The arena is louder than I expected. I knew competitions drew crowds, but after months of training in quiet rinks and frozen ponds, the noise hits me like a wave. People are everywhere, parents, coaches, judges, little kids with posters, other skaters stretching in the hallways. And somewhere in the stands… Evan. I try not to look for him. I fail. He’s easy to spot, tall, broad‑shouldered, wearing a Wolves hoodie and sitting with my parents, his parents, Mason, and Gabe. They’re all talking like they’ve known each other forever. My stomach flips.
Daniels notices. “Eyes on me, Merritt.”
I snap my gaze back to him. “Sorry.”
He gives me a small smile. “You’re fine. Nerves mean you care.”
Nerves also mean I might throw up, but I don’t say that. The last few weeks have been brutal, early mo
