Nola Scott

As soon as Ember left my room last night, I did my nighttime routine and knocked out. It had been a long day and I was ready for it to be over. My morning started off great. The first hour of practice was easy. I was gliding through the ice, my jumps were on point, and my choreography seemed clear. But the hours after that... I have no idea what had been happening.

I couldn't seem to do anything right and my frustration was building quickly. Coach Laurel tells me to try my jumps again separately or in their sequence. I haven't landed a jump since the first hour of practice. As I skate over to the edge of the rink, I notice a familiar body making their way to the middle of the stands.

Miles. He's here.

My heart begins to race even more than before. When I invited him to my practice earlier this week, I didn't think I would be doing shitty. Him being here just pushes me to do better. He spots me when he sits, sending a closed-lipped smile my way. I return it before looking away and taking a deep breath. You can do this, Nola. Don't embarrass yourself now.

I take a step out into the ice and start moving, preparing for my quad flip. When it comes, I use all the power I have inside of me to lift myself into the air. Coming down, I lose my balance falling on my butt. Ugh. "That's okay, we're still working on that one," Coach Laurel tells me. I know, but I've hit it before. Making sure not to spend too much time on the ice, I stand and reposition myself on the ice.

Deciding not to look up and embarrass myself, I start to do the choreography that leads up to one of my jump sequences. My music isn't playing through the speakers at the moment so I mumble it in my head. Gaining momentum, I jump up to do a triple flip into a triple toe loop. After the second jump, I'm back on the floor. Groaning, I slap the ice before getting back up.

Coach Laurel stays quiet, letting me work through my emotions on my own. She knows how I can get when I start to get frustrated. "Let's do your double axel," she speaks. One of the easiest jumps in my routine. Nodding, I step into the ice, doing some quick skating before doing as I'm told. Surprisingly, I land it. A sense of relief flushes over me. I don't know what would have happened if I didn't land this one.

"Yeah!!" I look up at the stands to see Miles cheering and clapping even though I landed the most basic jump. My lips lift a fraction as I get back to it. No more doubles, Nola. Taking a deep breath, I set up again, trying my triple lutz. Just like my triple attempts before, I completely blow it, falling down.

What is happening?

Yesterday, practice didn't go too well and I wasn't hitting my jumps but today?! This is even worse than yesterday. I've done the triple lutz for over a year now. I have the jump down. So why am I not hitting it? My chest falls and rises quicker than before as I stand again. I try my best not to look at anyone for too long. Focus. Focus.

For the next ten minutes, I stick to spins and choreography as I prepare myself for jumps again. Even though I haven't attempted a jump, my anxiety prickles at my skin. I should've known I wasn't good enough to do this. In two months time, I'm going to be competing against the best of the best and I can't even stick a fucking triple lutz. What's wrong with me?

"Nola, you okay?" Coach Laurel asks. I keep my hands on my hips, trying to slow my breathing that's slowly getting uneven. No panic attacks today, Nola. It's been so long without one, calm down. I mumble something like 'yes' to her but my throat seemed to close up after that. Skate. Just skate and it'll go away, it always does.

My body moves on the ice without trying. This isn't foreign to me, I've been doing it my whole life. I could close my eyes and do this next jump. It was one of the first triples I learned. Taking an uneven deep breath I do a triple salchow. Once my body hits the ice for the hundredth time, my insides start to react. I don't get back up, my breathing is too uneven to control, and my heart beats so quickly that I feel like I'm dying.

It feels like a million years but eventually, Miles is squatting in front of me with a worried look on his face. "Nola, hey, you're okay. Breathe." His voice sounds far away and I feel like I can't reach it. "Fuck," he mumbles, pulling his hoodie off his body. He lifts me a fraction, sticking the hoodie under where I'm sitting on the ice, and places me down again. "Nola, hey," he says again. Nola. He never calls me Nola.

I mumble something incoherent, noticing Coach Laurel behind Miles. My heart beats so fast. I haven't told my parents I love them. My brothers and sister. It's just a panic attack. Calm down. Still, my breathing is so uneven, I'm gasping for air to fill my lungs again. "Nola! Look. Right at me, yeah? Come on." Miles grabs my chin between his fingers, forcing my head toward him.

The look on his face tells me he's worried. I don't want him to worry about me. "You're fine, just breathe. Please. You're okay, Scott." Scott. There it is. Miles pushes the baby hairs that fall from my ponytail out of my face. I look into his gray eyes and for a second, I don't see worry. I see something familiar, something that makes me trust him. God, what is it about him that feels so familiar? So... right.

My breathing slows and so does my heart. "Miles," I manage to say. He nods, continuing to move the hair that sticks to my forehead away from my face. "Yeah, I'm right here. You okay now?" He studies my face, trying to find any sort of indication that I'm not okay. I nod, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat. "Yeah?" he asks. "Mhm," I barely mumble. My throat suddenly feels dry like I haven't drank water in weeks.

Coach Laurel steps in next to Miles. "Honey, take the rest of the day off," she says in a softer-than-usual voice. I start to shake my head, no. Didn't she see how much I was failing? I can't afford to take the day off. "No, Scott. That's a good idea," Miles adds, bringing my attention back to him. I give him a traitorous look and he just smiles. "I'll see you, Monday," coach Laurel says.

Miles says bye to her as I can't say much still. It hurts to speak. As if he's read my mind, Miles holds up a finger and rushes off the ice. He comes back with a cold water bottle from the vending machine, opens it, and hands it to me. I take it from him and take large gulps. The cold liquid feels like heaven against my dry throat. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I give it back to him and he closes it. "Thanks," I whisper.

He sets it down and stands up from his squatting position. I watch him as he holds out his hands for me. Without question, I grab onto them and he pulls me up easily. His hoodie saved my butt from getting wet as he picks it up and it's a bit wet. "Sorry about your hoodie," I say and he shakes my head. We both walk toward where I have my stuff set.

When we sit down, the embarrassment starts to wash over me. Not only did he see me completely miss all my jumps but he also saw me have a panic attack. My cheeks start to get hot from embarrassment and I distract myself by putting my things away. Tears also burn in my eyes as I think about how much of a failure I am. There's no way I'm even going to come close to any of the girls at Worlds.

I'm lucky enough to have gotten this far but Worlds is as far as I'll go. There isn't hope for me.

"You did great today," Miles suddenly says. His unbelievable statement catches my attention, causing me to stop what I'm doing. "I know you don't know much about figure skating but I'm sure you're smart enough to realize that falling on my ass multiple times isn't great," I retort. He smiles a bit. "You still did great," he replies. "Jeez, thanks. I really feel the pity," I joke. He catches my arm to stop me from putting away my skates.

"It's not pity. It's respect. Even though today wasn't your best day, you kept going. Kept trying. That's all that counts. This practice will be behind you next Monday," he says. "Because having a panic attack is me trying, sure," I mumble, feeling like a complete shit again. There's no way I just had a panic attack. I was doing so good at keeping those at bay.

Miles stares at me for a long, quiet second before releasing a breath. "You scared me there, Scott," he admits. Really? "I don't like seeing you upset." His gray eyes are full of sympathy. It would irk me if I didn't think he cared. But I think he actually does. "I'm fine now," I lie. I'm never fine after panic attacks. My anxiety sticks around for another couple of hours after them.

"Don't lie to me," he says with a weak chuckle. "I'll be okay," I add. His eyes fill with something else I don't understand yet. "Let's go get lunch?" he asks. I look down at my watch. It's only 11:32. Practice was supposed to pause at 12 until Coach Laurel told me to take the day off. It's not like I'm going to stay and practice here without her. "Sure," I agree, packing up the rest of my things before we leave.

***
Miles Dempsey

I make sure Nola is okay to drive before telling her to leave her car at home. We take the BMW and I take her to SunCafe. We order to go and she picks up our food, bringing it back to the car. There are too many people out on a Friday and I'm not trying to be seen.

Worry still fills me as I watch her eat her Caesar salad in my passenger seat. Panic attacks aren't foreign to me. I've had them multiple times. Helping someone else through a panic attack? It had me feeling like I was about to get one myself. Especially since it was Nola. Seeing her upset like that terrified me. I don't ever want to see that again.

She is probably tired of my constant 'are you okays' now but I keep asking them. And she keeps lying. We might not be the same person but no one is ever fine right after a panic attack. She also hasn't been acting herself, another giveaway that she's lying to me.

I finish eating a bit before her and when she's done, I start my questioning back up. "You sure you're okay?" I ask. She sighs, "Miles." It's obvious she's tired of the question. "Look, I'm just asking because I've had panic attacks before and I know I'm not okay for... a while after them," I decide to admit. Fuck it. If it'll get her to stop lying to me, I'll tell her anything. She looks at me then, big blue eyes widened a bit.

"You have?" she asks, her voice coming out softer again. I give her a firm nod for confirmation. Just like I knew it would, her façade slips. All she needs to do is trust you and she'll tell you things, I've realized. "But I'll be okay, I swear.." she says, her voice cracking slightly. My heart damn near shatters. Before, I enjoyed getting her hot but now? Seeing the girl upset is the worst thing I've ever seen.

"Nola..." I'm interrupted by my phone ringing on the dashboard. Jason Tayler pops up on the screen and I press answer. "Hey, man, you on your way back? We have to be at the airport in twenty. Coach is gonna have his gonch in a twist if we're late," JT's voice comes through the speakers of my car. Fuck. I look at the time. It's already 1:30. The traffic today made it impossible to get to the SunCafe.

"Yeah. I'll be there soon," I tell him. "Okay, cool. Text me when you are here," he replies and then we hang up. Nola sniffles, she's not looking toward me. "You can drop me off already. Don't want to piss off your coach," she says. I feel like flames are burning at my skin. She's upset. It doesn't sit right with me leaving her here when she's still not okay. "I can't leave you.."

Nola turns her head at my words. She sighs. "You have to go, Miles. I totally forgot you had a game tomorrow. You should have told me you had a flight today, I wouldn't have asked you to come," she speaks, her words hurting me a bit. I could have had a game today and I still would have made it out to see her practice. Good or bad practice. I don't care.

The words shoot out of my mouth before I can stop them but I can't leave her here alone. "Come with me. To my game in San Jose." She looks at me confused. I'm fucking confused. I just don't want to leave her. "Anderson, he has a private jet. Tate's girl is on there, I'll ask him if there's room for another person," I say, already pulling out my phone.

"Miles." Nola grabs my arm, stopping me. "That's too much trouble. I don't have anything ready and you're already going to be late. It's fine," she says. My chest aches. Her pretty blue eyes are glossy from tears and knowing that when I drop her home, she'll still be upset, won't sit right with me. "I'll get you anything you need in San Jose. Anderson won't even mind, he loves me," I continue to spew anything to convince her.

She looks at me like she's out of it. Like she's been running a marathon and no longer has energy. If she didn't look like this, I wouldn't be fighting so hard to get her to come with me. "Please. For my sake more than yours. I can't leave you here, not right now," I plead, once more. Nola looks over at the clock and sighs. "Okay." I release a breath of relief. "Only if your teammate can get me on his private. Otherwise... no."

I can't remember the last time Drew said no to me. I'm like his child.

Since I don't want to be late, I pull out of SunCafe at the same time I'm calling Cap. The line rings only twice before his dad voice comes through. "Hey, kid! What's going on? Everything alright?" Drew calls me kid the same way I call JT that. It passes down every time you host a rookie at your place. "Top tier, Cap. Hey, I have a quick last-minute question though."

Getting onto the highway, I take advantage and go ten over the speed limit. My house is only ten minutes out but we have to be at the airport asap which is almost twenty minutes away. "Shoot," Drew says. "You think I can get my girl- fuck! No, I mean, not my girl she's uh- a friend of mine." I'm fucking stupid. What the hell am I even saying? I blame it on being distracted.

I stupidly look over at Nola whose face is red. I can't tell if it's from being upset or what I just said. "A friend of mine," I repeat, "on that jet of yours? I know it's last minute but time hasn't been in my favor today. And obviously, if there's space, I know you've got the kiddos and wife filling up space." My panic starts to settle. "Oh definitely, Demps! I've got a bit more room. Anyone's welcome!" Thank God for Cap.

"Oh, thanks, Cap! I owe you. I'm on my way to pick up the kid right now and I'll be on my way, please hold that jet," I beg. "No problem. Dahlia won't let it leave until your friend is on there," he promises. I thank him again before hanging up. "Got you a spot on the private, Scott. You're stuck with me," I say, turning over to look at her. She smiles a little and nods.

The rest of the car ride is quiet and I text JT, telling him to hop in the back. Our things are already packed in the back of my car. "Who's the special guest?" JT says as excitedly as he gets in, peeking over to the front seat. His face relaxes when he sees Nola smiling at him. "Oh, thank God! For a second I thought it was All-" I turn to glare at him and he stops himself.

My gaze flicks from him to Nola whose face turns red again. JT is so stupid sometimes. The two of them chat most of the ride to the airport while I focus on getting us there as quickly as possible without crashing. I'm a great driver but drivers in Los Angeles are idiots. Once we arrive, the three of us rush to where our team plane is as well as Drew's private jet. He's the only guy on our team that has one and it always takes off shortly after ours.

I hand JT my duffel bag and then bring Nola over to the jet she's about to get on. She's still dressed in her practice clothes from earlier. "You okay? I'll see you in less than two hours. If I could, I'd bring you on that other plane with me," I tell her. The only thing keeping me together right now is knowing I'll see her in a couple of hours rather than two days. "Yeah. You sure your captain didn't mind?" she asks again.

I assure her he didn't. "His wife, Dahlia is the nicest woman ever and his kids are awesome. You like kids right?" I ask as we walk up to the steps of the jet. She nods, still looking nervous. "Kait is also there. She'll keep you company, I texted her already. She knows you're coming," I assure her. Nola nods, looking around and past me.

The next thing I know, she's jumping up and wrapping her arms around my neck. I stand there in shock for a little. My body slouches since she's a lot shorter than me and pulling me down with her weight. "Thanks for not leaving me alone," she mumbles, her warm breath tickling my neck.

Carefully, I wrap my arms around her small frame, pulling her closer to me. She doesn't flinch or move back, only gripping tighter. The smell of vanilla fills my nose and I take it in as she's this close. I don't pull away until she's ready but a voice makes us pull apart. "I thought I heard your voice." Kaitlyn stands at the top of the jet looking at Nola and me. "Hey, Kait. Uh, this is Nola," I introduce her.

Kait stares at me for a long moment before switching her gaze over to the girl next to me. "Hey, Nola. I'm Kait! We should let him get going before coach shoves a foot up his ass," she teases with a smirk but she's not wrong. Nola smiles and turns to look at me. "I'll see you in a bit?" I nod and pat her lower back gently so that she'll climb up the stairs. She returns the nod and Kait moves to the side for her to climb on.

When Nola is out of sight, Kait raises her brows at me. Yeah, I'm not dumb. I know what she's thinking. "Not at all," I demand. "Tell Tate I love him. Want me to exchange the same message?" She juts her head in the direction of the private jet where Nola is. "You're a pain in the ass," I say through clenched teeth even though I'm not actually mad. She's just messing with me. "Bye Miles," she giggles, slipping back into the private jet.

Tate's got to get a hold of his girl.