible days, blood, sweat, and tears - a lot of those - but I know she has the ability to do it.
Figure skating isn't my forte but I can appreciate talent when I see it. When I first met Nola, I saw what she could do. I can't describe what exactly it was but she was fucking amazing. The thought of interrupting her almost made me feel like shit because I could tell how deep she was into her routine. But the asshole in me did it anyway.
I'd like to believe that the words of encouragement I gave her yesterday made somewhat of a difference. I saw a different glow in her eyes after that conversation. Hopefully, it had something to do with our heart-to-heart. Considering I told her about being adopted. God, I didn't remember that until now. I wasn't planning on talking about it but she asked me to tell her what my paper was about.
I may have stupidly figured she already knew which is why I didn't make a big deal about telling her. My aunt likes talking about me like I'm her own since she never had any kids of her own. I guess I just thought she would have mentioned it somehow but I was wrong.
Being adopted isn't something I tend to hide from people but I see the way people get awkward about it. The comments that come after someone finds out I'm adopted are also not something I'm typically fond of.
"Your parents got lucky!"
"I bet your parents regret giving you up now, eh?"
"Your parents sure know how to pick out of a patch."
Just like always, my success and fame are the basis of my life. It's not like my parents fucking knew I was going to the NHL. I was just born when they took me in. A newborn. People's stupid comments make me feel worthless even though I know I'm not. I may have been given up, but I was also given an amazing life because of it.
My life shouldn't revolve around the fact that I'm adopted. It's why I decided to let it go. If I take that extra step to find out who my birth parents are, my life will always tie back to being adopted. To the life I could have had if it wasn't for both my birth parents and my parents coming to a decision.
I'm fine with where I'm at.
I'm fine with not knowing.
"Awfully quiet this morning, Dempsey." Nola's voice drifts me out of my thoughts. I turn over and her blue eyes flit from her phone screen to mine. Besides the one time I stalked her Instagram, I've never really looked at the girl.
Her eyes are a dark shade of blue that sit under light brown thick brows. She has a thin button nose and lips that while thin, have a small plump to them. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a braided ponytail which sculpts her jaw. She's fucking insane to look at.
Shaking my head, I look away from the girl before I get caught up. "I'm just tired. I don't get too many days off," I lie. My minds racing too much and it was only eight in the morning. When the fuck is it not though? "How's hockey going?" Nola asks. I only turn to look at her to see if she's serious. There's no doubt in my mind that she actually cares. She hates hockey.
She raises her brows, awaiting an answer to her question. "It's really good. We've won seventeen in a row which is unheard of from us," I boast. Proud is an understatement. Nola's eyes widen and she tilts her head slightly. "Seventeen? What crack are you guys smoking before your games?" she asks. I laugh, shaking my head. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."
I put both hands behind my head and lean back on the bench behind me, my legs extended out in front of me. "Congratulations though, that's huge. I think?" Nola says, sounding unsure. I nod, "It is huge. A lot of teams are trying to go all out against us to break our streak. So far, they've all failed." Nola holds her hands out, palms up.
"Can I see your hands?" she asks. I raise a brow, confused. She turns her hands over to me. "My hands have a lot of calluses because of skating. Do yours?" she clarifies. I show her my hands which have calluses as well. "We wear gloves so no. Most of mine come from weights," I tell her. She nods. "That too, but I'm on the ice more than I'm at the gym."
With all the restraint I have, I don't check her out. I've done it before but I don't think she's ever noticed. If I did it now, she definitely would. "How's figure skating?" I return the question and change the subject. "It's going better than it was these past couple of months. I have a competition a little after my birthday next month, so I'm just working on polishing up my routine at this point," Nola explains.
"Nice. When's your birthday?" I ask. "January 21st." She smiles. I rack my brain on what her astrological sign could be. "Do Leo and Aquarius's get along well? Maybe that's why we don't like each other, Scott?" Never in my life would I believe in some stupid shit like star sign compatibility but I like fucking with her. Nola chuckles, "We do like each other. Remember?" Her eyes soften a fraction.
Do we?
"Hm, I think you'd smack yourself along the head if you heard yourself saying that a couple of weeks ago," I tease. "Probably. I guess I'm getting used to you." She shrugs her shoulders. "Wow, already? It's been a day," I quip. Nola smiles small, looking from me to the fingers on her lap that she starts playing with. "Yesterday, the things you said to me, they just meant a lot. I've never..." Nola shakes her head, looking back at me. "No one's ever said anything like that to me."
I search her expression for any inch of playfulness but come up empty. "Your parents-" I start but she cuts me off quickly. "They don't know. It's not something I typically share with people. You know?" Nola's cheeks flush a light pink. Why she's embarrassed is beyond me. Even though she didn't give me a reason as to why she's never told her parents she wants to be an Olympian, her last sentence made it clear.
The look on her face, when she told me she wanted to be an Olympian yesterday, said it all. Having big dreams like that can be scary to admit out loud, especially to others who may not know just how badly you want it. As kids, we grow up saying we want to be famous, play in the NHL, and do things that sound almost impossible. For most, it is what it is. A childhood dream.
But there are instances when it's not just a dream. If you believe in it enough, a dream becomes a possibility, and then if you're lucky; it becomes reality. Anyone has it in them, especially Nola. I can feel it radiating off her.
"You shared it with me," I tease, smirking. She gives me a look, her big blue eyes narrowed. "Don't feel too special. I told you because you're an athlete who gets it. My parents were athletes in college but they never wanted to take it further than that," she explains. "Wasn't your uncle in the NFL?" I remember meeting him at Nola's house.
Nola nods. "Yeah, two of my uncles, but," she shakes her head, "it's different. I'm just not open about it because if it doesn't happen, I'll disappoint more people than just myself." My brows raise slightly. I never thought about it that way. "Yeah, that makes sense. Even so, you shouldn't be embarrassed about it. I hope you're doing something about it," I assure her.
"I'm going to talk to my coach Laurel about it. She's worked with Olympians before. I'm serious about this, Miles. It's going to take work but I'm going to try and make it happen." Her dark eyes lighten with passion the more she speaks. "Even if it takes me years. I don't think I can die happy without trying." Atta girl. "That's what I'm talking about. You got this. I believe in you, girl."
She smiles again and I don't think I've ever seen her smile this much. At least not in front of me. I take it in like a fresh breath of air. Inspiring people to follow their dreams has always been a goal of mine. Sometimes all someone needs is that push. I think in my five years of being in the NHL, I've helped people take that step simply by just telling them they should.
As many times as I've done it, it never makes me feel any less proud.
"We should put our skates on soon." Nola turns her body slightly to grab her duffel bag from behind her. I nod, searching for mine under the bleachers. We both put on our skates and hit the ice for a quick warm-up. The two of us won't be putting in work on the ice today but we do demonstrate to kids occasionally.
"Hey, Miles?" Nola's voice comes when I finish my final stretch. "What's up?" I reply. She tightens her ponytail, resting her hands on her hips. "Did you meet a student named Ryle yesterday? I was wondering if you could help him out a bit today. I spent the last thirty minutes of class helping him out and he mentioned something about hockey," she tells me.
I raise my brows slightly. "I didn't. Point him out to me and I got him, thanks," I say. She smiles, giving me a firm nod. "Ready to teach, assistant?" I tease. Nola narrows her eyes at me, skating past me as she hops out of the rink. "As ready as I can be, coach." My eyes widen, somewhat amused at her reply. "Let's do the damn thing then."
Nola and I greet parents and invite kids back into our rink. While I focused on the parents, Nola took care of the kids making sure they were ready for day two. Recognizing faces, I could see improvement from yesterday already. I talked to a couple of parents for a little longer before finally getting on the ice with the kiddos. When Nola sees me, we skate toward each other, meeting in the middle of the ice.
"Right side of the rink, blue pullover, and black skates," Nola whispers to me, not drawing too much attention to ourselves. "Got it, see you in a bit. Let me know if you need anything," I tell her. She nods, "Likewise." We split back up and I skate toward a little blonde boy skating by himself in the corner. "Hey, Ryle? Was it?" I ask as I reach him.
He tips forward slightly but I grab onto his shoulder before he can fall on his face. The little boy looks up at me, his face flushing a light pink color. He nods hesitantly. "You're Miles Dempsey." His words come out like a statement rather than a question. "Yeah. Nice to meet you, man," I reply, hunching down to get to his size a bit more. "What're we working on today?" I ask.
"Uhmmm," he hums, looking around. "I'm still working on keeping my balance when I skate. I swear I'm almost there," he tells me. I nod, standing upright again. "You take the tips Nola gave you into account?" I ask. He nods his head, staying up on his own. "Good. Where are you struggling?" Ryle plays with his fingers as he looks up at me. "Just keeping up after a while. I always trip on my feet. Mom says I have two left feet."
I laugh. "My mom used to tell me that all the time too. Let me give you a few of my tips and then you can use those to help yourself out, yeah?" Ryle nods. I try to give him the easiest tips I used when learning to skate. When we finish that, we skate around for a bit and I see his confidence grow little by little. Deciding not to spend all my time with one student, I skate around and help out students I see struggling.
The three hours whizz by quicker than I realize as parents start filing inside for their kids. Slowly, the rink starts emptying. Kids say their goodbyes to us as well as parents who thank both Nola and me.
"Hi, excuse me." A small familiar voice comes from behind me. I turn around seeing Ryle. "Hey, how was the rest of your lesson, kid?" I ask, bending down to reach his height again. "Really good. I just wanted to thank you for helping me out." He pauses for a bit. "And also say I'm a really big fan, sorry if I was acting like a weirdo." I chuckle slightly, shaking my head. "Thank you. That means a lot to me and anytime, maybe I'll see you around, kid. Don't forget about me when you make it."
A crooked smile spreads across his face. "I for sure won't! Though you might forget about me." His face flushes a deep shade of pink again. "Hmm, I don't think so. Watch, once we run into each other again, I'll remember you. You'll see." Standing up, I hold up a finger at him and walk towards my duffel bag to grab something from inside of it. I pull out a towel I use every practice that has the LA Kings logo on it.
I walk back to Ryle and hand him the black, clean towel. "Here, keep this. You'll have something to remember me by. That's my favorite towel I'm giving ya, so I'll always remember who I gave it to." His brown eyes light up. "Thanks, Miles! I'll never lose this I swear!" I chuckle, ruffling his blonde hair a bit. "It was nice meeting you, kid," I say. He nods, "You too! Thank you so much again."
I shake my head. "Don't worry about it." Ryle says a quick goodbye to me before running into a blonde woman's arms, who I assume is his mom, looking more excited than I've seen him all weekend. Smiling, I stand up straight. "That was cute," a voice says from behind me. I turn and Nola stands behind me with a smile on her face, tone arms crossed over her chest.
Shrugging, I close some distance between us. "You know, I do it for the kids." She rolls her eyes but smiles. "He was a nice kid," she says. I nod, agreeing. "Cool guy for sure. You have a good day? I know we were teaching more separately today so I'm just checking in," I ask. "Oh yeah. I saw a huge improvement from yesterday. Kids left happier and more confident. This clinic was a really good idea," Nola says. "For sure. I'd do it with you again," I shrug.
Nola tilts her head a bit, failing to keep a smile off her face. "Did you just openly admit that you'd want to spend more time with me?" A laugh rumbles out of me. "I did not. You always find to twist my words," I retort. She chuckles, "Uh-Ah. You said I'd do it with you again." She explains, still failing at proving her point.
"Yeah. I never said I want to spend time with you, Scott. All I insinuated was that you're a good teacher, so I'd do it again with you. I'd do it with someone else too." I shrug, knowing that's a lie. "Oh, okay. Sure thing, big shot," she replies, laughing. I smirk, "Out of all the things you've called me, I think I like that one the most." She throws her head back in laughter. "You're so full of yourself!"
Before I can reply, I feel a hand touch my back. "Hello." Allie looks at me to the blonde in front of us. The sound of Nola's laugh dies slowly, disappointing me. "Who's this?" Allie asks. God, why did she have to come inside? "Oh hi, I'm Nola." Nola reaches her hand out for Allie who stares at it for a little before grabbing it and shaking it. "Allie," she replies tightly. When she lets go, Allie wraps her arm around mine before I try to inch away from her.
"Wait, you know JT right? I remember you and J mentioning a Nola, Miles," Allie says. God, why is she exposing me like that? I look toward Nola who seems more uncomfortable than amused. Here I thought she'd get cocky about me mentioning her. "Uhm, no not really. My friend knows him," Nola replies. Allie hums, eyeing her up and down. "Why are you here?" Allie questions. I hold back on sounding like a dick. "She helped me lead the class. Nola's friends with my aunt."
"Oh. Well come on then, we have brunch reservations with Kait and Tate," Allie says. Before I can reply, she stands on her tiptoes and places a kiss on my cheek, walking back out right after. I do my best to not show any emotion on my face, sighing instead. The air between Nola and me gets thick enough to get cut with a knife. "I'll go ahead and lock up. Don't want to be late for brunch," she says with a soft smile.
She's not my girlfriend, I wanna say. But there's no point. It's not like she cares and there's no reason to mention that fact anyway. "You sure?" I ask. Nola nods, "The skates were put away as kids were leaving as well as other equipment. I'm just going to use the restroom and change for something before I go." I grab the keys to the rink from my pocket and hand them over to her.
"I'll see you around, Scott," I say, grabbing my duffel bag from the ground. "Oh and also, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year," I add. Her brows raise slightly, dark eyes widening. "God, I have lost track of time, haven't I? Merry Christmas to you too, see you next year. Or not." She winks as she starts walking out of the building. "I'm sure you will!" I shout after her.
"We'll see!"