But also, I guess I was maintaining my balancing act with them. That attempt to reintroduce me to boxing had skirted dangerously close to breaking a pact I thought we’d all silently agreed on: to avoid the past, my parents, and anything to do with them. I needed to reestablish our boundaries, and avoiding sharing of any kind seemed like the best option right now.

Once I’d grabbed my equipment and thrown it all into an old duffel bag, I waited outside for Fee. The rink was far by bus, and I’d begged them for a ride to the tryouts. They’d agreed, but I needed to help them and Caihong with some errands beforehand. I suspected it was their way of distracting me from my nerves too.

The “errands” consisted of helping paint Fee’s mother’s shed. Which was less of a shed and more of a small house with gardening stuff in it. And by gardening stuff, I mean a sit-down lawn mower and enough equipment to supply a small landscaping business. Which was what Fee’s mum ran.

I didn’t know any of this until Fee told me while handing me a can of paint and a paint roller.

The three of us painted for a while, listening to Fee sing along to their ridiculous eighties playlist as we did. I hadn’t spent a ton of time with Fee and Cai together, and I snuck glances at them now, as they traded kisses between brushstrokes and such. Even though I had no interest in being in a serious relationship, I liked seeing the two of them together. They made everything look so natural and simple. No overdone antics like Priam and Vicki, no fighting—just a chill vibe and easy laughter.

“Hey, how’re you feeling about the tryouts, Killa?” Fee asked.

I stooped to roll paint over my brush. “Fine, I guess. I mean, besides wanting to throw up.”

Fee laughed and translated for Cai. “You’ll be great, Daya,” Fee repeated for Cai as she signed her response. “Fee said you’re a good skater.”

I gave Fee a questioning look.

They shrugged. “Like I said, you’re more than all those rippling muscles, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I scoffed, laying on a coat of paint.

“Marvelous!” A small brown woman appeared on the pathway from the house. Some—not all—of her straight black hair toppled around her head in a loose bun, while the rest flung about her face. She signed Hello to Cai and then said, “This looks professional!”

“Hey, Ma—this is Daya. Daya, this hooligan is my mum, Dotty.”