I don’t turn around when I hear him behind me.
I know that sound. The careful shuffle of skates on rubber flooring. Slow. Hesitant. Like he’s trying not to make it worse but still can’t help himself.
“Cass,” George says softly.
Just one word. But it snaps something in me. My fingers grip the bench so hard my knuckles go white.
I don’t answer.
He walks closer, slow like he’s approaching a wild animal. I guess in this case, he kind of is.
“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” he tries again. “I just… I thought you deserved to know.”
I still don’t look up. My helmet lies on the floor by my foot. I stare at it like it holds all the answers. Like if I focus hard enough, the ache in my leg and my chest might vanish.
“You don’t know what I deserve,” I mutter.
George sighs. “I’m n
