Nola Scott

Ember and JT making up was one of the best possible outcomes. Now, I didn't have to come to games alone. Kaitlyn didn't come to every single game so I couldn't rely on her most times. This was my roommate's second hockey game and we had an absolute blast. Doing things with your best friend is always better than doing things alone.

The Kings beat Anaheim 6-3. Even though Miles has been off his rocker, his performance tonight was great. He had two goals and one assist to Tate. We waited for the boys after the game and then Miles drove us back to Ember and I's place. The four of hung out in the living room for a while before JT and Em sneakily found their way to her room. So now it was just Miles and I.

He's been more timid than usual this past week and I'm positive it's because of his encounter with that fan on Tuesday. We've talked every day since then and I've made sure to check on his emotions. He puts on a happy face for others but when it's just us, I see the real him.

"My mom said she wants to see you again. She says 'It's been a while'," Miles tells me. I smile at the mention of his mom. The last time I talked to her was when I first met her. I'm shocked she brought me up to Miles but glad. She's lovely. "I'll have to see her soon then," I say. He smiles small and nods his head. That last sentence hangs above us.

As much as I feel comfortable in our usual silence, this one is a lot more deafening. Seeing Miles upset isn't nice. I wish there was something I could say that would change the way he's feeling but he's just in his head. It's hard to get him out of there. Looking at him right now, all I want to do is lay my head on his lap and try to make him smile. Laugh. Forget.

I don't know. I just want to make him feel something.

He's helped me do all those things when I've been down these last couple of months. Miles has been there for me more than anyone else and now that it's time to return the favor, I can't figure out how. "Did you know Ember's getting a puppy?" I ask. He actually lifts his head to look at me. "She is?" he queries. I nod quickly and pull my phone out of my shorts.

Pressing on Ember and I's message thread, I show him the picture of the golden retriever mixed with a husky pup that her dad got for her. "He'll be here in a week," I say, smiling. "Cute dog," Miles replies but not one emotion crosses his features. Oh, God. That was stupid. How could I forget he's a cat person? A picture of a dog isn't going to make him happy.

I contemplate asking Aviana for a picture of her kitten, Mable.

My mind tries to come up with conversation ideas but falls flat. Usually, we can't stop talking when we're together but I know times are different. Maybe he wants to be alone. "Do you want to go home? I can give JT a ride back later," I tell him. Miles looks at me again, shaking his head. He clears his throat. "No. I don't want to be alone. I'm sorry I haven't been my usual self, I'm just thin-"

Quickly, I cut him off. He doesn't owe me an apology. "I get it. Don't worry about it." He nods and I chew on my bottom lip when he looks away. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm here to listen," I suggest. To my surprise, he nods, turning his body toward mine on the couch. It takes him a couple of minutes before he says anything. "I've been thinking and I think I am going to ask my mom and pops about them. But not until the seasons over. Whenever that may be."

Progress. That's a great sign.

"That sounds like a good idea. But if you change your mind and want to do it sooner or even later, that is completely okay too," I assure him. It's easy to change your mind about things and if he decides in a couple of weeks that he can't wait, then that'll be fine. Plus, the regular season doesn't end for another two months. Who knows how far the Kings will make it this season?

"Yeah. I'm just trying to convince myself that this is a good idea. I tend to get in my head a lot," he says with a sigh. "You got this. It can wait, okay? Just focus on finishing off the season strong and you'll get back to finding your birth parents afterward." I rub his shoulder a couple of times in comfort.

He looks away at something in front of him for a long minute. "What is that?" he says suddenly. I follow his eyes but don't see what he's talking about. "What?" I question. He lifts his hand and points to my leg, I realize. More specifically, the scar on my left leg. "Oh. Figure skating accident. I sliced my leg open with the blade of my skate when I was thirteen. Had to get ten stitches," I recall to him, tracing my index finger over the six-inch scar on my calf.

I look up at the scar on his eyebrow. He also got it in a skating accident when he was younger. "I'm surprised I've never noticed it," he says, staring at it still. I shrug. "I'm always in tights and jeans that's probably why," I tell him. He nods before touching my scar with his finger. Like always, my belly flutters at his touch.

"Does it hurt?" he asks quietly. "Not since it's healed," I admit. When my scar started to form, I hated it so much. I wished it would go away all the time. My doctor told me it probably wouldn't but I could use different creams to make it fade over time. I remember my skin getting so dry because of how much I applied different creams.

Over time, I stopped caring. My scar was a part of me. It was a reason my dad wanted me to stop skating. He didn't realize how dangerous it could be until then. I had to beg my parents to let me continue taking my classes and competing. It worked obviously and I haven't had another accident since then luckily.

"We match." He points to his scar and I smile. "We do."

Then once again, stillness overtakes us and as much as I love sitting in silence, I cannot take it for a second longer. "Okay, let's go." I stand up from the couch and hold my hand out. Miles looks at me, brows pulled together in confusion. "Come on, I'm taking you somewhere." Wagging my brows, I smile to seal my deal. He stands on his own but grabs my hand once he's up. "Where are we going?"

I grab my keys from the front table and look back at him. "It's a surprise." He looks at me like I'm deranged and honestly, I might be but I'm rolling with the plan I've created in my head. Hopefully, by the end of the night, I'll see a smile on his face.

The ride is quiet with only my music playing through the speakers. Miles is on his phone the whole time but I don't mind it for now. When we get to the destination, it's almost empty, just like I knew it would be. I turn off the engine. "Here we are!" Miles puts his phone down, finally, and looks up at the building in front of us. "Au revoir?" he says the name of the place, his French accent pretty decent.

I nod frantically and jump off the car before he can say anything else. He follows my lead shortly after, putting on a Yankees baseball cap. When the door opens up for us, a young girl greets us. "Bonjour. Welcome in." I return the greeting and when I look at Miles, I almost laugh. His face screams what the fuck.

There are only a couple of other people here tonight. The Eiffel Tower stands tall on the far side of the room. The Arc de Triomphe is on the other side, close to Louvre - one of my personal favorites. There's also a large chapel and different little stands where people can buy food. I stop Miles in the middle. "When I was younger, my parents always used to take me and my siblings to Paris when we were upset," I tell him.

Miles' eyes focus on me now, widening. "How rich is your family again?" he asks, making me laugh. "Well, we went to the real Paris occasionally. If my parents took us every time one of us was upset, I think they'd go broke. Especially with Kayce." I spread my arms over the place. "We came to this Paris when we couldn't go to the one thousands of miles away."

He looks around uneasily. "C'mon, it's fun. Let's go over here!" I drag Miles over to the Eiffel Tower first. One of my personal favorites. We participate in the little activities it has to offer and I think I actually see him smile. "One beignet please!" I ask a lady behind one of the counters. Before Miles is able to, I place two dollars into the tip jar. He narrows his eyes at me but I just smile.

When she hands us the beignet, I take it out of the baggie and give some to Miles. "Have you had one of these before?" He shakes his head. I've been watching what I'm eating but when it comes to cheering him up, I'll break my diet for a beignet. "My dad is from New Orleans and I used to beg him to take me to get a beignet every time we were visiting my grandparents."

He looks at the sugary bread in his hand. "It's all sugar, Scott. What can be so good about this?" I roll my eyes and raise the pastry to his mouth. "Eat." He raises a brow, "Yes ma'am." I take a bite out of my piece at the same time he does. He chews and chews and chews until he finally swallows. "That's actually pretty good," he says, taking another bite. My work here is done.

Well almost.

After we finish our beignets, I take him over to the Arc and we snap some pictures. If you take them at the right angles, it actually looks like you're there. Of course, I had to force him to take pictures. Supposedly he's not a picture type of guy but I've seen his Instagram. He modeled for freaking Rolex.

Finally, we get to Louvre and I force him to snap one more picture with me. He leans his head on mine and we both smile. "Beautiful!" I say, smiling at all the new photos in my camera roll. "Yeah," he breathes. I look over at him and he's looking down at me. "Did you know Louvre is my brother's favorite place to go in Paris? Moms too. They're art fanatics," I tell him.

It's been a while since we've gone to Paris and I'm starting to miss it. "Really? Kayce's into art?" Miles asks, sounding surprised. I nod, walking through the small hall of the fake Louvre. Real-fake paintings are hung closer together than they are at the actual museum. "I would've never guessed he was into art," Miles admits as he follows me. "My brother is a really interesting individual. No one really expects him to be the way he is," I say.

People tend to be surprised by some of my brother's interests. They hear that he's a baseball player and swimmer and immediately think jock. He's more than that.

He's amazing at school, probably the smartest person I know but I won't ever tell him that. He loves art, music, and books. I think he's read 35 this year so far. Traveling is also something he enjoys but can't really do since he's so young. His mind is also complicated. Only certain people understand him and his personality.

Dad for example. Uncle Ripley even more.

"You're telling me he could tell me what this painting is about?" He points to one of the paintings in front of us. I've seen it before at the Louvre and yes, Kayce could explain it to him easily. "He could. I can too actually." Miles raises a curious brow, crossing his arms across his chest. "You can?" I nod. "I listen when people I love tell me about the things they enjoy." It's the truth.

When he makes no move to tell me to explain it to him, I do anyway. Ship of Fools painted by Hieronymus Bosch. Not one of my brother's favorite but I've heard enough about it. After I finish telling Miles about the painting, he's smiling at me. "Damn, Scott. You really do pay attention." I'm surprised that he's surprised. As much as I love to talk, I'm also a great listener.

The two of us walk along the paintings as I name them off to him. I've been to Louvre and here enough to know them by memory. "Here let me get a picture of you next to the Mona Lisa," Miles says, pulling out his phone. A smile lifts my lips because he's asking me to take a picture. This whole time it's been the other way around. I walk over to the picture and grin. Miles does too as he snaps the picture. "Nice."

"Paris is beautiful this time of year around isn't it," I quip, grabbing onto his arm as we walk the path over to the chapel. "Sure is," Miles jokes back as we step into the church. I point at the ceiling for him to look. Stained-glass windows hang above and around, colorful and mesmerizing. "Wow," he says. His jaw clenches and unclenches, a more beautiful sight than the stained glass to me.

"Maybe I should add Paris to my list of places I'd like to travel to," he admits, glancing back down at me. "Be my tour guide?" he adds. I hate that my face flushes at his words but with him saying that and us touching, how could I not? "Sure." He winks and then he's the one leading me around multiple stands, acting like I'm the one who's never been here before.

A worker advises us that the place is going to close soon so Miles leads me to the one place we haven't been yet. The Photo Booth. "Here." He hands me a baguette as he grabs other props from the basket. I put in a five-dollar bill and choose a background for our pictures. I'm laughing my ass off when he turns around with a paper mustache on his upper lip. "Can't grow one yourself?"

He rolls his eyes. "Please. I can grow one." Dipping his hand into the basket, he pulls out a dark green beret and places it on top of my head. He smiles, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he stares at me. "Cute, Scott." Luckily, he turns before he can see my face flush again. I press start on the screen and a countdown from five starts.

We take the goofiest pictures, removing our props for the final two. For the first one, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and leans his head on top of mine. The two of us smile at the camera until after the snap. Neither of us comes up with an idea for the second one so I move in front of his chest and stick out my tongue. Miles wraps his arm around me again and flips off the camera.

"We're definitely printing those," I chuckle, hitting the print button on the screen. Miles exists the small space first and we wait for our pictures to be printed. He beats me to them when they finally print. "Who's keeping it?" he questions as we begin to walk out of Au revoir. "Uhm, me, duh." I snatch the photo strip from his hands.

The cold air hits my skin when the door opens. Was it this cold when we got here? I quickly walk to my car and I hear Miles chuckle behind me. As soon as my ass is on the seat, I'm closing the door and turning on the car. Miles gets in a couple of seconds later. "You're so dramatic." My mouth gapes open as I turn on my seat warmers and the hot air.

"It's cold as fuck out there. Sorry, we're not all from cold Canada," I retort, rubbing my hands against my bare things to get them warm. I should have changed into some sweats before I left the apartment. "You're assuming just because I'm from Canada that I'm used to the cold? Vancouver gets really warm. It's not always freezing, Scott. We get sun too."

Duh. I knew that.

"Ou, wanna get ice cream?" The great idea comes to me all of a sudden. Miles laughs at that. "You're complaining that it's cold and you want ice cream?" he asks, completely bamboozled. "You can never go wrong with some vanilla ice cream, Miles," I declare, pulling out of the parking lot. I think there's a creamery nearby. "You surprise me every day," he says. When I look at him, there's still a small smile on his face.

Make Miles smile: Check!

"We can go get ice cream."
I have never heard six sweeter words in my life.